Page 30 of Pucking Only

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Page 30 of Pucking Only

Jensen releases a long sigh. “All right, well, if that’s the story you want to stick with, not much I can say to argue with you.” He pats me on the shoulder as he moves past me. “I’ll let you eat and rest. Try not to get into any more trouble today, okay? Stay away from the booze.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I huff. I’m pretty certain I’m never going to drink again.

Once Jensen leaves, I gather up the rest of the food he brought me and make my way into the living room and my sweet, sweet couch. I sink down on the cushions and grab my remote. Time to put on some bad TV and veg for the rest of the day.

Just as I settle on some Sylvester Stallone movie, my phone starts to buzz. I’m tempted to ignore it. When I pick it up and see that it’s my mom, I know I can’t do that. Mom always checks in around game days to see how I’m doing. She hates flying, so she and dad aren’t often able to attend games in person. They watch every one of my games on TV. She feels so bad about not being there that she goes above and beyond in other ways to make up for it...not that she needs to. I know my parents love and support me. I’ve never doubted that in my entire life.

Taking a deep breath, I answer the phone and try my best not to sound as miserable as I feel.

“Hey, Mom,” I say.

“Hello, sweetie!” my mom replies. Her voice is as bright and cheerful as always. “How are you? I feel like it’s been ages since I talked to you.”

I chuckle. “Mom, we talked on the phone two days ago.”

“Ages!” she insists, then lets out a small laugh. “How are things going? Practices are good I hope?”

“Yeah,” I assure her. “Practices are good. Everything’s good, Mom. I don’t have anything to complain about.”

Except for my soul-crushing hangover and a sexy little computer nerd driving me crazy. Since she’s arrived, anytime I looked up during a practice and spotted her in the stands, her laptop perched on her knees and fingers flying over the keyboard, I felt an instant surge of lust that I’ve never experienced before. That feeling was usually followed quickly by frustration because I couldn’t understand why I kept waiting for her to look up and give me that level of undivided attention.

“That’s good,” Mom says. “Oh, I miss you and your sister so much. It’s been too long since you both have been home.”

I smile softly, feeling somewhat better at the sound of hervoice. No matter how old I get, I always feel more at ease and relaxed when I talk to my mom.

“I miss you too,” I tell her. “How’s dad?”

“Your father has a brand new hobby,” Mom answers. Her tone is laced with exasperation and adoration all at once. “He’s decided he’s going to start smoking meat. The neighbors got a smoker a few months back, and so of course, he had to get one as well. But not just any smoker…the Ferrari of smokers, or something like that.”

I chuckle. “Well, you might get some good hams out of the deal.”

She laughs. “You’re dad is all the ham I need.”

Whenever my mom talks about my dad, her love for him is obvious in her voice, and vice versa. My dad is obsessed with her. She is the center of his world. I’ve honestly never met a couple more devoted and in love with each other than my parents, especially after thirty years of marriage.

My parents have one of those rare relationships where their passion for each other doesn’t dull…it only grows. Growing up, even if they had arguments, I never doubted how much they loved each other. It’s something I’ve always admired, but have never experienced or think I ever will. That kind of love is one in a million, and I don’t think I can bring myself to settle for anything less.

That likely means I’ll just stay single. I’m okay with that. Mom and Dad simply set the bar too high.

“Sweetheart, the main reason I called was to let you know that your father and I are throwing an anniversary party for ourselves next month,” she says, pulling me out of my wandering thoughts. “I just wanted to make sure you can come if we have it on the day of our actual anniversary. I know your schedule is packed between practice and games, but…”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” I assure her with a grin. “I’ll be there.I was already planning on heading home that weekend anyway because I was going to treat you guys to dinner. Since you’re throwing a party, all the better.”

“That’s so thoughtful of you!” Mom exclaims. “You’re such a good boy, and I’m thrilled you’ll be able to come. I’m going to talk to your sister later and let her know. Also Skyler! She’s there in Denver right now, isn’t she?”

My stomach cramps and I cough as I choke on a gulp of air.

“Uh…yeah,” I stammer. “She is.”

“Great! I want to invite her too. Her dad will be there. He’s flying in from Alaska for the week! I’ll have to have Grace let her know the details!”

Of course she would want Skyler to be there. My parents adore her. They always have. She was at our house growing up almost as often as she was at her own.

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to be there,” I tell Mom. “She loves you guys.”

“And we love her,” Mom says.

And that just makes me feel even worse.




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