Pucked Under (Pucked #4.5)

by Helena Hunting

  “Only if you’re not lying.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “That’s fuckin’ awesome.” I slap him on the shoulder and almost knock the coffee cup out of his hand. “Shit. Sorry.”

  “You’re good. Hey, uh, I don’t know if this is weird or not, but do you think I can get an autograph? I don’t know if Lily told you, but I’m a huge fan.”

  “Really? Sure, I’m happy to sign something for you.”

  The awkwardness—or rather, my awkwardness—seems forgotten as he pulls out a puck, a scrapbook, and a silver Sharpie like he’s been preparing for this. “If you could sign the puck for me, and the scrapbook belongs to my girlfriend. Her name’s Leanne.”

  Lily comes out of the changing room as I pass the scrapbook and puck back to him. “I can get you tickets to a home game, if you want.”

  “For real? That’d be amazing.”

  I tell him I can hook him up for the first home game of the season. He freaks out, thanks me ten times, and then takes off.

  Lily waits until he’s out of hearing range. “That was really sweet.”

  “See? I can be nice. Ready for dinner?”

  Her stomach rumbles. “So ready.”

  We leave the arena and cross the street to my truck. Lily tells me funny stories about her little-kid lessons as we drive, but she looks confused when we pull up to the restaurant and the valet opens her door.

  “I’m not really dressed for this.”

  I didn’t think about the dress code when I made the reservations. I’m wearing jeans, and she’s wearing leggings. I’m in a T-shirt, and she has on a pretty, flowy top. “No one’s gonna care, but we can go somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable.”

  She kisses my cheek. “If you don’t care, I don’t care.”

  We end up at our favorite table in a private corner at the back of the restaurant, so what we’re wearing doesn’t matter anyway. I should tell Lily that my dad is staying longer than I’d hoped, but I don’t want to ruin a perfectly good evening, so I decide to wait.

  Only it doesn’t work, because as soon as the waiter’s done taking our drink and appetizer order, Lily asks about the trip to the hospital.

  “They ended up having to dig more glass out of his foot. He’s got something like twenty-five stitches.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “They gave him some pretty sweet painkillers. I’m sure he’s fine.”

  She covers my hand with hers. “Are you okay? You don’t seem okay.”

  “I have to take him back to the doctor in a couple of days. I feel like it’s better if I’m watching him, so I told him he could stay with us until then. But after that he’s going to a hotel. Are you okay with that?”

  “Are you?” Lily’s voice is soft, like the tips of her fingers tracing the petals on the back of my hand.

  “I’d rather he be gone, but if I don’t take care of this, he sure as hell isn’t going to, and then it’ll be an even bigger mess to clean up.”

  Lily’s bottom lip slides between her teeth as she regards me. “So you’re doing this out of obligation.”

  “I don’t want him showing up at my mother’s doorstep, looking to stay there.”

  “That’s happened before, I take it?”

  “Only once since I moved to Chicago, but I don’t want him to try it again.”

  “I’ll support whatever decision you make, and it’s fine if you want him to stay with us so you can monitor him. But my biggest concern is how this affects you.”

  “He’ll be gone in a couple of days, and then I won’t see him again for another six months—or longer if I’m lucky. I can manage. You’re sure you’re okay with it?”

  Lily nods and slips her fingers under mine. “Like I said, he’s your father. I get that you feel some responsibility for managing this situation, but you didn’t create it. The important question is, how long will it take for you to be fine once he’s gone?”

  It’s a good question. I don’t have an answer for it.

  “So I’m guessing we’re out for dinner because you’re avoiding him?” she asks after a moment.

  “And you were hungry.”

  “Does he know how hard this is on you?”

  I shrug. “Doubtful.”

  “Maybe he needs to be told.”

  “I’ve told him. He’s not often prepared to listen. I don’t think he can see far enough outside of himself to even care.”

  We don’t finish dinner until almost eleven. When we get home, my dad is passed out on the couch. But only two beer bottles sit on the coffee table. Lily heads for the bedroom, stuffed full of food and tired after a long day. I collect the empties and take them to recycle. There seem to be a lot more bottles in there than I remember from this morning. Before I move my dad to the spare room, I check the fridge. There are no beers, and I know for a fact there were half a dozen this morning. This means my dad didn’t listen; he just tried to fool me into believing he did.

  I leave him on the couch where he is. If I wake him up, I’ll fight with him, and I don’t have the energy for that.

  Lily’s already in bed when I get there. She’s naked. Willing to be my distraction. Because I need one. Because she loves me. Because I love her enough to let her.

  11

  ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

  LILY

  Randy stays glued to my hip the next morning while I’m in the house. He won’t leave me alone with his dad at all. It was easier for both of us that I left early this morning, and drove myself, to teach classes that run most of the day.

  Randy’s even more tense and agitated now. As much as I want to be the supportive, easy-going girlfriend, I’ll be glad when his dad is gone. His presence has totally overshadowed the amazing weekend at the cottage. That already feels like it was a lifetime ago.

  I’m distracted during my lessons, checking my phone every chance I get. Randy messages a couple of times to tell me everything is fine, but I’m still worried.

