Puck and Prejudice

Chapter Thirty-One

I love you.

Lizzy, I love you.

As long as I live... I’m going to love you and only you.

I love you so much that I’ve tried to invent new ways to say it, but always circle back to those three perfect words.

Tuck opened his eyes to find his teammate Knight staring at him. Seven weeks had passed since Tuck had regained consciousness

in that English hospital bed, and tonight marked his second game with the Regals since receiving medical clearance.

Tuck thrust out the thermos he’d been cradling. “Want some oolong? It’s not souchong, unfortunately, that’s hard to find these

days. Go on, I put some lemon in it, and lots of sugar. No milk, of course, never milk with lemon. It’s good, try some.”

Knight blinked. “Uh, thanks, but I’m good, man.”

“What are you and Wilson getting up to later?” Tuck asked, taking a sip of the tea.

Knight frowned. “Who?”

Tuck gestured at Knight’s thick scruff. “You look like Tom Hanks in Castaway with that lucky beard. I gotta get you a volleyball to be your BFF.”

“Oh. Ha. Wilson. Yeah.” Knight chuckled, turning away with a half-relieved expression, as if thinking, Everything’s fine, Taylor’s a weirdo as per usual .

Tuck took another swig of tea, swishing the hot, sweet water around in his mouth. How long had he been zoned out in his stall

inside the Regals’ locker room, not focusing on the upcoming game against the Maple Leafs? His thoughts all circled back to

Lizzy. Her presence loomed in his mind, a persistent echo of the words he wished he’d found the guts to say before leaving—words

that now haunted him with regret.

Regret was a new feeling. He had always charged ahead to achieve his goals, and perhaps it had made him cocky. Now he found

himself carrying his wedding ring on a gold chain around his neck. The team locker room was no place for distraction. It was

so steeped in superstition that the Regals logo adorned the Jumbotron on the ceiling, ensuring no one would ever make the

mistake of stepping on it. That crown symbolized the team, the fans, and their collective pride. Painted on the wall opposite

were the words “I see no virtue where I smell no sweat.” Tuck grimaced. If that were true, his teammates would be candidates

for sainthood, because even with state-of-the-art ventilation, the place got fragrant.

He cranked up the volume on the audiobook playing through his AirPods. The female narrator’s voice grew louder: “There is

a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt

to intimidate me.”

He’d been immersing himself in Jane’s books since returning. It turned out, not only was she funny as hell, but she’d taken

his suggestion to heart and really named her book Pride and Prejudice .

Pretty cool.

The press had caught wind of Tuck and his newfound Regency obsession, and in an interview yesterday he’d been told, “Didn’t know hockey players even read.”

To which he’d shot back, “I don’t. I listen.” Audiobooks were his favorite.

When Tuck first woke up in the hospital, Nora informed him that it was the end of January. This made sense to Tuck, as he

recalled that when he had first gone through the cow pond in December, he had ended up in Lizzy’s time during the summer month

of June. Therefore, it was logical that leaving in Lizzy’s time in August would have thrust him forward another six months.

However, Tuck was less interested in the confusing-ass intricacies of time travel. His thoughts were fixed on Lizzy and how

much he missed her.

And if his sister thought he was crazy, she didn’t let on.

“Your story is too detailed,” she had kept repeating. “And then there’s the ring. I can’t quite wrap my head around it, but

strangely, I believe you. It all seems too real.” And with that, she’d launched into a barrage of questions... most of

them about Jane Austen.

The night before he flew back to the States, she burst into his room, waving her phone. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Tuck. Look.

You gotta see this.” He had taken the phone, and his insides froze as he read the headline: “Search Given Up for Missing Scholar.”

The online news article, dated a few years back, detailed the disappearance of UC Berkeley professor of Celtic history, Ezekiel

Fairweather, who had vanished during a walk in Oxfordshire. He hadn’t been seen since. Foul play seemed unlikely, and there

were no clues in the case.

“Is that him?” Nora had pointed at the photo. “The time traveler you met?”

“He didn’t have that goatee and his hair was shorter, but yeah. That’s the same guy. No doubt.”

