Page 163 of Pucking Matt
Maddie feels her pockets and says, “Crap. I left my phone in the car. Can I borrow yours?”
I nod, fishing my phone out of my back pocket. “Sure.”
Maddie takes it, her eyes meeting mine in a way that feels... off. Before I can process it, she's bolting down the hallway.
“What the—Maddie?” I call out, hands raised in bewilderment. She disappears into the locker room, leaving me standing here like an idiot.
“Maddie!” I try again, my voice echoing in the now-empty corridor.
Great. Why would she do that? I'm thoroughly confused. She can’t get away with stealing my phone. And I can't exactly leave without it. Sighing, I start towards the locker room. “Maddie?”
That's when I spot it—a sign reading “This way” with an arrow. Is this some kind of joke? Against my better judgment, I follow it down the hall.
I round the corner to find Clifford—or Cliff, as the guys call him—standing there with a white silk... robe? His tan skin and tattoos make for a strange contrast against the delicate fabric.
“Here,” he says, holding it up like he's about to wrap me in it.
“What?” I ask, bafflement clear in my voice.
As Cliff drapes the robe over my shoulders, I notice Trevor nearby, clutching a pair of boxing gloves. He gestures for me to hold out my hands, sliding the gloves on my hands as if this is all perfectly normal.
“Okay, seriously,” I laugh, a mix of amusement and confusion. “What are you guys doing?”
This is so absurd, I can't help but play along. But part of me is wondering what exactly I'm walking into—and where the hell Maddie went with my phone.
As I'm trying to make sense of the situation, Quinton appears, brandishing a boxing helmet. Before I can protest, he's already fitting it onto my head.
“Okay.” I splutter. “I just need to find Maddie. She ran off with my phone. Did you see her?”
But they're not listening. Instead, I'm suddenly being ushered through the locker room door, plunged into darkness. A bright flashlight beam hits my face, momentarily blinding me as the guys push me further in, the door shutting behind us.
A loud voice rumbles through the silence, “Introducing Amber Hughes, also known as Mike Tyson! She can smash two cookies in one day, loves a beach walk, and is going to put your ass in jail when she becomes a lawyer! Her specialty is Superman-ing fellas down the stairs!”
My stomach does a somersault. I can't see a thing beyond the blinding light, but I can feel sweat starting to bead under these ridiculous boxing gloves. What in the world is happening? I'm sweating nervously, yet there's an undeniable thrill of excitement coursing through me.
Suddenly, the spotlight swings away from me and onto... Matt? He's shirtless, bouncing around like he's Rocky Balboa or something.
“And introducing her opponent,” the voice booms through the darkness, “known as Magic on the ice, but whipped for his girlfriend, Amber Hughes!”
As my eyes adjust, I realize we're surrounded by a circle of Matt's teammates. They're all grinning like idiots.
“He loves raisins, and let's be honest, he is a proud man of his four inches!”
I nearly choke at that last bit. Oh my God. Is this really happening? A mix of embarrassment and amusement washes over me as I lock eyes with Matt across our makeshift boxing ring. Whatever this is, it's clear I'm in for one hell of a surprise.
I can't help but laugh, my gloved hand muffling the sound. These boxing gloves are surprisingly comfy. I flex my fingers, making a fist as Matt dramatically cracks his neck under the spotlight.
Suddenly, the room transforms. Disco lights start flashing and a smoke machine kicks in, creating a surreal haze across the locker room floor. Matt's eyes find mine, and for a moment, it's like we're the only two people here. The realization hits me– he orchestrated all of this. It's beyond any prank we've ever committed. I smile. It's… oddly romantic.
I spot Maddie in the crowd, grinning as she records everything on my phone. So that's why she asked for it. Clever, girl. I can't believe she was in on this.
Matt taps his gloves together, fixing me with a playful glare.
“It's a showdown between Matt and Amber. Let's get ready to rumble!” the announcer bellows.
Matt approaches, tapping my gloves. I hesitate, shaking my head. Boxing in front of his entire team? Really?
“Come on,” Matt goads, tapping my gloves again.
