Pucked Over (Pucked #3)

“I like my job here.” Though I don’t love it like I used to. Lately I like it less and less.

Sunny takes a lock of hair and rubs the end of it over her lips. It’s something she’s always done when she’s thinking, or nervous. She did it a lot at the beginning of her relationship with Miller. I still feel bad about the way I judged him before I knew him. He really is so, so good to her.

“I’m going to say something, and I don’t want you to get mad at me for it, okay?”

I laugh. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you love working with those girls, but Lily, I don’t know if it’s the best thing for you. Sometimes I think it makes you as sad as it does happy. It’s such a reminder of what you missed out on.”

She’s right. Teaching skating in the same arena where I used to prepare for competitions hurts sometimes. Maybe it’s because I get further and further away from my dream while these girls get closer. “It’s a big decision.”

“I know, but sometimes change is good. I love your mom, and she loves you—despite the things she said—but it’s kinda like me and my mom, you know?”

I nod. I do know. Daisy is loads of fun to be around, but she’s got archaic ideas about how relationships work. It never occurred to her that Sunny would want a career and all the other things women in the twenty-first century strive for.

“At the very least, you should take some time off work and come with me to Chicago over the holidays. See if you like it.”

“I can’t do that.” It’s an automatic response.

“Why not? You’re allowed to take a holiday, Lily, and frankly, you need one. You’ve been working two jobs for the past three years, and until April you were in school full-time as well. You need a break. Miller’s off from the twenty-third to the twenty-eighth. Your girls have a break from skating then anyway, right?”

There’s always a two-week break between sessions this time of year. “Yeah. I still have the coffee shop, though.”

“There’s no reason for them not to give you time off, and if they won’t, you should quit. You shouldn’t be killing yourself over the measly twelve dollars an hour they’re paying you.”

She’s right. Again. It’s just that I’ve worked there for a long time, and it’s familiar. But I guess that’s the crux of the problem. It’s how I’ve always done things. I stayed with Benji because he was familiar and I knew what to expect, even if it wasn’t good. I keep living in the apartment with my mom partly because I feel like she needs the help financially, and maybe emotionally, but also because it’s what I’m used to, and the same with working at the arena and the coffee shop.

I’m boring and predictable. Except where Randy’s concerned. With him I do things I never thought I would in a million years. Like let him eat me out against a wall in a public bathroom—with a locked door, but still. Or take Uber all the way to a hotel in Toronto so we could get our freak on for a few hours.

“Plus Randy’ll be around.”

“He rode all the way to Guelph with me this morning.”

“What? But didn’t they fly out today?”

“It was early. He wanted to come for the ride, and then he went back to the hotel.”

“No way! He is so into you.” Sunny sits up and spills her wine all over herself and the comforter.

“He’s so into sex with me, you mean.” I won’t admit out loud that I’m digging him more than I should. Especially if I’m considering moving to Chicago.

Sunny gives me a look. “You are so coming to Chicago with me. Alex says the house will be ready by then, and we’re doing all the celebration stuff at his place, and you need time away from everything. So you’re coming. It’s decided. I’m deciding.”

“Just like that. You’re the boss of me, eh?”

“Yup. That’s right.” She puffs out her chest. “See how assertive I can be?”

I toss a pillow, and she deflects it.

There’s a knock at the door. Andy, her Great Dane, jumps up from his spot on the floor. Titan, her little Papillon, pricks up an ear but doesn’t move otherwise.

“Come in,” Sunny calls.

Daisy peeks her head in. Well, it’s more like just her face because her hair can’t fit through the crack. “Just checking to see how you girls are doing.” She eyes the bottle of wine. “Oh. Looks like you’re doing just fine.” She holds out a bag of sweet potato chips. “You could probably use these if you’re planning to finish that off.”

Daisy invites herself into Sunny’s room to hang out with us. Neither of us minds. Daisy’s a great mom, even if she’s a little backward. Her dating stories about Robbie are hysterical. Plus, staring at her hair is always fascinating.

It’s well past midnight before I stumble down the hall to the spare room. I could sleep with Sunny, but sometimes she tries to spoon. I also want to check my messages. Not that I expect to have one from Randy. He’s unpredictable with his communication.

I pull the covers back and slip under them. My stomach does a stupid little flip-flop over the three messages from him.



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