“Ready for tonight?” Someone squeezed his shoulder, snapping him back to the now. It was Coach. “Feeling good, T?”

Tuck popped out his AirPods and paused the book. “I’m great. Fired up. My little sister is here tonight. She flew in today,

and hasn’t seen me play since before Covid.”

Coach gave him a thumbs-up. “I don’t know how you do it. Cancer. Car accident. Coma. But I saw you in practice this morning

and you have no quit.”

“Never have.” Tuck’s shrug was one-shouldered. “Stop pucks and ask questions later.”

This was true. Technically. He just wasn’t going to share what kind of questions kept him tossing and turning all night—big

ones about life, the universe, and love.

Tonight was a home game. As he skated out, he couldn’t help but grin—pumping his arms to increase the crowd’s roar. Damn,

it felt good to be back in the arena, gazing up at a sea of white-and-navy fans. He nodded to the mascot, hyping up the crowd

in the stands—officially called Highness, but everyone in Austin knew him as the Puck King, with the rowdiest fans often adding

a lewd gesture. Tuck turned around, scanning for where Nora should be—he’d given her two ringside tickets behind the net,

one for her and the other for the friend she was bringing along.

After about thirty seconds, he spotted her—and it was as if the ice melted beneath his skates. Lizzy stood next to Nora, wearing

his jersey and shaking a giant foam hand giving a number one sign. For once in his life, he didn’t trust his eyes. He closed

them tight and counted to five. She was still there. His heart thundered so loudly he couldn’t hear the crowd’s roar or the

pulsing music.

How? What?

Lizzy threw her arms over her head, waving first wildly and then frantically.

He glanced over his shoulder. Fuck. Face-off. The game had started.

He’d never played for anyone else before. Winning for himself always seemed to make everyone else happy enough. But today?

He wanted to impress a girl. He was going to put up a brick wall in front of the net. And he did.

When they finished the game 3–0, Toronto going home empty-handed, he threw himself at the boards, tearing off his helmet.

Lizzy stood on the other side of the tempered glass, so close he could drown in her baby blues, yet he couldn’t get his hands

on her. He wasn’t with her. He wasn’t holding her. He sure as hell wasn’t kissing her until he’d ripped off his uniform and

changed at light speed, avoiding the reporters circling after his performance and charging out to meet her.

“I found you,” she managed to say before he crushed his mouth on hers, and for the first time since he left her, he felt like

himself. Her soft lips tasted like fruit ChapStick, new, but he didn’t mind. It was still Lizzy. His Lizzy.

He braced her face between his hands. “I love you.”

Her big eyes widened even further. Maybe he was rushing the moment, but the missed opportunity had weighed on his chest. “I

love you, and I should have told you that before I left. I was an idiot, and I’m never going to miss a chance to tell you

the truth again.”

“I... I love you too.”

He had to have his mouth on hers again. He kept his arms wrapped around her lower back, though his hands ached to touch her

all over, to reassure himself that this was real. She was really here. They were getting this second chance.

“Toss me your keys, big brother,” Nora chimed in. “I’ll be designated driver as long as you don’t traumatize me while you’re in the back seat. Any funny business and I’m dropping you on the nearest curb and calling you an Uber.”

As they walked to his parking spot, he knew everyone was watching him holding Lizzy’s hand, wondering who the hell she was.

His team would have questions, and so would the media. But everyone could wait because this was his time, and right now, he

got to ask the questions.

“How? When? What?” he asked as they slid into the back of his Jeep.

“I decided you were worth risking plagues and the other perils of time,” she said in a teasing voice. “If I can give credit,

it was Jane who made me see reason. You are my lodestone. I trusted and dove in.”

“That’s Jane Austen ,” Nora piped up from the front, turning out of the underground parking garage and onto the street. “Just so everyone is clear.”

“Yes, Nor,” Tuck said. “You can have your fan time, but right now I’m gonna have mine.”

“I must admit, I was previously at a loss to fully grasp the nature of your endeavors.” Lizzy was watching him raptly, eyes

bright. “The grandeur, the brilliance, the roar of the crowd, and the speed of movement—all were quite beyond my comprehension.

