Page 11 of Playing the Pucking Game
It’s New Year’s, and I was about to return home to my apartment alone, yet again.
I suck in a ragged breath, and a cough erupts. I’m standing out on the street, and the smoke is affecting me. I can’t evenbegin to imagine what Maddie, George, and the rest of my neighbors have been through.
Fuck. I hope they all made it out.
I stumble back, staring up at my building as it burns.
The firefighters are already trying to tackle it. They might be succeeding, but to my untrained eye, there seems to be more fire than water, even with the rain, and that isn’t a good sign.
A sob breaks free as I think about my home.
Sure, it was never my forever home, but it was my safe place all the same, and I loved it.
It’s stupid and I feel materialistic as fuck, but thoughts of all my things make the tears fall faster. The clothes and decorations I’ve purchased while on shopping trips with Casey. Silly gifts that Rett sends me from his travels around the country for games. Christmas and birthday gifts from my parents. The drawing Sutton did for me that I have pride of place, pinned to my fridge.
As I break down, a set of arms wrap around me.
I startle, not expecting anyone to be comforting me when they’re all living their own nightmare right now.
But then his rich, manly scent hits my nose a beat before my cheek presses against his firm chest, and the tears fall faster.
Linc.
With one hand banded tight around my back, his other hand sinks into my hair, holding me tighter than I think I’ve ever been held before.
It’s…too nice. Too much.
But at the same time, I’m powerless but to accept it.
Voices float around me, but I don’t have the energy to pull my head from his chest. The image of our building burning is seared into my head; I don’t need to look up and see it all over again.
I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen enough to ensure the image will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life.
Linc’s chest vibrates as he says something, but I don’t make out any words.
The next thing I know, we’re moving.
“W-what?—”
I look up and find we’re walking back toward his car. His arm is locked tightly around me, and I shamelessly cling to him. If I don’t, there’s every chance I’ll end up in a pile on the damp ground. At least that’s what I tell myself because I can’t cope with any other reason right now.
“There’s nothing we can do here but get in the way,” he explains, his voice soft.
Another sob bubbles up my throat when he releases me to open the passenger door, and thankfully, I manage to catch it before it erupts.
He helps me get in as if I’m a child. He pulls back, and I expect him to move out of the way and close the door, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he lingers, his eyes bouncing between mine as if he’s searching for something.
I blink, forcing another tear to fall.
Without missing a beat, Linc reaches out and catches it with his thumb.
“It’s going to be okay, babe,” he says softly before leaning forward and pressing the sweetest kiss on my forehead.
It does very little for my fragile state.
He pulls back, checks on me again, and offers a sympathetic smile before backing away and closing the door.
