Page 60 of Pucking Only

I sit there, stunned, as all these memories flood back — growing up together, the banter, the way she always knows how to get a rise out of me. Then there’s the way I feel when she’s around, the way my pulse races and my thoughts get tangled up in her. It’s not just lust; it’s more than that. It’s like she’s the only person who can keep up with me. The only one who can really make me feel alive.

Then reality crashes down on me like a ton of bricks. Skyler’s leaving. She’s got her own life, her own plans, and they don’t include staying in Denver. What the hell am I supposed to do about that? Ask her to stay? Beg her to give us a shot when I’m not even sure where I stand?

“She’s leaving,” I say, more to myself than to Jensen. “What does any of this matter?”

Jensen shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. “That’s up to you,man. But if you really think there’s something there, you owe it to yourself to find out. Even if it’s just telling her how you feel before she goes.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the back of my neck before taking a big gulp of my beer. The thought of losing her without even trying to see where this could go makes my chest ache. However, the idea of laying my feelings out there, of risking rejection or complicating things between us, terrifies me.

Shaking my head, I take another drink.

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen gives me a look that’s half-sympathy, half-exasperation. “You’ll never know unless you ask. Besides, from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s just as messed up over you as you are over her. You’re both just too damn stubborn to admit it.”

I stare at my beer, the condensation dripping down the glass, my mind a jumbled mess. What the hell do I do now? Do I risk everything and put my heart on the line? Or do I let her go because it’s easier than facing the possibility of rejection?

Am I even ready for a relationship in the first place? If I confess my feelings to Skyler, she deserves nothing less than total dedication and commitment. I’m not sure that’s something I can actually give her.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” I admit, my voice raw. “I don’t know if I can handle it if she doesn’t feel the same way.”

Jensen leans forward, his expression serious and his brow furrowed. “You’ve faced tougher opponents on the ice, man. This is just another challenge, but if you don’t at least try, you’re going to spend the rest of your life wondering ‘what if.’ That’s not the Carson I know. The Carson I know fights forwhat he wants. Besides, the issue isn’t that she doesn’t feel the same. It’s obvious she does.”

Frowning, I murmur, “It is?”

I’ve barely dared to hope that she felt anything close to what I’ve been feeling, but if Jensen thinks it’s obvious, maybe… maybe there’s a chance. The hope that unfurls within me takes me by surprise. I’ve never felt that way, wondering if a girl wants to be with me. At any hint of a potential relationship, my instincts would scream for me to run the other way. Right now, they’re screaming for me to run straight toward Skyler.

For the first time ever, I want to plunge headfirst into a future with someone. With Skyler.

When I think about my life going forward, I can’t see it without her in it.

Jensen nods. “It is, but the question is if she’ll be willing to acknowledge her feelings for you or not. That’s going to be the risk.”

His words hit me hard, and I know he’s right. I’ve never backed down from a challenge before, and I’m not about to start now. If there’s even a chance that Skyler feels the same way, that there could be something real between us, I have to find out. I have to at least try.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: LAST NIGHT

SKYLER

It’smy last day in Denver, and the weight of it is pressing down on me as I sit next to Grace in the stands of the hockey rink, watching the Night Hawks practice. The familiar sounds of skates slicing across the ice and the thud of the puck hitting sticks echo through the arena. It’s a bittersweet feeling being here, knowing I’ll be gone tomorrow and won’t be able to experience this anymore.

"I’m really going to miss this," I say quietly, glancing over at Grace. She’s sitting back, relaxed, her attention half on the players and half on me. "And I’m going to miss hanging out with you, and with the guys."

Grace raising an eyebrow. "You’re not leaving forever, you know. You’ll come to visit. You have to! But first, you’ve got to go back to show off your game and show those buttholes you work with just how talented you are."

I smile at that. "Yeah, I do."

I’ve spent so much time perfecting that thing, tweaking every little detail, making sure it’s the best it can be. It’s been a crazy, exhausting process. When I think about what I’ve accomplished, I feel a swell of pride.

"I think it’s finally ready," I say, more to myself than to Grace. "I’ve made all the changes my boss wanted, but I was careful not to get rid of my personal touches either."

Grace turns to face me fully, her expression serious now.

"Good," she says firmly. "Because I meant what I said before. No job is worth losing your happiness or self-worth over. You can do amazing things without sacrificing who you are in the process."

Her words hit me harder than I expect, and I nod slowly, taking them in. Grace has always had this way of cutting through all the noise, of reminding me what’s really important.

"I’m going to miss you like hell," I say.