Page 118 of The Puckable Playbook

Finally, we’re being seen. A thrill shoots through me, and when I get off the bus, people call out my name. I give them a wave, not sure what else to do.

“Feel free to come to my place tonight, James!” a girl shouts. “I’ll give you a special score.”

I grin, shaking my head. Reaching out, I take Len’s hand—Since when is there hair on her knuckles?

“Dude,” Watt says with a laugh.

“Oh.” I turn, searching for Len. I could’ve sworn she was right behind me, but she’s not. I stay where I am, waiting for all the players to pass by when I see her on the sidewalk, blendingin with the people who came to welcome us back. “What are you doing?” I ask, waving her toward me.

She doesn’t move, her eyes widening a little. I go back and get her, putting my arm around her, but she shies away. “Letting you have your time in the spotlight.”

“Hey.” I squeeze her shoulders. Her lips thin. Why doesn’t she look as happy as the words coming out of her mouth? “Isn’t this awesome? I’m going to drop my bag in the locker room, then we’ll figure out what we’re doing, okay?”

She pulls me a few yards away. “I’m probably going to head back.”

“To the arena? Did you forget something?”

“No, to the apartment.”

I drop my head. “Seriously? You don’t want to come out with us?”

She shrugs half-heartedly.

I step in close. “It won’t be like last time. Promise.”

She flits her gaze up to mine. Pressing her lips together, she just looks at me, eyes guarded. “Yeah, okay.”

“You sure?”

She nods.

“This is going to be great,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“We’re all going to Bubbles!” shouts the girl from out front. “Come join us, hockey hotties!”

I shake my head. “I think she’s drunk, Len.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Bubbles it is!” I shout back.

Every breath I take is a hit of dopamine. People are still yelling things, so I wave, squeezing Len. “I’ll be right back. Do you want to change?”

She doesn’t answer, and when I finally look at her, she’s staring at her feet. “Do I have to?”

“No, you look great.”

“Okay.”

“Everything’s going to be awesome.” I hug her again. “Be out in a couple minutes.”

When I run back into the locker room, the guys are still celebrating and talking trash excitedly. “Bubbles, gentlemen. We’re all going to Bubbles. A few of you might thank me later.”

My teammates high-five each other, and then we go into a Bulldog chant. I can’t even describe the feeling. It’s a heady, exhilarating mix that makes me want to keep taking a hit off it.

I need more. I will get more.

CHAPTER THIRTY

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