Page 46 of Puck Me Back to Life

“Freshman year of college.”

“Why didn't you tell me that when I gave it to you?”

Hayes shrugs. “I wanted to read it again.”

“Why?”

“It's different.”

“How?”

He folds the corner of the page slightly before looking over. “When I was eighteen, I thought it was mostly about sacrifice.”

I immediately regret asking.

The look he gives me says he knows exactly what I'm thinking. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You asked.”

“I made a mistake.”

That earns an actual laugh, quiet but real, and I feel embarrassingly satisfied at having caused it.

“Now I'm reading it again because I want to see if I notice something different.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

Hayes shakes his head. “I think that's kind of the point of books.”

“I knew there was a reason I don't read.”

“You don't read at all?”

“I read hockey articles.”

“That doesn't count.”

“It absolutely counts.”

“No.”

“You're very judgmental for someone dressed as a fluffy sheep.”

His head snaps up.

I grin.

The poor guy looks personally offended. “What is your beef with my jacket? You have been staring at it since I came downstairs.”

“Because it's ridiculous.”

He pouts. “It's comfortable.”

“It's ridiculous.”

“It's both.”