Page 58 of Pucked Up

At one point, Ford skated past me in his sled and pointed two fingers at his eyes, then one at me.

I huffed and waved him off, and he skated away, digging his picks into the ice hard enough to send flecks up in his wake. Tucker made a face behind his mask, then eventually made his way over to thewall and tapped it with his stick until I walked over.

“Ignore him.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, considering I am his coach. And yours.”

Chewing on his mouth guard, he glanced at Ford, then said, “You know we know. Right? Aboutit?”

“I assumed as much.” I wanted to ask him what, exactly, Boden had said. What was I to him before, and then now after it all crashed and burned? But I knew better. That wasn’t a line I was going to cross during practice. “Get back to drills, please. You’re acting captain today.”

Tucker looked annoyed, but mostly because this was going to be his last bit of real playing with his team. When he took over the coaching position for the Legend, that would be it. I’d still see him, I was sure, but not like this.

I didn’t know him well enough to be sad, but there was still an ache in the pit of my stomach that I didn’t entirely understand. Well, that wasn’t true—I did understand. I just wasn’t ready to face what it meant. Especially since it was very clear Boden wanted nothing to do with me outside of what I could give him physically.

And that was fair. That was the amended rules of our little…game.

Shoving that aside, I finished up with practice, then called an end and headed to the office so I could finish up my travel plans. I’d finally spoken to Micah, who seemed resigned to going but notoverly enthusiastic about it, and I felt bad, considering he and I were both being strong-armed into this.

But it was what it was. PPHL politics were no different from the NHL. There was always some corporate asshole making sure optics were pristine, and they didn’t care who was hurt and who was taken advantage of in order to achieve that.

I’d suck it up this once—for Reid, though I doubted he’d have gone if he’d been here. He would have laughed himself silly at Edwin, then insisted we spend the night on the couch with me feeding him all the foods he wasn’t supposed to eat and watching old ’90s rom-coms.

I missed those nights sometimes. It hurt, and I hated myself a little for not appreciating them when I had them. But I also knew Reid wouldn’t want me to wallow in that either. So I wasn’t going to.

“Coach?”

I glanced up from my computer, where my mouse had been hovering over the train ticket purchase button. I was going to grab myself and Micah a room to share since it was a good twenty-four hours to Montreal from the Boston station. Tucker was hovering in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“Not at all. Have a seat. Do you need me to point out?—”

“I’m good,” he said, cutting me off. He found the chair easily and slumped down, using his hands to straighten his prosthetic knees so his feet stretchedout in front of him. “Look, Ford didn’t actually mean?—”

“This isn’t something I’m actually willing to discuss,” I told him without letting him finish. “I understand that Boden is important to you and that he probably tells you almost everything.”

“Too much,” Tucker muttered. “But I guess I kind of deserve it.”

I couldn’t help a small smile. “Of course. But whatever is between us stays out of this building, alright? I don’t want any…” I searched for the word in English. “Untoward rumors going around, especially if he’s picked up by a team.”

Tucker snorted. “Yeah, right. If anyone’s going to take credit about that, it’s his jackass dad. Sorry,” he added quickly. “I know you’re friends or whatever.”

“We are not.” The thought of being friends with that man made my stomach churn. “We’re acquainted. Nothing more than that.”

“I—oh.” He frowned. “Did I know that? Anyway, whatever. That’s good because he’s a real fucking dickhead to Bodie.”

“I’ve noticed.” My words came out quiet and small and full of resentment because I had noticed, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Tucker studied me for a long beat, his slightly scarred, sighted eye fixed on my face for several breaths. “Well, anyway, I—” He stopped again. “I lost track of what I was saying.”

“Is that what you came in here for? To warn me about hurting Boden?”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “Nah. I mean, the fucker hurts himself enough, you know?” I did know. And I hated that too. “I think I just needed you to know that we knew.”

“This gave you away,” I told him, then mimicked the pointed eye gesture Ford had given me on the ice.

“Oh my God, my friends are such fucking nerds,” Tucker moaned. He slapped his hands on his thighs, then pushed to his feet and wobbled a bit before he steadied himself. “Anyway, I’m gonna go so this is less awkward. Just, you know, wrap it up.”

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