Page 54 of The Pucking Wrong Date

Jolette's smile was victorious and cold, and I could practically see the dollar signs stacking up in that psychotic brain of hers. "Marco will set it up," she said dismissively, like she hadn’t just won the war we’d been waging for the last two years.

She turned on her heel to leave.

“Wait, so that means I’m going to the wedding, right? Because that’s the only way I’ll perform,” I called after her.

Jolette gave me a sickening grin over her shoulder. “Yes, you can go to that little wedding of yours. But if you try anything, if you don’t do that show…” Her grin widened and cold sweat slicked across my forehead at the warning.

She left the apartment after that happy little thought, leaving me alone with my dread and my demons. I felt sick, the walls of my world closing in on me. I wanted to call her back, tell her the deal was off.

But I needed that one weekend of freedom. I needed it like I needed water…to survive.

I would just perform one show. And then I could say no again. I already knew that was one thing I had in my power.

This was Walker’s fault.

If I hadn’t had that night with him, if I hadn’t tasted that one night of liberation, I could have kept going as I had been. I could have accepted my fate.

I wouldn’t have given in.

My eyes landed on the bathroom door, and unlike every other day over the last two years…I didn’t resist.

With shaky hands, I retrieved the pill bottle I had tried so hard to stay away from. Jolette and Marco had started to keep the bottles in the apartment over the last year, to tempt me so to speak.

But I’d already given in on so much today—what was one more thing?

The tiny white tablets offered a cruel sense of comfort, and I sighed at the bitter taste they left on my tongue as I put them in my mouth.

The bitter taste was a perfect reflection for thebitterlife I experienced each day.

The high slid through my senses much faster than it had a few years ago, when I’d depended on it multiple times a day.

I laid on my bed, feeling pathetic, feelingsoout of control of my life, until finally, the numbness swooped in and took it away…and I could breathe again.

CHAPTER 9

WALKER

“Disney’s in the house,” Ari whooped as I strolled into the Dallas bar. I’d just signed a record breaking contract as a goalie with Dallas, and tonight…we were celebrating. I was also breaking some very important news to the “circle of trust.” And in my humble opinion, one of them was much more exciting than the other.

Although I was really fucking excited aboutfinallybeing a Dallas Knight.

Ari held up a glass, a sheen to his gaze that told me he and Linc had already thrown a few back. He’d signed with Dallas a week before, also a very nice contract, and I could practically taste the beer I was going to drink from the Stanley Cup when we won it this year.

They had their phones out, and as I passed behind them to head to the empty seat at the table, I saw they were both watching video footage of Blake and Monroe hanging out in Lincoln’s living room.

“Are you guys stalking your wives right now?” I drawled, nodding at the waitress who’d popped up by the table like she’d been waiting with bated breath to get me whatever I needed.

Judging by the way she was looking at me, that was probably the offer on the table.

“Is that a real question, Disney?” Ari answered, a small smile on his face from whatever he was seeing.

“Whatever they’re having,” I told the waitress dismissively, wishing I had my own camera on Olivia.

I’d been following her every day, living for the small glimpses I got when she went to therapy…basically the only place she ever went. Unless she was going out at night—which I didn’t think she was—since I’d also spent two nights outside her place…to make sure.

The waitress came back with my beer and some chips, queso, and wings.

I fucking loved Texas. And since Olivia had said she was originally from here, I was positive I could get her to love it too.

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