Page 4 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter
Hard and fast as freshmen in college? No way. Not with the knowledge that my mother barely finished college, nine months pregnant and waddling across the stage with a hand on her rounded belly. It’s a miracle she graduated at all.
I’m not going to be her. Two more years, and I’ll walk away from here with my bachelor’s degree. So many more doors will be open for me because of it. A piece of paper that defines my worth. I won’t be pregnant. I won’t be caught in the web of a guy who is in constant danger of losing his teeth.
Hockey players are not for me.
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes at his antics. Always flirting. Always staring too long at me.
Always watching.
I start to push past him, but he catches my wrist.
“Seriously,” he says.
Carter Masters is hot enough—and unfortunately, skilled enough at hockey—that literally every girl has a crush on him. They can’t help it. He’s an asshole on the ice and charming off of it. The perfect combination.
“How have you been?” He tips his head in a motion toward the door.
Against my better judgment, I follow him outside. We lean against the porch railing facing each other.
I shrug. “I’m fine. Surviving.”
He nods slowly. “And your mom?”
My stomach twists. “She’s just being her normal self.”
She’s destroying both of us from afar, running through the money I saved up working through high school like there’s an infinite amount. She struggles to hold a job at the best of times. But…
“I think she has a boyfriend,” I tell him. The words just slip out. “She’s been flakier lately, so, I guess that’s not a bad thing.”
It is, though.
She never brought guys home. But she left me alone plenty growing up to spend nights or weekends with her latest infatuation.
“And your dad?”
I narrow my eyes. “What about him?”
He’s off-limits.
Carter lifts one shoulder. “He lives here, doesn’t he? Does he know you’re attending St. James?”
“Probably.” I kick at the floor. One thing I didn’t budge on was wearing my black ankle boots. There’s no way Lettie was getting me in heels. “I mean, how could he not? He had to fill out that scholarship form.”
Because he’s the only parent with a full-time job. Because, even though I was on the cusp of eighteen, it didn’t mean shit to the financial aid office.
But knowing that he’s only a ten-minute drive away, if that, and he hasn’t reached out… it sets my teeth on edge. He must have my phone number.
Would it really be so hard to have a relationship with me?
“Hey!” someone yells. “Cops are coming! Meet us at the beach!”
A chorus of half-cheers, half-screams travel through the house. There’s a mad rush of people, and, in the distance, a wail of sirens.
I take a sip of my drink and immediately shake my head. Carter watches me, frowning a little. I have the urge to get completely smashed, so I lift the cup out of his hand and gulp down half of it.
“Whoa.” He steals the cup back. “Come on, party girl. We’ve got to get out of here.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”