Page 48 of Pucked Up

I’d forgotten how much coaching was more than just standing at the edge of the ice watching my players lead themselves in a game I really had no skill at. I’d gotten proficient enough to push Reid around on the ice, but God help us all if anyone depended on me and my skates.

I didn’t mind being stuck in my office though. It was quiet there, but not the pressing quiet of my still unfamiliar apartment, where nothing felt like home. Everything there still smelled faintly like the plastic wrap it had all come in, and the food tasted wrong.

It wouldn’t last. I knew that much. I’d been plagued with that feeling every time Reid and I had to switch homes, but this was…different, and I couldn’t put my finger on why.

Tapping my pen, I looked down at my playbook and attempted to focus, but it felt impossible. Guilt was weighing on me. Not for moving on but for standing in the way. I wanted to make Boden a better player, but the arrogance I felt, the belief that I could do it with my dick, was something new.

And crossing lines I’d drawn myself wasn’t something I was used to.

When he came out of the fog and stepped into the PPHL, would he forgive me?

“Knock knock?”

I looked up to find Tucker hovering in my doorway.He seemed a little nervous, rocking back and forth as he leaned most of his weight on his walking cane.

“Come in. There’s a chair a few feet in front of you.”

He nodded. I knew he could see better since his surgery, and he didn’t miss the chair as he grabbed the back and lowered himself down. I hadn’t seen him in a while. He was transitioning into his coaching job, and I knew he was getting ready to hand in his A since he was playing less.

“Something I can help you with?”

He was quiet for a beat, and then he said, “You know how this shit—community league or professional, it doesn’t matter—they’re all like a knitting circle.”

I frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Gossip,” he said.

I sat back. Shit. Did he know? Did everyone? Had Boden been telling people? It was hard to imagine he’d willingly give up the secret of us, considering the mountain of shit he’d given me as his coach.

“Alright,” I said slowly when Tucker didn’t expand his thoughts.

“Look, I just need to know that you and Bodie’s dad aren’t bribing anyone in the league to get him a spot. I think he’d take it”—he leaned over his thighs—“but he’d literally spiral into a puddle of viscera and goo if he got the position because of his dad. You know that guy? Right?”

“We’ve met,” I admitted.

Tucker sat back with a groan. “The guy is a class A douche bag. I don’t know if you know those words?—”

“I don’t live under a rock,” I said flatly.

He blinked, then snorted. “Yeah, okay. Fair. But you know what I mean, right? He thinks his balls are smooth and his asshair smells like roses.”

I tried not to grimace at the mental images. “I…suppose, yes. He does come across as arrogant.”

“I mean, he was a mediocre player at best. And you want to know what I think?” I had a feeling he was going to tell me anyway, so I didn’t answer. “I think the fucker shits himself every time he thinks about how Boden would be better than him on two skates if he had the ability, and that drives him nuts. He can be actually comfortable about losing his fuck-ass hockey family legacy or whatever because he’ll never be outplayed by his own son, and I think he likes that.”

I bit my lip. I knew there were issues, but this was…a lot.

“And I think that drives him nuts because he was never able to break any ofhisdad’s records, and Bodie’s granddad was also a mediocre fuckface.”

“I never did look too closely at their stats,” I confessed. I braced myself for his anger.

Tucker just scoffed. “Probably better if you don’t. But seriously, I need to know if the shit everyone is saying is true and Bodie’s going to get in because of his dad’s bribery and whatever bullshit. I mean, I don’t know how you fit into this.Like, are you a secret billionaire who funds the entire PPHL, or…”

I laughed. “I’m most definitely not.” I had more money than I knew what to do with, considering everything Reid left me, but I didn’t live on it. At some point, I’d probably donate most of it. It felt like blood money.

“Okay. So…”

“It’s not true,” I interrupted him. I wasn’t ready to talk about Reid with him. Tucker was kinder than he’d been when I first met him, but he wasn’t someone I trusted with my most tender secrets. “I have the connections to get scouts to see him play, but Boden will have to get in on his own merits.” I also wasn’t going to tell him I’d already gotten offers for Boden. “Obviously, it’s more difficult, considering his record and his age?—”

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