Page 57 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
“You were jumping around like a little kid.”
I rub my tired eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, you saw that, huh?”
He chuckles, closing the fridge.
My phone buzzes, so I pull it out, expecting it to be Harper. Instead, I see Liam’s name calling.
I answer on the second ring and say, “Trouble is keeping you so fucking busy, man. Feels like I haven’t seen you. Did you make it official yet?”
He scoffs. “No, Trouble is yesterday’s news.”
I pause. “Here I thought you were going to bring her to the team dinner.”
“Do you still have that extra stick?”
The change of subject means it’s touchy. “You mean the magic stick.”
“That’s the one. I need it.”
I cackle. “You don’t fucking need it.”
“I do. Bring it to practice.”
“My man’s in a mood. You all g?”
“No,” he says. “But who cares, right? Can’t keep it in my pants, so a guy like me doesn’t deserve happiness.”
“Is that what she said?”
“Forget it. Why don’t you check on Sirus, your new best friend. I’m sure he’s more your style these days.”
He ends the call, and this is the beginning of the shitshow I was worried about from the beginning. Liam can catch a girl’s attention, even hold it if he wants to, but he always fucks it up one way or another. Now I’ll be on babysitting duty when he spirals. Great. And he’s jealous that I’ve been hanging out with Sirus. Dude needs to fucking chill.
By the time I get to the rink, I’ve managed to push thoughts of Harper to the back of my mind and focus on the day ahead. Liam’s in a mood when I enter the rink.
“Bring the stick?” he says, all business.
I nod. “It’s leaning against your locker.”
“Well fucking bring it here.”
I hit his shoulder pad. “You fucking get it.”
He stalks off, angrily. I watch him, wondering what the hell happened with Trouble. I almost laugh to myself because he gave her that nickname for a clear reason. Look at him. He’s been so quiet about this one, so he’ll have to deal with it alone. I’m not putting up with his bullshit this time.
I glide onto the ice, no longer worrying about Liam’s shit.
Practice is intense but loose, and Coach is in one of his rare good moods that means we might actually get out early.
In the locker room afterward, the energy is relaxed and easy. Guys are ribbing each other about the team dinner. Sanderson’s new stick is being manhandled by all the guys. Cade’s watching with jealousy. Tommy’s getting roasted for his new haircut, and Sirus is defending his choice to spend Saturday night at a wine tasting with Maddie instead of hitting the bars with the team.
“Wine tasting,” Marcus says, shaking his head. “What’s next, couples pottery classes?”
“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Sirus shoots back. “Besides, Maddie knows more about wine than anyone I’ve met. It’s actually pretty cool.”
I’m half-listening to their debate while checking my phone to see if Harper’s replied to my last message. She hasn’t, but that’s fine—she mentioned having back-to-back classes this morning.
“Look at Cole over here,” Sirus says, noticing my distraction. “Checking his phone every five seconds. Dude’s already whipped. He asked to be his girlfriend yesterday.”