  When I return home, Randy’s ordered in dinner so I don’t have to cook, which I appreciate since I’ve been at work all day. I’m also not sure how I’d manage cooking for his dad. Seems like that could go all kinds of wrong. When the Chinese food is delivered, Randall, Sr., isn’t thrilled. He complains, yet he still manages to load up his plate.

  Conversation is forced and strained as we eat. I’m pretty sure Randy’s dad is drunk, which seems to be typical.

  “So, Lily—it’s Lily right?” At my nod he smiles. “Where’s your accent from? I can’t place it.”

  “I’m from outside of Toronto. It’s in Ontario, Canada.” No one actually knows where Guelph is, but most people have heard of Toronto.

  “Really? Canada, eh?”

  I smile, because it’s the polite thing to do when people make fun of how I speak. Under the table I’m flipping him off.

  “So you moved to Chicago for this guy?” He points his fork at Randy.

  “She moved because she got a great job,” Randy says irritably.

  “Teaching skating lessons, right? Can’t you do that in Canada? Lots of ice up there, right?”

  “I could and I did, but there are more opportunities here, and I have friends in the area.” This is starting to feel like an inquisition.

  “So what happens when Randy gets traded again? You gonna get your own place and stay put in Chicago?”

  Randy slaps the table. “Dad.”

  He lifts a shoulder. “What? Your contract is up with Chicago in two more years. I’m just asking what she’s gonna do.”

  “It’s up in three years, not two.”

  “Yeah, but the way you play sometimes… Anyway, whenever it happens, it’s not like you’re gonna marry her and take her with you—or is that part of your plan?”

  I can tell he’s pushing Randy’s buttons on purpose.

  “We haven’t really talked about that since it’s so far into the future,” I jump in, squeezing Randy�
��s leg under the table.

  “Who even knows if you’ll still be together by then, right?” His dad shoves a forkful of noodles into his mouth, thankfully shutting his asshole trap.

  When he asks me personal questions about my family, Randy redirects the topic to his own sister, who’s been in Australia for the past year. She went there for college to get away from their father, I’ve been told. I don’t know if that’s a perceived or actual reality. But based on the limited and supervised contact I’ve had with Randall, Sr., I wouldn’t be all that surprised if it was the truth.

  “So is Brynne planning to do something with this college diploma she’s getting, or is she gonna hook up with a surfer out there and play around for a couple more years?”

  And now I’m certain Randy wasn’t exaggerating about his sister’s exit from the continent.

  Randy grits his teeth and pushes his plate away. “I’m done with dinner.”

  “I’ll clean up.” I grab his plate and mine.

  “Why don’t you relax? You haven’t even had a shower or anything since you got home.” It’s Randy’s way of asking me to disappear without saying it outright. I don’t fight him, but I’m worried about what’s going to go down when I leave the room.

  I excuse myself to the bedroom, but keep an ear open in case a brawl breaks out in the living room. Randall, Sr., is constantly poking at Randy’s insecurities. This glimpse into his family history explains a lot, and it makes me even more appreciative that Randy’s allowed me into his life the way he has. I almost offered to stay with Sunny and Miller while his dad’s here, but then I’d be leaving Randy alone with his father. I think that’s far worse than me being a little uncomfortable for a couple of days.

  Randy peeks his head in our room half an hour later. I’m watching mindless TV on the laptop. He closes the door and flips the lock. His expression is hard to read as he climbs into bed. I hold my arms open for him.

  He settles his head on my chest and wraps an arm around my waist. “He’ll be gone tomorrow before you get home from work.”

  Tomorrow afternoon Randy has his first team meeting of the new season. I’ll get home before him. Next week training camp begins, and that means his free time is going to diminish significantly.

  I close the laptop and run my fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry this is so hard for you.”

  “It’s a mind fuck, you know? Like, I see how he is now, and I keep trying to figure out where it all went wrong. I don’t want his mistakes to be mine.”

  “You’re already so different than he is. I know we can’t predict the future, but we can always learn from the past and try not to fall into the same patterns, right?”

  He’s silent for a while, just breathing. “I see what you’re saying. But I still want him gone so I can have you to myself for the next few days. I hate that he’s cutting into my last week with you before training starts.”

  “Like you said, he’ll be gone tomorrow, and we’ll have this weekend. I only teach Saturday morning.”

  “I don’t want to share you this weekend, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you need distractions?”

  Randy shakes his head and winds his arms more tightly around me. “I just want this right now. Is that okay?”

  I know Randy’s stressed when he doesn’t want sex. My biggest worries now are how he’s going to deal with all these long-buried emotions and what things are going to be like after his dad finally leaves.

  ***

  I drive myself to the arena again the next morning since Randy’s taking his dad to follow up with the doctor and he has his team meeting in the afternoon. I’m on edge all day, mostly because I don’t hear from Randy other than a brief message to let me know the doctor’s appointment went fine and he’ll see me at home.

  I don’t know what kind of mood he’s going to be in tonight—the beginning of the season is always a transition, and this will be the first time I’ve been through this with him. It’s his second season with Chicago, but a lot happened last year, and their rough end to last season means the pressure’s on for a better start up.

