Page 23 of Pucking Good Girl

“Baety!” he yells, dragging a sleepy Taryn with him and coming to a stop in front of me and his sister.

“She’s here.” I’m holding Tucker’s rescue duck in my arms. “She’s fine.”

The small creature is sleeping peacefully, despite the chaos she indirectly caused.

Tucker takes her from me. “Let me be the judge of that.”

“Tuck,” Talia scolds him. “Baety is ok, thanks to Macklin. You should thank him rather than bark at him like any of this is his fault.”

Our goalie’s eyes narrow at the sight of his sister in the oversized hoodie I had in the bag I usually keep in my locker. Luckily, I had taken some of my workout clothes home to wash them. I prefer to wash my own stuff since the detergent the athletic department uses makes me break out in hives.

“Yeah?” Tucker bites out. “We’ll see about that. What are you doing at five thirty in the morning in Mack’s clothes? Were you spending the night? I thought you two were fa⁠—”

“Babe,” Taryn stops him before he can tell the world that my relationship with his sister is fake. “Baety is fine. I think we have bigger problems than where Talia spent the night right now.”

Taryn’s green eyes meet mine, and she smiles. Since we met in the summer, Tucker’s girlfriend has become one of my best friends.

Taryn isn’t just beautiful and sweet. She’s also very smart and observant.

To the point that she was the only person who had figured out that I liked Talia pretty much from the moment we met.

Tucker’s tone softens as he addresses his girlfriend. “What other problems?”

The answer to his question comes two seconds later when Coach Harrison comes out of the Dean’s office.

The look in his eyes promises endless pain for whoever is responsible for getting him summoned here at this ungodly hour.

“Prescott,” his voice is eerily low. If Coach were yelling, I’d feel better. But it’s when he keeps his legendary temper in check that I know the shit is truly about to hit the fan. “The Dean would like to have a word with you.”

“Ooh,” one of our teammates chuckles. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Tucker knows he’s in trouble without the reminder. “Shut up.” He mutters to no one in particular.

“Yes,” Coach bites out. “Shut up. We’ll establish what happened, and I promise you the consequences won’t be pretty for those who are found responsible.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

“Mack, can you hold Beaty?” Tucker tries to hand me the duck, but I shake my head.

“I’m coming in with you.”

I love Tucker; he’s one of my best friends. But he can be one stubborn motherfucker. “There’s no need.”

He’s wrong. “There is. As your captain, I should be by your side right now.”

Sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places. “Shayba is right, Prescott.” Coach holds the door open for us. “If I were you, I would be honest in there. And for the love of God, speak just when you’re asked a direct question. This isn’t the time for your habitual shenanigans. Am I clear?”

Tucker nods. “Yes, sir.” Thank fuck he understands that the situation is serious. “Taryn, baby, can you and Talia look after Beaty?”

And we get an idea of just how serious when we follow Coach into the Dean’s office after leaving Beaty in Taryn’s capable hands.

A tired-looking Dean Fletcher is sitting behind his desk with a cup of coffee in his hand. The two chairs facing his desk are occupied by the fire brigade head, Chief Holland, and Sheriff Hartman.

“Mr. Prescott.” The Dean is known for his directness, but this morning he seems at a loss as to what to say. “The Gamma House is flooded. We won’t know the financial extent of the damage until we get the insurance report. What we do know is that the house won’t be habitable until the damage is repaired, and that the flood originated in the presidential suite.”

The last few words hit harder than a record breaking slapshot and are aimed right at Tucker.

In compliance with Coach Harrison’s orders, our starting goalie remains stoically quiet.