Puck Block : A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Bexley U)
Puck Block : Chapter 39

When Ford touches Bryn’s waist and leans her against her bedroom door, I’m ripped to shreds. The jealousy I feel is completely insane.

I know it’s a ploy, and she does too.

The only person who doesn’t know is Emory.

Emory sighs loudly. “Okay, that’s enough. Kiss her goodbye, and get in here.”

As if I’m a glutton for punishment, I stay in the hall right in front of my bedroom door and watch Ford lean in to kiss Bryn. My stomach rolls when he pulls her in close and presses his mouth to hers. If I didn’t already know before, I’m well aware of how consumed I am with him, because I could crumble to the floor with the ache in my chest.

When he backs away and shoots her a wink, I bite the inside of my cheek and push Emory out of the way. I stomp into my bedroom, knowing he’ll follow.

“What the fuck was that for?” Emory says, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion while he waits for my answer.

Ford enters my room next, and I can’t even look at him.

Oh my god. Get it together, Taytum!

“What was what for?” Ford asks.

Emory shrugs. “I think Taytum woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Ford hums. “She looks well-rested to me.”

I’m going to kill him.

I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you want, Emory? I have things to do.”

And those things involve getting my shit together so I can stand to look in Ford’s direction without losing it. My phone beeps, and I’m actually thankful for the distraction.

“We gotta go home,” Emory says, following my every move. I check my sugar, and I’m surprised to replace my blood sugar high, versus low. I reach for my pen, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Ford take a step toward me, but I shoot him a silent warning.

“Why do we have to go home?” I ask, prepping my pen.

Emory flops onto my messy blankets. Ford clears his throat as he leans against my closed door, and when I finally give him attention, I can tell he’s trying to tell me something.

What?

He drops his eyes to the floor beside my bed. I follow his line of sight, and my knees give out. I grip my desk, and Emory sits up quickly. “Are you okay? Do you need one of us to do it?”

My hand shakes when his shoe lands an inch from Ford’s used condom. Worry etches onto my brother’s face, and he leaps from the bed and comes to stand beside me. I quickly flash a look to Ford while Emory insists he help me with my insulin. By the time we’re done, Ford is casually leaning against my window with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Are we all good now?” he asks as nonchalantly as ever.

My answer is clipped. “I’m fine.” Then I turn to Emory. “Why do we need to make a trip home?”

Emory sits back on my messy bed. If he only knew what I did on it last night with his best friend. Ford is staring at the blankets and probably having the same thought as I am. Or maybe not, since he had no issues sticking his tongue down Bryn’s throat a few minutes ago.

“Because something fishy is going on. I asked why they aren’t coming to the game next week, and they were being cryptic.”

Shame burns my cheeks. I know exactly why they aren’t coming to the game. They can’t afford it. And the reason they can’t afford it is because of me.

“Don’t worry,” Ford jokes. “I’ll root for you, Emory Bemory.”

If I wasn’t so worked up, I would probably laugh.

Emory is used to ignoring Ford’s teasing, so he doesn’t pay him any mind and continues explaining his plan. “We can drive down there after our practice, stay the night, and head back tomorrow.”

No. “And do what? Scour the house for clues? Did you ask them why they’re not coming?”

Emory scoffs. “Yeah, and they gave me the dumbest excuse.”

“Which was?”

“They said they couldn’t miss Lennie’s birthday party.”

Ford rakes a hand through his messy hair. “Lennie? Your dad hates Lennie.”

Emory snaps a finger. “Exactly. Something is up, so we’re going home, and we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

“Em–” I start, but he interrupts me.

“You have to come. I’m supposed to be watching over you, remember?”

This again? “I’m not ten. I’m in my twenties.”

“And you nearly died just a couple of months ago. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

I look at Ford because if he stays here, I won’t be alone, but he’s silently begging me not to ask. There’s a discreet shake of his head, and I sigh loudly before turning back to my brother. “Fine.”

“Pack your shit, and don’t forget your insulin. Meet us at the rink after practice, and we’ll leave then.” Emory is out the door before I can protest.

Ford and I stare at each other from across my bedroom, and defiance backs me up. “Too afraid to stay at Bexley U with me without the threat of my brother walking in on us?”

His eyes narrow. “You’re playing dirty, Tay.”

I cross my arms and shrug.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

Ford’s perfect smile catches me off guard. I grab my hairbrush and chuck it at his head, knowing he’s fast enough to dodge it to begin with. His laugh echoes throughout my room. “I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You don’t know everything about me,” I jab.

He snickers, and it’s the most sarcastic noise I have ever heard. “You didn’t like my little show, did you?”

Damn him for knowing me so well.

“Better go. My brother is waiting for you.”

Ford strides across my bedroom floor leisurely. He stops when he’s right in front of me. I’m eye-level with his chest, but when he slips his finger beneath my chin, I’m forced to look at him. “If it makes you feel any better, the only reason I don’t want to stay here with you while Emory goes home is because I don’t trust myself anymore.”

He quickly backs away. There’s an obvious line drawn between us now, and it gets thicker with each step he takes.

Before he leaves me alone with my thoughts, he grins. “And don’t worry, you’re a much better kisser than she is.”

My jaw drops, and his laughter echoes all the way down the stairs and out the front door.