Pucking Revenge : A Fake dating, friends to lovers, hockey romance (The Revenge Games Book 2)
Pucking Revenge : Chapter 24

“WHEN WILL YOU BE HOME?”

The only reason Ethan is asking is because my mother is driving him nuts. He knows as well as I do that she’ll turn her desperation on me the moment I walk through the door. Then he’ll have a reprieve.

I turn my phone so that Ethan can see the team calendar pinned to my bedroom wall. Each of our trips, including the one to North Carolina in four weeks, is listed clearly. He knows when I’ll be there, so the question is unnecessary. The kid follows the Bolts’ schedule like he works for the team. He knows all the guys’ stats and loves to tell me who’s playing well and who could use some work. Not that I share that information with them, and not that I have any control over the roster or decisions that aren’t directly related to PR.

“Soonish. You know that.”

Ethan groans. “Wish I could come stay with you. Your apartment is empty half the time anyway, since all you do is travel.”

I laugh. “I doubt Mom would let you move to Boston, but nice try.”

“She barely lets me go to the bathroom alone, so yeah, that’s a solid no.” He heaves a sigh. “You going to see Josie today?”

“It’s Sunday and I’m in Boston, so you know it.”

“Can you FaceTime me when you get there?”

“Will do.” I nod and give him a smile. “Okay, I’m going to get in the shower. I told Ava we’d meet her at ten.”

Lennox walks out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her body and her platinum blond hair dry.

“Love you, kiddo. Say hi to Lenny.” I toss her the phone, then head toward the bathroom while she wanders out into the main living area.

Lennox and I have a busy day planned. While I typically enjoy having a quiet day at home after a Saturday game, I need the time with my best friend so that I can get my head screwed on straight when it comes to Brooks.

Last night threw me. Even more than the night before. The orgasm delivered by Brooks fucked with me, that’s a given, and I’ve been aching for him to touch me again.

But when he kissed me in front of the press? When he claimed me in public and in private? My world flipped upside down, and it still hasn’t righted itself.

I feel like I’m floating. My stomach has flipped more in the last twelve hours than it did when I spent the day riding roller coasters as a teenager. My heart skips a beat when I so much as think his name, let alone remember the way he smiled as he said “just one more” before he kissed me again.

Butterflies. That’s what Brooks Langfield gives me. Fucking kaleidoscopes of butterflies.

Thirty minutes later, we’re dressed in jeans and sweaters and heading into the bakery to grab goodies to bring to the hospital.

“Extra pink ones, please,” I remind the woman behind the counter.

“Josie’s favorite,” Ava says softly, a wistful smile on her face. “I brought her chocolate the other day. You should have seen the way her face fell. Won’t be doing that again.”

I laugh, and my heart tugs at the thought of her trying to hide her disappointment.

Josie is all feisty sweetness. Her personality is a contradiction to the frail body she’s trapped inside. God, what I’d do to see her outside those hospital walls, running and playing like other kids her age.

My brother has spent more than his fair share of time in a hospital bed, and every time he’s admitted, it breaks my heart, but Josie’s always stuck inside those beige hospital walls. The bland canvas depresses me within minutes each time I visit her. I can’t imagine being a virtual prisoner inside them. It’s why we brighten her room in any way we can as often as we can. Ava gets over there more often than me because I travel with the team, and the heartache of Josie’s situation hits her the hardest.

“You sure she won’t mind if I come with you?” Lennox is loaded down with a cardboard drink tote filled with hot coffee and a bag of snacks for the nurses.

We’ve got donuts and hot chocolate for all the kids on the peds floor, and a special pink donut for our Josie girl.

Ava snorts, her red hair swinging as she tosses her head back. “She’ll have you roped into bringing her treats for the next year.” With a hum, she eyes Lennox’s black boots with the red heel. “Actually, she’ll probably ask for something with a little sparkle from you.”

I grin. Josie does love sparkles.

We deliver the coffee and treats to the nurses’ station in the peds unit. A group of them, all dressed in pastel scrubs with animals printed on them, are chatting and working on charts, but they light up when we approach. Ava’s the regular here, but she includes me in her Sunday tradition as often as I can make it happen.

When Gavin discovered her visits, he insisted we use the Bolts’ expense account to spoil the kids and the nurses. He’s one of the good ones.

All the Langfield men are.

And now I’m back to thinking about Brooks. So much for this distraction.

“She’s having a good day,” Maria says as she takes the donut boxes from Ava. Maria has been taking care of Josie since the day she was admitted.

When she was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma at the age of four, she was living with a foster family. The diagnosis is a serious one, though her chances of survival are high. From what I’ve been told, her foster parents had plans to adopt her. Yet after she arrived, they only visited once, then they vanished.

I can’t imagine the emotional damage that must have done to the sweet thing. To not only be poked and prodded and forced to take medication that makes her feel terrible, but to then have the only parents she’s ever known walk out? It’s inconceivable.

Ava met her shortly after she started treatment. She planned a charity event over Christmas for the Bolts and spent a good deal of time here then. She’s been coming back weekly for the ten months since. For the last few months, I’ve joined her as often as I can.

“Any word from the social worker?” Ava asks.

Maria shakes her head and frowns, her wrinkles deepening. “Not easy to place a sick child.”

Ava squeezes her fists at her sides and lets out a sharp breath through her nose. She loves coming to see Josie, but each visit breaks her a little more.

I hand off the hot chocolate to Lennox and wrap my arm around her shoulder, then I lead my friend in to see the little girl we’re all in love with.

“I need your help.”

Ava is always quiet after leaving Josie, so I suggested brunch and mimosas at Lucy’s. It’s a hipster spot in the Seaport district. It’s also near the outdoor shops at Faneuil Hall, which is where we’re headed next.

“Anything, babe,” Lennox says, bringing her mimosa to her lips.

Ava’s cheeks are almost as red as her hair from the champagne, and she finally seems to be perking up.

“Seb made a comment about me being a puck bunny yesterday.”

Ava and Lennox are the only people I confided in about my relationship with the asshole. Until yesterday, I’d never kept a secret from Lennox. I still don’t like the idea of not filling her in on the fake relationship business Brooks and I have going on, but I haven’t had time to discuss it with him.

Ava, on the other hand, discovered what was going on when she saw me leaving his apartment late one night and put two and two together. Thankfully she came to me first and promised to keep it to herself. Like me, she had no clue the bastard was married. When I found out, and after I ended things with him, I filled her in. Ava is as good a friend as they come, so I have no doubt that she can be discreet.

“Asshole,” Lennox mutters.

“Right. That’s not news.” I shrug and stab a strawberry with my fork. “But I want to show him that I don’t care. That his taunts don’t bother me and that I’m happy.”

“You are happy, right?” Ava asks, head tilted and scrutinizing me, like if she focuses hard enough, she’ll replace the answer in my expression.

My response is easy. “Brooks is the best man I’ve ever known. I don’t miss Seb at all.”

The worry lines on Ava’s face ease, and she smiles. “He’s a great guy.”

“He is,” Lennox agrees. “Back to the cheater. We need a little something to stick it to him.” She taps her red-soled foot on the ground and hums. Then her face lights up, and she throws her head back with a cackle. “I’ve got it. We need a Bolts’ beanie. Do you have one?”

Once we’ve finished brunch, I guide the girls toward the shops, and Lennox fills us in on her plan. And, oh my God, I knew I asked the right person. As always, Lennox’s brain is downright devious.