Page 24 of Pucked Into Position

I nod, and the dam breaks. I confess everything: the PR meeting, how I blurted out her name to keep Brenda from controlling my life, Lana’s agreement, our first “fake” date, our first kiss, and all the phone calls while I was away. The only thing I don’t detail out is what happened after the kiss.

“I feel so guilty for dragging her into this. She had just gotten here and I…I fucked up, but…every time I look at her now, the rest of the world goes quiet. And not in the way it did before, now the silence feels like something to look forward to, no longer a punishment for being in the limelight.”

Tucker is silent, nodding slowly.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I took advantage of her,” I admit, lowering my head. “I should have trusted that you’d understand.”

Tucker’s posture is no longer rigid. He finishes his beer and fidgets with the bottle. “Honestly, I think I already knew how you both felt.” He lets out a low whistle and runs his hand over his blond buzz cut. “When I walked in, I won’t lie, I thought you were just flirting with her and leading her on. But, now that you’ve told me everything, it makes sense why she stormed out. The way she looks at you in those pictures, I knew deep down that wasn’t fake.”

Tucker leans forward, angling himself toward me, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look at me, Ry.”

I meet his gaze, his brown eyes sincere.

“So, you’re in love with my sister? What are you going to do about it?”

I pause, my chest aching with the words I want to say.

“I want all of her, Tuck, not some fake media stunt or good luck charm. I want to build a life with her. I want…I want to marry her.” I let out a humorless chuckle and look back down at the beer in my hands. “But, it’s probably too late for that now. I was a coward when it really counted, and I told her older brother and my best friend that she was just a prop to save me from the PR team too many times. She’s never going to forgive me for that.”

The silence that falls between us feels loaded with unspoken possibilities. I tap my fingers against the bottle and watch the flickering silver and blue lights from the TV cast distorted shapes across the amber glass.

It’s nearly midnight before Tucker finally speaks up again. He stands, takes our empty beer bottles to the kitchen, and pulls out his keys.

“Give me until the game tomorrow,” Tucker says, his voice firm. “Let her cool off, and let me talk to her. But when that final buzzer sounds tomorrow night, you’d best be ready to confess to Lana everything you just told me. Because if you hold back a single word, I’m helping her move out.”

Chapter Eight

Lana

“Lana, you trust me, don’t you?” Tucker asks beside me in the family box.

We’re at the Lone Stars’ first playoff game of the season. I turn to glower at him. I didn’t want to be here. But he’d insisted at breakfast this morning over a huge stack of my favorite Denny’s pancakes, and he wouldn’t have asked me to come if he didn’t think it was important.

“I do trust you, but he hurt me.”

“He’s hurting too, sis. And even if you choose to walk away, you’re not the type of person to leave a teammate high and dry before the final game.” Tucker elbows my ribs, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Remember when that one girl you were best friends with got you kicked off the cheer team halfway through the season? You still showed up at every single competition after just to cheer her and the others on.”

“Ugh, why do you have to remind me?” I do remember, but I refuse to acknowledge the unspoken part of the story where Anna and I became best friends after the fact. Even though she’d gotten me kicked out because her crush picked me for lifts, I still showed up to every event and cheered them on. Somehow, along the way, we became best friends.

“Because I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.” He winks and wraps me in a one-armed hug. I sigh and lean into it. I missed his hugs.

Tucker has always been able to read me and knows exactly how my mind works. Even if he hadn’t talked me into coming, I likely would have shown up at the last minute anyways. Not because I’ve forgiven Ryan, but because I made a commitment to being his girlfriend, at least for the season.

But the second the season ends, I’m out. I’ve already decided to move in with Leah. She talked to the student housing manager, and they said we could either stay in the one bedroom and add a second twin-size bed, or move up into a two-bedroom apartment on campus. Moving into a larger space will mean money is tight, but my advisor helped me find some of the work-study positions at the college, so I’d be scheduled around class times, and even have the possibility of working in the engineering lab or as a TA for one of the instructors in a year or two.

It’s a terrifyingly delicate balance, but I can handle it. It means I can stay in Houston, and won’t live in a penthouse teeming with tension.

A horn blares through the stadium, echoing in my empty chest and sending my heart into a tizzy. The team pours out from under the stands and I lean forward, looking for Ryan.

He skates out behind the team, and the crowd goes wild. I notice as he glances up at the family box and even though he’s below us and far enough away that I can’t see his hazel eyes, I know he’s looking at me.

I feel the air shift, electricity pulsing between us.

The teams get into place and the moment the puck drops, the atmosphere shifts. I find myself instantly tracking Ryan’s massive, unmistakable figure at the home team’s net. He moves with a fluid, terrifying precision, cutting across the crease like a predator guarding its territory.

Before I can even register my own movements, the sports fan—no, the Ryan fan—in me takes full control. When an opposing forward launches a vicious unexpected slapshot from the blue line, my breath catches in my throat and Tucker chuckles.

Ryan lunges, his glove hand snapping out like a whip to catch the puck clean out of the air.