Puck Prince (Houston Scythes Hockey #1)

55. Owen

55

OWEN

It’s Callie’s first day back, and I haven’t seen her yet.

I’ve seen her car at my complex every day. Which means I’ve had to fight the urge to knock on Kennedy’s door every day and ask if Callie is over there.

Is she inside? Is she okay? Did she move into her new apartment yet? Is she ever coming back?

But I lost the right to know the answer to any of those questions when I left, and things have been unusually quiet on the other side of the wall.

Which means I’ve been a mess.

My game is off. My stomach is off. My sleep is off. I’m just off . But this isn’t about me. I’ve never played the victim card before, and even if I wanted to, it’s not in my hand right now.

I have no reason to be upset. And I have no reason to be searching for Callie in every hallway of the arena.

But I am.

It’s her first day back at work after the accident, and I’m on edge. I can’t relax.

The way I’m feeling, I’m not sure if I want to see her or not.

Then, when I’m almost to the locker room, I see her.

She’s walking out of Coach’s office, and my heart stops. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since I left her in that hospital room, and I know all at once that I fucked up.

Her hair is done, she’s wearing the green pair of scrubs that cinch in her waist and make her ass look unbelievable, and she has on bright red lipstick. Revenge lipstick. The same one she wore the first day I saw her outside the arena.

My first instinct is to dive into the locker room face first. Actually, my first instinct is to grab her, pin her to the wall, and offer a very physical apology for being the world’s biggest dumbass.

But neither are an option because she looks up and spots me at the same time I notice the tears rolling down her cheeks.

She’s crying.

She discreetly sniffles and tries to turn her face away. She’s really going to walk right past me like she doesn’t see me.

But I see her, and I can’t let her leave when she’s upset.

“Callie.” I reach for her, but she snatches her arm away.

I look down the hall towards Coach’s office, wondering if he’s going to come running after her. Head Coach or not, if he just made his niece cry, he should fucking apologize. Instead, I see Miles walking in, his head bowed.

I turn and jog after her. “Callie, wait.”

She flinches, but doesn’t stop. I have to put myself in front of her before she’ll slow down.

“Owen, I’m not in the mood,” she cries.

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get out of my way. I have things to do.”

She tries to step around me, but I block her.

“I swear to God, Owen. If you don’t get out of my way?—”

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” For the first time, she lets her eyes meet mine. She’s shattered and it breaks me. “Please, Callie. I care about you.”

“You have a very interesting way of showing it.” She sniffles again, and I can practically see her switch flip from sadness to anger. “Everyone says they care, but almost no one means it.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, desperate for an explanation. “What happened in there?”

“It’s not your business.”

“Callie, I know we aren’t—” My jaw clenches until I think it might shatter. “We still work together. If something is going on, I should?—”

“You don’t have to worry about working together anymore, Owen. You don’t have to worry about running into me at all. Not at work. Not at home. That’s what you wanted, right?” she spits.

All of my better judgment goes out the window, and I grab her, pulling her against me. “You don’t know anything about what I want.”

Callie’s throat catches. When she looks up at me, tears are still streaming from her eyes. She blinks them back. “None of it matters anymore. I was asked to leave.”

My heart drops to the floor. “What? Why? Because of us?”

“No.” She shakes her head, swallowing hard. “This was all my fault. Working here after everything that happened was a mistake.”

“Nothing that happened to you before was your fault, Callie.”

“Getting caught up in you was a mistake. Going along with the lie, believing for five seconds that maybe it wasn’t a lie…” She trails off, and I want— need her to finish that thought. But then she snaps back. “It was a mistake. I’m going to pack up my office now.”

None of this makes sense. Something must have happened. I mean, a lot has happened. But something must have happened here in the last hour to change everything.

Callie starts to pull away when a door slams down the hall followed by the sound of Miles’s voice.

“Hey, Callie. Shouldn't you be gone?”

Callie flinches at the sound like it was a gunshot. Without meaning to, her hand fists in my shirt, clinging to me like her life depends on it.

Certainty settles in my chest like dread, squeezing me tight.

I look from her to Miles, who is walking down the hall towards us.

Callie gives me a pleading look before she whispers, “I’m sorry.”

With that, she rips herself away from me and darts down the hall just as Miles reaches me.

“Dude, what in the actual fuck is going on?”

