Page 45 of Puck Lust

He hesitates for a second as the other guys make their way across the ice. “They can never break you, Jack,” he finally says.

He’s right. They can’t.

I stare after him as he skates away.

But you can.

***

Everyone is in a great mood during the quick trip to St. Paul, Minnesota, where we’re playing our next game tomorrow night. They all walked on eggshells before the Iron Hawks game, not knowing what to expect after that shit show at the hotel.

But I locked in and focused on the game.

Well, I was almost completely locked in after Carter cornered me.

And even though his words still linger in my mind, I’ve made the decision to bury them. I did it once. I can do it again.

Compartmentalizing my feelings is the only way for me to survive.

I need to stick him back in his box and throw away the key; otherwise, I’ll never be free.

My muscles are sore and aching by the time we get to the next hotel. I just want to take a long, hot shower and hit the sack.

“Jack, come meet us in the lobby bar once you drop your stuff off,” Masterson says once we get our keycards. “You deserve a drink. Or ten. I’m buying.”

Carter stands next to him but doesn’t say anything.

And I force myself to ignore the look of longing in his penetrating eyes.

“I think I’m gonna pass. But thanks.” I rub the back of my neck and grin. “Maybe after tomorrow night’s game, after we kick some Panther ass.”

Masterson chuckles. “You’ve got it, buddy. I’m gonna hold you to it.”

I hoist my bag over my shoulder and head for the elevator while the rest of the guys hang back in the lobby.

The elevator dings and I step inside when I hear footsteps pound on the floor behind me. I turn to see Carter slip into the elevator just before the doors slide closed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to chill out with the guys?” he asks. “I know it’s beenkind ofa rough day.”

A dry laugh escapes my lips. “That’skind ofan understatement,” I mumble.

“What was that?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

The elevator dings and the doors open.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he says in a quiet voice.

“Look, I’d be a buzzkill down there. I just want to be alone, okay? Go down there and relax. You deserve it.”

Without waiting for him to respond, I force a smile and turn down the hall in the direction of our room because I can’t bear to look at his deflated expression.

I mean, what did he really think he was going toaccomplish by coming after me? That a few drinks will make everything better? That it’ll make me forget my past and the demons chasing me? That it’ll make me forget what he almost told me before the game before I made him stop? That the booze will make it easier for me to accept that he’ll never fall in love with me?

I think that’s probably what stings the most, if I’m being honest.

Falling for a fucking straight guy.

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