Page 32 of Pucking Only
Grace nods. “She’s loving the architecture firm she’s working for. She’s been hitting the ground running, designing digital blueprints for them and she’s loving it. She’s hoping she’ll get to spearhead her own project by this coming summer.”
Damn, my friends are impressive. Not that I’m surprised, Rylee and Sutton always gave off the facade of being airheads, but in reality, they’re both crazy smart and creative. I feel a stab of guilt that I haven’t done a better job of keeping in touch with them. I hadn’t thought about it too much before, but I’ve really been dedicating a significant chunk of my life and time to my job.
It will all be worth it in the end. It has to be.
“Oh, random! Do you remember Stacey Dixon from high school?” Grace suddenly asks.
I frown and nod. “Yeah, of course I do. She transferred or something in the middle of senior year, didn’t she?”
“Yep,” Grace says. Something flashes across her expression. It’s there and gone so fast, I can’t be certain, but it almost seemed like…anger? “She reached out to me the other day after noticing on my socials that I now live in Colorado. She’s actually been going to school in Denver and wants to reconnect!”
“That’s great,” I say, but I’m a little confused. Grace and Stacey were close when we were all in school together (not as close as Grace and me, of course), but after Stacey left, I don’t remember Grace ever talking about her again. It seems kind of random that the two would hang out now… whatever… it’s not really my business. “I’m glad she felt she could reach out.”
Grace nods and then appears thoughtful for several moments before clearing her throat and smiling back up at me.
“So, tell me,” Grace says, relaxing back against the sofa cushions. “How are things going with the game? Are you feeling good about where you’re at with it?”
“Things are actually great,” I tell her. “I’ve gotten a ton of ideas already that I’m incorporating into the game’s script and am nailing down my plans for a few special characters and their playing styles. I’ve been using learning algorithms and AI to analyze some video I’ve taken of the Night Hawks while they're on the ice. It’s been able to help make the mechanics and physics of these players more realistic.”
“I don’t know what any of that means,” Grace says with a grin. “But you sound like such a boss when you explain your work. I know you were kind of iffy about it since sports games aren’t really your thing, but you’re so damn smart and creative. I had every confidence you’d find your footing.”
I chuckle and then let out a long sigh. “Yeah, now if only my boss would stop checking in on me all the fucking time. It’s like he doesn’t trust that I can actually pull this off. In fact, hesent me an email earlier all but telling me to throw in the towel so he could give more support to Samuel! And don’t even get me started on that weasel! There’s an email from him waiting in my inbox that I’m sure is just him taunting me about how I’m not as far along as he is in the design and development process.”
Grace rolls her eyes, all-too-familiar with my beef with Samuel.
“You should just block Samuel,” she states. “He’s distracting you from your work, so you can always use that excuse. As for your boss, tell him you're disconnecting from work while you focus on the game. He can’t get mad at you for that.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure he’ll find a way,” I grumble before taking a long drink of wine. “It seems like, no matter how hard I try or how good I am, there’s always one more obstacle in my path. One more bump in the road I have to step over. It’s exhausting.”
“I still don't understand why you keep putting up with him? I get that he's worked there longer than you, but seriously Skyler, you are way more talented. No one deserves to be treated that way, and especially not my best friend. It makes me so mad for you,” Grace growls, her eyes flashing with menace.
I reach over and pat her hand. “I know, I know, and I appreciate you holding back your mama bear instincts and not ripping their sorry asses to shreds. It’s all going to be okay, I promise.”
She blows out a long breath. “If you’re sure, I’ll hold back my thirst for blood.”
“I really appreciate it.”
That earns me a grin.
“All right,” she sighs, leaning her elbow on the back of thecouch and propping her head up in her hand as she looks at me. “Let’s focus on the positives. You’re feeling good about your plans for the game and have a better understanding of hockey.”
I nod, grinning eagerly and pulling my knees up under me as I look back at her. “Yes! And, oh my gosh, Zander has been such a huge help. I can’t believe I found a guy who’s good at hockey and thinks like a programmer.”
Grace regards me for a minute with an arched brow and a thoughtful expression. “What, uh, is going on between you guys exactly? You have been spending quite a bit of time with him since you two met.”
I blink, a little caught off guard by the question. I suppose I shouldn’t be. Grace is right, after all. I have been spending a lot of time with Zander. He’s smart and sweet and, like I said, ridiculously good-looking. Still, when I think of him, I don’t feel the heat I would expect to feel around such a near perfect man. There’s warmth, but it’s the same kind of warmth I feel when I’m around Grace - I’m comfortable. I feel safe.
But I don’t feel…hot.
There’s no tingle downstairs. No butterflies in my stomach. I can appreciate how attractive he is and fantasize about him throwing me around in the bedroom, but those fantasies are like when I imagine Chris Hemsworth tossing me around like I’m Mjolnir, or Henry Cavill throwing me against the wall like I’m Batman.
It’s pure imagination. There’s no real desire within me to make those thoughts a reality.
That realization is rather disappointing.
“Well,” I begin, choosing my words carefully. “Zander’s great. More than great. He’s fun to talk to and we’ve got quite a bit in common. I’d be lying if I say I haven’t flirted with him a bit, but…”
“But?” Grace prompts when I go silent.