Page 24 of Pucking Grey

Matt says, “Come on, brother, let’s fucking get this over with.” He sits next to Maddie. She tenses by how close he is. He throws an arm around her shoulder as I take the chair across from them.

Madison doesn’t seem bothered by thebrothercomment. I don’t think she knows about our past.

“Actually,” she whispers. “I’m here to talk to Grey.”

“What?” Matt snaps. His eyes dart to me.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “I haven’t talked to him since the fight, and I really need to talk to him.” Her blue eyes stare into mine. Her body language shifts into guilt, but it’s clear it’s not for me. I can’t stand the tension in the room right now.

“Well, go ahead and tell him,” Matt says, pointing at me. “Tell him about last night.”

She hesitates, and I get it. Matt is a force sometimes, compelling even. A true people person, he knows how to make them bend at his will. What is it called? Oh, charisma. Some would say manipulator.

“Alone,” she says, glancing at me. If she thinks I’m going to have her back right now, she’s dead wrong. Hockey will always come first. I don’t move a muscle, so she turns to Matt. “Please give us a second.”

He stands up, annoyed. He walks out of the building. When the door shuts behind him, it echoes in here.

“So,” she begins as the cold air filters through this room.

“You guys got back together,” I nod.

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Really? Because he seems to think so.”

“I let him apologize to me,” she confesses. “But that doesn’t mean –”

“I don’t think he knows that. So, it’s not me you need to talk to. It’s him.”

“But I –”

I cut her off. “I don’t care what you do, Madison.”

“I was hoping we could continue this so that he stays away.”

I laugh. “Oh, you still want to use me?”

She shrugs. “Just pretend a little while longer.”

“And what if I don’t want to?”

The thought of Matt returning to this room with Madison and I as a couple makes me warm on the inside. If he doesn’t win, I do, and how fucking ironic is that. I can’t let her think it’s this easy though, so I lean forward with my finger pressed against my lips.

“But I want to,” she argues.

“Then tell him the truth,” I say.

She gasps. “What?”

“Tell him what you’re telling me. That you want nothing to do with him.”

She’s frozen, like what I’m saying was never considered.

I tell her, “I don’t play games, Madison. Now go tell him how you feel.”

She’s deep in thought for a moment and then she stands. “You’re impossible.”

I laugh. “Yeah, it’s me with the issues.”

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