Page 93 of Lucky Puck

But neither of us is okay with staying together and risking the heartbreak of Cupid’s arrow. For my part, I’m afraid continuing would shatter me into pieces in the end because I’ve never felt this way about a man before.

Still, as I gather my things to sleep in the study, I’m uneasy about this road trip. He won’t be back until the morning of the fashion show, so I won’t see him again until the show itself.

There’s so much at stake. My family and his will be there. Nora Shade will be there.

And the press will be there in full force along with an army of social media influencers.

Exactly the audience we’ll need for our fake fight.

What’s one more charade?

I shouldn’t be so nervous.

Chapter Thirty-One

BRODY

It’s easy to steal from the condo unnoticed this morning, with Bianca sleeping in the den. Stopping in front of her closed door, I pause, gripping my luggage handle tightly so I don’t raise my hand to knock, don’t push the door open and go to her, kiss her good-bye while she sleeps.

A long breath shudders from me, and I force myself to move on. I should be concentrating on hockey, not thinking about how soft Brooks’ skin is, how warm and pliable she is in the mornings.

Fuck.

I stop in the kitchen and fill my Whalers to-go cup with coffee, then empty the rest into the carafe for her. I could have made a single cup, or picked up a coffee on the way to the arena, or waited until I got there for coffee. But I thought of her, wanted to make coffee for her.

Shaking my head, I grab my coat, push through the door, and take the elevator down to the garage.

I need to stop thinking of her, considering her, wanting her.

We have a two-game road trip that I need to concentrate on. Starting now.

Most of the guys are animated, even at seven a.m., as we climb the boarding stairs to the team’s private jet. A cold breeze picks up, and I barely feel it though I’m carrying my coat instead of wearing it.

“What are you made of, Holden? Ice?” Windy nudges me from behind. “You don’t feel the chill in the air because you’re colder than⁠—”

“Shut up, Windy,” I snap at him instead of ignoring him or laughing like I normally would.

Sabien follows me and takes the seat next to me where Ax usually sits.

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“I figured you could use someone to talk to—someone who knows what’s what.”

“You mean someone who might be partly responsible for my current predicament?”

He surprises me when he nods. I can’t actually blame this fake marriage fiasco on him even if he did start the ball rolling. I could have stopped it all at any time since day one.

Maybe it’s time I looked at the reason why I didn’t.

“This,” I raise my left hand and finger the ring, “is not on you. I take full responsibility.”

“What about Brooks? How much responsibility do you put on her?” His words are more curious than accusing, and I give him a sideways glance, then take the last gulp of my coffee.

“I’ll need to drink something stronger than coffee to answer that question.”

He snorts. “Okay. We’re rooming together, so we can have that discussion after the game tonight.”

I don’t bother responding, closing my eyes instead and envisioning myself skating on the Washington Capitals’ rink, outracing their team, outdoing them on the face-offs, and winning.