Page 20 of Pucking Forbidden

“We’ll make arrangements,” he continues. “You won’t be living on campus. I’ll have an apartment set up for you. Somewhere appropriate. You’ll commute, focus on your studies, and get your grades back where they need to be.”

I grit my teeth, but don’t argue. Baby steps. First, Denver. Once I’m closer, maybe I can keep trying to convince him that law school isn’t for me. This is a win, and I’m not going to screw it up by running my mouth.

“Okay,” I agree.

“Good,” he says. “I’ll start making calls.”

He hangs up. No goodbye again, but it doesn’t bother me as much this time. I just sit there for a second in shocked silence.

Denver.

I’m going back to Denver.

My chest tightens, but this time it’s not dread. It’s excitement. I’ll be close to Grandpa again. Close to the girls.

Close to Julian.

I won’t be alone, and even if I’m still stuck doing what Dad wants, I’ll be close to home.

A small, disbelieving laugh slips out of me as I fall back onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

I’m going back. A grin spreads across my face before I can stop it.

I can’t wait to surprise everyone in Denver…and maybe I’ll finally make the time to skate again.

CHAPTER SEVEN: SURPRISE

JULIAN

Two weeks after I visit Chicago, I wake up before my alarm, eyes snapping open into the dark as if something pulled me out of sleep.

I stare at the ceiling for a second, disoriented, then reach for my phone on instinct.

It’s 4:47 AM.

Fuck. I let out a long groan. Closing my eyes, I will myself to go back to sleep, but my mind is immediately filled with thoughts of the season starting, my practice schedule, Chicago, and Mrs. Clay. We’ve talked since my visit. I keep asking her if she’s okay. She just sounds tired to me. She insists she’s fine, but I don’t believe her. I just can’t shake the feeling that she’s not as healthy as she wants me to believe.

Well, I don’t know what it was that woke me up, but as I lay in bed with my racing thoughts, I quickly realize I’m not getting back to sleep.

God damn it.

Sitting up, I swipe my phone’s screen and decide to give Mrs. Clay a call. I know she’ll be awake by now. She’s such a morning person; I can’t help but want to check on her. I hesitate for half a second, wondering if maybe I’m being paranoid.

I shake the thought away and hit the call button.

It rings twice before she answers, her voice soft and a little scratchy. She’s probably just sitting down to her morning cup of coffee.

“Julian? You okay? You know what time it is?”

“Yeah,” I murmur, sitting up and dragging a hand over my face. “Didn’t wake you, did I?”

“I’m up,” she says, but it sounds like she just got there. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I murmur. “Just checking in.”

“Mmhmm,” she hums. “You don’t call before six in the morning for nothing. And aren’t you an hour earlier, too? Julian…”

“Couldn’t sleep.”