Page 27 of Married As Puck
Heat floods my cheeks, and I’m honestly considering leaving the room, but Collins shakes his head firmly, voice sharp. “No. She stays. She needs to hear this. She’s going to be your wife and live this life, she better get used to the reality. This isn’t just hockey—it’s power, deals, influence. She should know what you’re tied to.”
My stomach twists. The words feel heavy, too heavy for me to carry right now.
Cameron scoffs. “You think throwing that in her face will scare me into agreeing to this bullshit?” His voice is low, dangerous. “This is between you and me.”
“Wrong.” Collins folds his arms, planting himself like a boulder in the middle of the room. “It’s between us all. You want to play the lone wolf, fine. But you won’t survive in this world doing it your way. Not now. Not ever. Go ask the other players without a manager, ask how they’re fairing. I do not want to mention names, but you know damn well who I’m talking about.”
Their voices climb higher, louder, overlapping until I can’t even make out half of what they’re saying. It’s just a storm of male ego and clashing wills, and I’m caught in the center of it, shrinking further and further into myself.
I bite down on my lip, shifting my weight, looking between them again. The tension makes the air thick, suffocating. My hands curl into fists at my sides. Do they even realize I’m still here? Do they even care that I’m listening to all of these.”
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. The sound, the arrogance, the sheer childishness of it all—it just does something to me.
“Okay, that’s enough!” I shout, my voice cracking through their argument like a whip. Both of them freeze, their heads whipping toward me. My chest heaves as I step forward, glaring at them both. “For God’s sake, do you hear yourselves? You’re yelling like boys in a playground fight. You’re supposed to be grown men!”
The silence that follows is deafening. Cameron’s brows lift slightly, surprise flickering across his face. Collins tilts his head, one brow arched, like he’s impressed but annoyed at the same time.
I take a breath, steadying myself. “If you two are going to hash this out, then do it like adults. Talk. Don’t shout, don’t throw your pride around like it’s some kind of weapon. Because right now, all I see are two egos clashing while I’m left standing here like furniture in the room.”
Cameron blinks at me, and for the first time tonight, his anger falters. Collins lets out a low chuckle under his breath, but there’s no humor in it—it’s sharp, almost mocking.
I cross my arms tightly, squaring my shoulders despite the way my heart hammers in my chest. “So either lower your voices and talk like civilized human beings, or I swear I’ll walk out that door and let you scream yourselves hoarse without me.”
The weight of my words lingers in the air. Both men are watching me now, their fight paused, their energy redirected. For once, I’m not just an observer. I’ve forced myself into the center of it.
And God help me, I don’t know what that means for what comes next.
“You walk out that door, and you’d know why you shouldn’t have even bothered to live with me in the first place.” Cameron says and walks back to his room.
Collins shakes his head, “don’t mind him, he’ll come around, let’s just let him stew for a while.”
11
It’s been a full day since Collins barged into the apartment and twisted everything out of place. Brie barely speaks to me. She spends most of her time locked in her room, only slipping out when she thinks I won’t notice, grabbing whatever she needs from the kitchen before vanishing again. Collins, on the other hand, keeps coming around here like he has the right to…well, I mean given the fact that he’s taken over my life, it isn’t exactly surprising. Last night he even came back with groceries, smug as ever, as if I should thank him for keeping us from starving.
My phone shrieks in the silence of my apartment, jolting me upright from where I’ve been slumped on the couch, staring at nothing. My head throbs, my muscles ache, and for a second, I consider ignoring it. But the ringtone is insistent, cutting into the fog of my thoughts.
Collins. It definitely has to be Collins.
I groan, dragging my hand down my face, bracing myself for his voice, for the smug satisfaction I know will be dripping off histongue. I’m ready to rip into him, to tell him for the hundredth time that I’m not playing this game. That he can take his schemes and shove them—
But it’s not Collins.
“Gray,” comes a different voice. Calm. Steady. Heavy with authority. My chest tightens instantly.
Coach.
My blood chills. What now?
“We saw the news,” Coach says. “Your supposed wedding.”
I freeze, blood draining from my face, heart hammering so hard I can hear it in my ears. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
“I… uh…” The words stumble out, half-formed. Not a lie. Not the truth. Just caught. Trapped. I have no idea how the topic of an actual wedding came up, but, well…
Coach doesn’t press. He sighs. “Look, we don’t know this side of you. We didn’t know you had… a life outside the rink.”
My stomach twists. Judgment? Disappointment? Curiosity? I can’t tell what exactly is going on in his head.
