Page 3 of Pucking Forbidden

“Hadley, hold on! Don’t hang…”

I end the call before she can finish and don’t answer when she immediately tries to call back. Guilt twists in my stomach, but I can't bring myself to slide the bar to answer. Lainey loves me, which means she would ask all the right questions, dig into every painful detail, and then try to fix it. Right now, the raw shock of my dad's words is still ringing too loudly in my ears. I feel hollowed out, my thoughts spinning in a chaotic, suffocating blur.

Gray light spills in through the window, washing over everything and making the room feel smaller somehow. Rain taps against the glass in a steady rhythm. I let out a slow breath, my shoulders sinking. It’s been raining a lot the last few weeks, which isn’t typical for August in London. It makes everything feel excessively dreary.

I wish I were home…back in the States.

Would that really help, though? I’d still be studying law. Now that I’m starting my junior year, I have to take the specialized courses and focus on my major, whether I like it or not.

And I don’t like it…but there’s not much I can do about it.

My depressing thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of a new text. I grin at the name of the sender.

Julian Wilder.

Since Rylee’s wedding, we’ve fallen into this kind of…rhythm. Nothing intense or complicated. Just quick check-ins, random conversations, little updates about the Night Hawks, their families, and whatever chaos they’ve gotten into that week.

We’re friends. Like, real, care-about-each-other's-lives friends. It doesn’t matter that he’s seven years older than me, or that we’re currently on completely different continents. We’ve stayed in touch, and it’s been easy.

My heart races as I open his message. He’s sent me a gorgeous picture of the Rocky Mountains in the distance with a cover of fluffy clouds hovering over the peak.

Julian: Tried a new route for my run and don’t hate the view.

I lean back against my pillows, staring at the ceiling for a second, my thumbs hovering over my phone screen as I decide how honest I want to be. On the one hand, I know I can tell Julian just about anything, but on the other hand, I don’t want him to worry about me or to think I’m whiny or entitled.

I can’t help but think of the first time we met. Well, I don’t know if it could really be called a meeting, given how chaotic things were. I’d gone to Denver to visit my grandpa, who coaches the Night Hawks. He invited me to go to a game. He dropped me off in a VIP box like he was taking a little kid to daycare, but luckily, the box was filled with some of the greatest people on the whole freaking planet. That’s the day I first met Stacey, Skyler, Rylee, and Grace. They were friendly and accepted me right away…and then a very pregnant Stacey went into labor. I ended up helping deliver her baby right there in the box. Thankfully, I had a little experience thanks to occasionally helping my mom, who’s a traveling midwife. I can’t even describe the feeling I had when I held Henry after helping Stacey deliver him. He was so tiny and cute, and I had a hand in bringing him into the world.

It’s hard not to be friends with people after going through something like that all together. Stacey and I have gotten especially close. She sends me pictures of Henry and we video chat multiple times a week.

Julian showed up then, too, and he was…impressive. Easily the tallest man I’d ever seen, with broad shoulders and a wild mane of dark brown hair. His long beard made him look like a rugged lumberjack, even in his hockey gear. I totally understand why he’s a Right Wing. If I had to go head-to-head against the boards with a giant like him, I’d probably just curl up into a little ball and cry. I don’t remember saying much of anything to him…I just kind of stared at him, dumbstruck.

It wasn’t until Rylee’s wedding that we actually met. As in, we spoke to each other. Got to know each other a bit. I’d felt a little out of place that weekend, since I didn’t know anyone but the group of girls, and they were all bridesmaids. Julian stepped in and made sure I didn’t feel weird or alone. We spent pretty much the whole reception together.

He’s nice. Easy to talk to.

And hot as hell.

My cheeks immediately heat up.

Ahhh, no! What am I doing, thinking like that? Yes, he’s objectively gorgeous in that tough, rough-around-the-edges kind of way, but I can’t let myself get too caught up in thoughts like that. He’s a friend—a good friend—and he’s not attracted to me, so letting myself wonder what he looks like shirtless, or remembering how good his big hands felt on me when we danced at the wedding, will only get me in trouble. I will not risk losing myself in some unattainable fantasy and ruining this.

Shaking my treacherous thoughts away, I focus back on his text.

Hadley: Oooh, so pretty! Ugh, I miss the mountains.

Julian: There are mountains in England.

Hadley: Yeah, but they’re in the north. I can’t just walk outside and see them as you can.

Julian: That’s too bad. Still, from the pics you’ve sent me, there’s plenty else to see in London.

True. London is really an incredible city, and if I were here under different circumstances, I’d probably be having the time of my life.

I’m not here because I want to be. With a sigh, I decide to be honest.

Hadley: Yeah, London’s great, but I hate school.

A few moments pass as I wait for his response. I thought maybe admitting how unhappy I am would make me feel better, but I think I feel worse. Now I’m worried he’s going to tell me to keep my chin up, or some bullshit like that. Those types of empty statements people always say when someone’s been just a little more honest than, “I’m fine.”