“She didn’t tell you?” I hate the smug look on his face—that he knows something about Callie that I don’t.

“She didn’t tell me shit. She came out of Coach’s office crying, saying she has to leave. She wouldn’t say anything else.”

Miles chuckles dryly. “Of course she didn’t.”

I’m not amused. None of this is funny.

“Since you seem to know what happened, why don’t you tell me?”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.” Miles lifts his chin before going on. “Callie came onto me.”

Okay, so maybe this is a little funny. I snort out a laugh. “The fuck you talkin’ about?”

“Laugh if you want, but it’s true. It’s been happening for weeks.”

Bullshit.

“Bullshit.” The filter between my head and my mouth is thinner than ever. I square up to him. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Except she did. And she has been. It’s been going on for weeks now.”

A cocktail of mixed feelings swirls around in my head. There’s no way he’s telling the truth. Callie doesn’t even like Miles. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

I don’t believe it.

“You’re lying, Solomon. This isn’t the first time she’s been rattled after being around you. What did you do?”

“You don’t want to do this, Sharpe.”

Miles moves to walk around me, but I block his path. “What really happened at the charity event? I found her after she was alone with you, and she looked just as scared as she did today.”

“You mean when she tried to kiss me?”

His words hit me like a punch to the mouth, but that’s what he wants. He’s trying to catch me off guard, but my gut says differently. My gut knows differently.

I know Callie.

“She wouldn’t do that.”

Miles snorts. “Fuck, man—she hid a pregnancy from you. She got this job because she’s the coach’s niece, and then she brainwashed you into thinking she’s something special. She’s not. What she is, is a great liar.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomon.” I shove him back half a step, but he rebounds quickly.

He keeps going, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Things are about to change around here, Sharpe. More than you know. You’ve paraded around like the alpha, but I think you are the one who needs to back the fuck up.”

But I don’t.

I do something that could end my career, end my friendships, even end my chances with Callie. But I don’t care.

I rear back and, before Miles can even see me coming, my fist collides with his jaw.

The vibration rattles through my bones and up my arm. My knuckles burst with pain. The hit is almost enough to take him to the ground. Almost.

Instead, his head snaps sideways and then he’s back, scowling at me with bloody teeth. His eyes drag up to mine like a knife. “I should fucking kill you for that.”

He comes at me, slamming me against the wall. He gets one slug to my stomach in, but his equilibrium is off because his next shot misses, hitting the wall instead. It gives me the opportunity to change my position. When he charges me again, I take him to the floor.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kick your ass!” he growls.

That night at the ball, I should’ve followed my instinct. I should’ve tracked Miles down and hashed this out with him then.

It’s not until my fist connects with his face again and again that I realize I’ve had this energy burning up inside of me for weeks.

A crowd is gathering. Workers in the arena, custodial staff—they congregate around us.

Then I hear Coach’s voice boom down the hallway. “Break it up! Get off each other!”

Coach Coleman and some other guy, a barrel-chested kid in brand new Scythes sweats, pull Miles and I apart. Miles raises his hands easily, but when I lunge for him again, the stranger slams me into the wall. Hard.

Too hard.

I start to turn on him, ready to let this rage fly at just about anyone when Coach claps his hands. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“He attacked me.” Miles’s breathing is jagged as he wipes blood from his chin with the back of his wrist.

“Not that anyone can believe your version of events.” I spit at his feet, not bothered by the blood on the floor. My lip probably split open again, but I don’t care.

Miles scowls, and I lunge at him again, but the guy behind me shoves me back into the wall.

“Enough!” Coach shouts. “Whatever bullshit is going on between the two of you, drop it. All this drama is destroying who we are, and I’m not going to put up with it anymore. It’s why I’m making a change.”

I’m off the team. He’s going to cut me.

Some sick, twisted part of me doesn’t even care. I deserve it.

I meet my end head on. Coach will have to look me in the eyes when he cuts me.

Instead, he looks to the man still braced in ready position in case I make another lunge at Miles.

“Team, this is the new draft pick for the Scythes.”

“ Draft pick ?” I ask aloud.

Miles is smirking as Coach gestures to the man with the sparkling smile and his arms folded over his chest.

“Everyone, meet Spencer Santos.”

KEEP READING WITH BOOK 2 OF THE HOUSTON SCYTHES HOCKEY DUET:

PUCK PRINCESS .