Yet, having now witnessed it firsthand, I find it exhilarating. It is now apparent to me what you meant in saying that your

occupation involves impeding a puck.”

“Yeah? Good.” He was pleased she liked to see him play and had watched him doing the thing that he was second best at. “It’s

pretty cool seeing you in my jersey. And the hat looks all kinds of cute.” He tugged the side of her Regals beanie.

“And these jeans?” Lizzy ran her hands over her thighs. “Your sister let me borrow hers, and they are so practical. They make moving around so much easier, although they are a bit tight on my waist. I do prefer the other kind better. What are they called again, Nora? The stretchy ones?”

“Leggings.” Nora glanced in the rearview mirror, her expression amused but fond.

“And no corsets! And I learned about deodorant. And I have been trying ever so many toothbrushes. Your sister taught me how

to use a curling iron and mascara. Oh, and I have gotten to try on the panties you told me about. I can show you if—”

“I’m sure my brother would love to have a close inspection,” Nora broke in. “But that can be for your special alone time,

hmmm? Not for a special little-sister-in-the-front-of-the-car time. Hard pass, people. Hard pass.”

Tuck threw his arm around Lizzy, drawing her close, unable to fully believe she was beside him. “Tell me about your crossing.”

“The lodestone theory worked. I came directly to your time, but precisely six months later. Quite useful to confirm this lag,

really, because I can’t risk overstaying and finding the pond frozen come winter!”

“Wait.” His chest tightened. “You aren’t staying?”

“Yes. And no.” She reached out and touched his cheek, roughing her hands over the beard he’d been growing for luck. “I would

not have thought I’d like all this hair, but I very much do. It suits you. Very Viking.”

“Thanks, but let’s keep focused on the you-not-staying part of the conversation.”

“Yes.” She sat back in the seat, fiddling with her seat belt strap. “I came to the slow realization that I desire everything life has to offer. I wish to be your wife and share my life with you.” Her words tumbled out in a rush. “However, I cannot forsake my identity or my desire to live among friends or in my own time. Therefore, throughout the year, I shall come to you, and we shall seize those opportunities to be together. And as your schedule permits, you may visit me as well? Let us discuss such plans in due time. All that matters now is that we have this moment, and know that we shall have more ahead of us.”

“Lizzy asked the bartender to call me from Ye Olde King’s Head like you instructed,” Nora smoothly cut in. “And look, I know

it sounds crazy, but I have to say I wasn’t that surprised to hear from her. I’ve never seen you so rattled over a woman,

Tuck. Or anything, for that matter. I figured what you both have must be something pretty special. And you’re just really

lucky that I know a girl who knows a guy who knows another guy in London who might have mad skills in passport forgery and

the less we all know about that, the better.”

Later that night, after Nora discreetly turned in early and they had fallen into his king-size bed to make up for lost time,

Lizzy crawled into his plaid bathrobe and they padded around his condo, Lizzy turning on lamps, exploring the designer kitchen

he never used, the dining room with a wine fridge, the master bathroom’s floor-to-ceiling mirror and large porcelain soaking

tub, before stepping out onto the terrace off his bedroom. “We are up so high. It’s as if I could reach out and touch the

moon.”

“Fiftieth story. Penthouse, baby.” He stepped behind and hugged her close. The wraparound deck offered panoramic views of

the vibrant cityscape and Lady Bird Lake. It was a sight he’d seen often, but tonight? It felt as though they stood together

on the edge of a new world, one where anything was possible, where time itself couldn’t get in their way.

“Will this be enough for you?” he asked, entwining his fingers with hers. They were looking to take the concept of long-distance relationships to the next level. “Will you be able to remember that my heart will always hold on tight, even during moments when I can’t physically do the same?”

“I know this will be a challenge, one that requires commitment and perseverance. But I’m determined for us to triumph. I want

nothing more than to be yours as long as time allows. It’s you and I, together, now and for all eternity. Even if not always

in body, surely in soul.”

“Eternity, huh? Is that all?” He touched his lips to hers, a sweet, soft kiss, one of many more that would come tonight. “Doesn’t

seem long enough, but I guess it’s as good a place to start as any.”