  The house is quiet when I get home. The emptiness is actually welcoming. I head straight to the bedroom. I want to shower and change into something more…interesting. I open my underwear drawer and sift through my panties and bras. I pick out a few options and lay them on the bed. I’m not sure if Randy would prefer something sweet or more sex kitten.

  My phone buzzes with a message from him.

  Home in less than 20.

  I send him a picture of the scraps of lace laid out on the bed.

  Any preference?

  The humping dots appear right away.

  Do we still have the red ribbon?

  A shiver runs down my spine. Oh, God. I’m in for it tonight. I rummage through the drawer and find the roll of red satin. I send him a picture of it in response. His next message comes seconds later.

  Can’t fucking wait.

  “Having fun playing house?”

  I gasp and drop the ribbon on the floor. Spinning around, I find Randy’s dad leaning against the door jamb. He drops his gaze to the bed where all my pretty things are laid out. I hastily gather them and shove them back in the drawer.

  “I didn’t realize anyone was here. I thought you were staying at a hotel.” Randy said he was taking him as far away from us as possible.

  “I forgot a couple of things.” An unfriendly smile makes his cheek tic. “It’s a pretty sweet setup you have going on, isn’t it? Living here?”

  He sounds so much like Randy. They have the same deep voice, same broad shoulders, same eyes, same mannerisms, but that’s where it ends. This man is a version of Randy missing all the good pieces.

  I ignore his question. “Does Randy know you’re here?”

  He shifts so he takes up more of the doorway. I’m suddenly very nervous. He’s blocking my only way out of the room. Based on the loose way his eyes move over me, I have to assume he’s drunk.

  “Come on, sweetheart. You and I both know you’re in this for the free ride.”

  He’s been circling this conversation for the past couple of days, making little comments that seem innocuous but aren’t. I cross my arms over my chest, mostly so I don’t end up slapping him across his smug, jerk face.

  “You don’t know the first thing about my relationship with Randy.”

  “I don’t need to. I know my son. He’s got a short attention span when it comes to women. I would’ve thought he’d learned by now that this little thing he’s got going on isn’t gonna work out, but I can see why he’d want to give it a shot, at least for a while. He’ll figure out soon enough that you’re just using him like everyone else.”

  “I’m using him?” I’ve about had it with this man. “Jesus. Do you hear yourself talking? You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met. You show up on his doorstep whenever you damn well feel like it, make yourself at home in his house, eat his food, ask for handouts, and spend your time telling him how he’s going to fail.”

  He opens his mouth to cut me off, and I hold up a hand. “I’m not done yet, so hold your vitriol-fueled shot until I’m damn well finished. You know, most parents want better for their kids, but all you do is drag him down.” I motion to his disheveled appearance. “You make him believe that this is what he’s destined for. You’re everything he’s afraid to become, and you send him spinning every time you come back into his life. You don’t deserve his generosity or his loyalty. You need to be out before he gets home.”

  He laughs. “This isn’t your house. I don’t have to go anywhere.”

  “Newsflash, asshole, I live here, so I have a say in who gets to stay and who doesn’t. Randy needs to focus on getting ready for the season, and all you’re doing is sabotaging him by saying he’s not good enough.”

  “Everybody falls sooner or later; he needs to come to terms with that.”

  “You are such a self-absorbed bastard.”

 
His grin is malicious. “He’s exactly like me.”

  “He’s nothing like you.” Randy will be home soon. I don’t have much time to get his dad gone.

  He grabs my wrist as I stalk past him. “That boy is good at two things: hockey and fucking things up. As soon as he’s back on the road, he’s gonna have access to everything he’s been missing out on while he’s had you here keeping house for him.”

  “Just because you screwed up your life doesn’t mean he’s going to do the same.”

  The front door opens with a beep and closes with a slam. “Lily, baby? Where you hiding? I’m ready to unwrap you!”

  Randy rounds the corner as his dad drops my wrist.

  His gaze moves from me, clutching my wrist in the doorway of our bedroom, to his father. “What the hell is going on? Why are you here? I dropped you off at the hotel hours ago.”

  “Settle down, son. We were just talking.”

  Randy’s eyes are wild. He holds out his hand, and I go to him. “Why were you touching her?”

  As soon as I’m within reach, he wraps a protective arm around me. He gently pries my fingers from my wrist and checks the faint red marks from his dad’s tight hold. In one swift move, Randy shifts me behind him and closes the distance between him and his father.

  “You fucking bastard.”

  The sound of flesh hitting flesh has me between them before Randy can throw a second punch. I cover his shaking fist. “Baby, these hands are too important. Don’t let him ruin your season.”

  Randy takes a few deep breaths before he points a shaking finger at his father. “I hope you get that she’s the only reason you’re gonna walk away with teeth. Get the fuck out of this house. Now.”

  His father picks himself up off the floor. He wipes his lip with the sleeve of his shirt, smearing it with blood, and starts to speak.

  “Don’t.” I put a hand out to stop him. “You’ve said and done more than enough. Just get out.”

  He snickers. It’s a wet sound. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”

  “You bet your ass I am.”