Page 23 of Playing the Pucking Game
His expression softens as he accepts my thanks, and when his lips part, I really think that something nice, thoughtful even, is going leave them.
Oh, how wrong I am.
“I’m Lincoln Storm, babe. I can make anything happen.”
“Of course. How could I forget,” I mutter. “I’m not even going to ask how you know my bra size.”
His smirk grows.
“And I don’t want to know about your vast experience with women’s bodies that means you can guess on sight alone.”
“Man, I wish. What a superpower that would be.”
“Life changing,” I deadpan as I take a sip of my fresh iced coffee before picking up my cell.
“It’s been lighting up like crazy,” Linc tells me, but it isn’t necessary; I can see all the notifications.
I don’t know where to start.
But then I see that I’ve had a missed call from Maddie, and I figure that’s as good a place as any.
“Hey, how are you all?” I ask the second the call connects.
She sighs. “We’re all okay. Kids have a cough, but the doctors assured us that it’ll pass in a few days. The only lasting effects will be the memories.”
“God, I can only imagine.”
Taking my coffee, I walk through to the living room and curl up on one of Linc’s huge couches.
He watches me go, but he doesn’t attempt to stop me.
With my legs curled under me, I listen to Maddie as she recalls their night before going on to explain what she knows.
The long and the short of it is that the building is fucked.
Thankfully, everyone who lives there has been contacted, and they either made it out or they weren’t at home.
I guess that’s one good thing about it being on a night when most of the city is out at parties. Maddie tells me the building has been condemned and that no one is allowed in until they’ve secured it and deemed it safe, so we have to wait to discover the state of our homes and our possessions. She thinks it could be weeks.
As awful as this is for me, I think of all the families in our building. Those who’ve lived there all their lives. It must be beyond devastating.
Maddie checks in with me, making sure that I have somewhere to stay and support around me.
They’re at George’s parents’, which is close enough to both their work and the kids’ school so they can attempt to continue with some kind of normal life, but I can’t imagine everyone in our building is that lucky.
After promising to send me a number I can call for updates, she promises to stay in touch and offers to help me out with anything I need, which I appreciate but will never act on. Her life has been turned upside down just like mine has. She has to look after her own family before even considering anyone else.
“That didn’t sound overly promising,” Linc says after I’ve hung up and lowered my cell to my lap, clearly not giving a shit about eavesdropping on my half of the conversation.
“It wasn’t. She didn’t say it for a fact, but I’m pretty sure I’ve lost everything.” My voice is cold and hollow as I say the words.
I know things could be worse. No one has died. It’s just a building and a few possessions. But I’m pretty sure the tightness in my chest is grief.
“I’ve got something that might cheer you up,” Linc says.
“More than buying me lingerie?” I tease.
“Babe, trust me: that was all for me.”
