Page 83 of Puck Love

“Van, stop.” Stella shakes herhead.

“No. I need to get thisout.”

“Well I, for one, am going to bed. All this mushy sentiment makes me want to stab someone.” Lana smooths the lapels of her jacket. The ballbuster is dressed in a fucking power suit, after midnight. “I think it’s time for you boys toleave.”

“We haven’t met yet. You’re the manager, right?” I ask, but I know exactly who she is. Lana preens. She holds her hand out to shake, but I ignore it. “The manager who ran Stella into theground?”

She narrows her eyes. “Excuseme?”

“You heardme.”

“Van, that’s enough,” Stella says, and I glance between the two of them. “I appreciate you coming all this way, but . . . it was a mistake. Just like I said in theinterview.”

“Bullshit. It doesn’t feel like a mistake. It never felt like a mistake.” I scrub a hand down over my face. I wanna hit something. I wanna shout that I know that isn’t true, but I have no desire to frighten her, not after that fuckhead Logan beather.

Lana sighs. She turns toward the house as if she’s planning on going inside, and it dawns on me. “She put you up to this, didn’tshe?”

“Oh, please.” Lana rolls hereyes.

“Hey.” My best friend steps closer, extending his hand to the dragon lady. She practically sneers at it. “I’m Eli Boucher, star forward for the Calgary Crushers.” That isn’t true. But I let him get away with it because I’m otherwise pre-occupied.

“I don’t care,” she says slowly and clearly, as if she’s talking to a child. “Why don’t you run along back to Canada and play with yourstick?”

He chuckles. “Canada is an awfully long way away. How ’bout you and I go inside and you can play with my stick rightnow?”

She inspects her nails, looking every bit the cold-hearted bitch. “I don’t fuck hockey players. I’m smarter thanthat.”

Stella shoots her a look, and her manager has the good grace to at least appear apologetic. I tune everyone else out and take Stella’s hand. Her gaze darts back to mine. There are tears in her eyes. “Country, baby, I know you know this isn’tright.”

“I don’t know anything right now, Van. I’m a littleconfused.”

“You’re not confused about me—about us,” I say and pull her closer, but she backsaway.

“Who are those girls at the gate? Who were the three women on theradio?”

“I told you, those girls helped us find our way here, and what women on the radio? Stella, I want you.” I gently take her chin between my thumb and forefingers and attempt to bring her closer, but she backs up out ofreach.

“Yeah, until we haven’t seen one another in months and a bunny is moreaccessible.”

“What are you talking about?” I spare a glance at her manager, but she seems to be locked in a heated and very close debate withEli.

“You should go,” Stellasays.

“Stella.”

“Don’t come backhere.”

“Stella!” She hurries inside and I attempt to follow, but Lana steps in my way. “Move.”

“She told you to leave. You best do as she asks and remove yourself from her property before you wind up in jail, and I know your coach wouldn’t be happy with that. In fact, I dare say you could get in an awful lot of trouble if he learns that either one of you are down here inTennessee.”

“You just have to control every little facet of her life, don’t you? Does it make you feel better about your own to know that one day she might be as lonely and bitter as youare?”

Her eyes narrow, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. “Stella is free to date whomever she wants. She’s just not willing to settle for a player. I’ve taught her better thanthat.”

“I’m not a player,” I say through myteeth.

She arches a brow. “And yet the three women who spoke on live radio about it earlier beg todiffer.”

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