Page 11 of Arrogant Puck

Cool.

Finally, a bitch that doesn’t react when I come around.

I change. Stretch. Lace up. The hip twinges again when I shift weight to my right. I curse under my breath. It’s worse today, and I know why—too much movement, too many hours fucking strangers like my life depends on it. My body’s telling me to slow down.

But I don’t listen.

By the time we hit the ice, I’m dialed in. I skate hard. Fast. Controlled.

Pain keeps me locked in the moment, and that’s where I live best.

Deep in the pain.

I don’t think about Archer. Or the bitches. Or last night.

And I sure as hell don’t let anyone see me limp when I step off the ice.

Chapter 5

The apartment smells like lavender and weed.

There’s a candle burning on the kitchen counter—probably Emma’s—and the faintest haze in the hallway. I guess she smokes inside. We didn’t really go over that.

To be fair, we didn’t go over much.

She offered the room, I needed a place fast, and now here we are—two strangers pretending not to be in each other’s way.

I drop my duffel bag by the door and kick off my shoes. My feet ache from standing all day, and my hands still smell like medical tape and disinfectant.

I’m halfway to the couch when Emma walks in from the balcony in a crop top and biker shorts, a phone pressed to her ear.

“Yeah, she just got home,” she says to whoever’s on the line. “Looks like they worked her hard. She’s got thatplease don’t talkto meface on.” She laughs. “No, my new roommate is really nice. Quiet girl.”

She catches my eye and grins.

I don’t return it.

She hangs up a beat later. “My cousin. She was asking how it’s going.”

I nod once and sink into the couch.

Emma leans against the counter, sipping something green from a mason jar. “So. First real day?”

“Second,” I say.

“Right. Yesterday was orientation. You settle in okay?”

“I’m getting there.”

“Are you a physical therapist?”

“Assistant.”

“Same thing.”

Not really, but I don’t correct her.

She’s trying to be friendly. I don’t have the energy.

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