Page 1 of One Pucking Life

CHAPTER

ONE

MAXWELL

Relationships suck. I have zero desire to ever be in one. Okay—maybe when I’m past my prime and ready to settle down into that boring phase of life. Maybe. But now? What’s the point? I’m young, attractive, rich, talented… and not even a little bit cocky. I’m one of the stars of last year’s Stanley Cup–winning NHL team, the Cranes. I can have any girl I want—no strings, no complications. I’m a free agent, living life on my terms. And I love it.

My eyes dart to my best friend Jaden, sitting on the couch, scowling at his phone like he can will a reply that’s never coming. Poor guy. Just a month ago, he was everything I am—young, free, untouchable. Now? He’s a mess. He went and gave his heart to a girl. And not just any girl—a movie star who doesn’t want the same things he does.

I feel bad for him. Not just because he’s been playing like crap since she left but because he’s like a brother to me. I want him to be happy. I was rooting for him and his celebrity crush, even if I always figured it would end like this.

Jaden used to be the life of the party. Now he’s sitting there, dejected, and it’s brutal to watch. Honestly, it’s the perfect reminder of why my no-relationships rule is the smartest move I’ve ever made. We’re too young to be tied down.

“We’re having a party,” I announce, clapping my hands together.

Startled, Jaden looks up from his phone. “What?”

“Let’s have the guys over tonight. We haven’t hosted in a while.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know…”

“Nope. It’s happening.” I cut him off before he can argue. “We can’t really do poker night—that’s Eddy’s thing. But it doesn’t have to be complicated. Just a regular hangout. Although…” I pause, thinking. “A video game competition would be sweet. No.” I wave my hands like I’m erasing the idea from thin air. “Forget themes. We’ll just see where the night takes us.”

“I don’t really feel like hosting,” Jaden says flatly.

“Too bad. We need to get you out of this funk. It’s decided.”

He jerks up from the sofa and drags a hand through his hair. Then he holds up his phone like it’s proof of something. “How hard is it to send a simple text back? When she left, she said she was on board. She said?—”

“Yes,” I finish for him, cutting in before he spirals. “She said she wanted to be with you. Etcetera, etcetera. I know, Jay. We’ve been over this. But just because a woman says something doesn’t mean she means it.”

“Then why say it?” His voice rises, frustration turning sharp.

I shrug, hands toward the ceiling. “I don’t know, man. And I’m sorry. Maybe she’ll respond. Maybe she won’t. But life doesn’t stop either way.”

“You’d understand if you’d ever been in love.”

“You’re right,” I say, unbothered. “And I’m grateful I can’t relate. I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I do know sittingaround feeling sorry for yourself isn’t the answer.” I grab my phone. “Get ready. I’m texting the guys, and then we’re heading out. We need supplies. There’s nothing to eat or drink in this house.”

Stepping outside, I breathe in the warm air, letting it fill my lungs. It’s early November in Michigan, but it feels like summer. A sunny, breezy, seventy-degree day—a rarity for this time of year. I take the top off my new Ford Bronco. I’m obsessed with this car. Navy blue—Cranes hockey colors—and the horse, or I guess bronco, emblem looks badass.

Jaden joins me outside, his voice not sounding remotely amused. “Top down?”

I extend my arms. “Of course! Are you feeling this sunshine? You need to cheer up, buttercup. If this weather doesn’t do it, I don’t know what will.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Have you always been this obnoxious?”

We hop into the Bronco.

I chuckle. “Uh, yeah… and normally, you’re more annoying. So I feel like I need to step up my game.”

“Please don’t.” He slides on his sunglasses.

Pulling out onto the street, I go over the details of tonight. “What are we thinking? Beer? Mixed drinks? We’ll definitely get chips and stuff, but should we have actual food delivered? What about wings? That sounds good.”

“Nah,” Jaden pipes up. “Wings are messy. No one wants their hands and face covered in sauce at a party. Plus, our sofa is cream-colored. That’s just a disaster waiting to happen.”

“True.” I chuckle, finding it amusing that the thought of barbecue sauce on our couch is what’s bringing Jaden back from the brink of depression.

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