Page 71 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

Who is it?? Where are they taking you?

Damn it, Sydney. Where are you?

Penn returns, setting my backpack in the footwell behind his chair and sliding into the driver’s seat. He looks at me, his brows furrowing.

“What’s wrong?”

A tear rolls down my cheek before I realize I’m at that point. My vision goes blurry. I blink rapidly, swiping at my face. I don’t want to keep crying or reliving the last hour of my life. I just want to keep pretending that I’m fucking fine.

“I’m fine.”

I just thought L. would be able to help me. But how on earth would he do that?

My phone lights up with Carter’s name. I glance over at Penn, who’s still watching me—not my phone. But his gaze does drop to it, and he scowls.

He snatches my phone and answers the call.

“You’re too late,” he says.

I can’t make out Carter’s words from here. I reach, but Penn dodges my hands.

“You had the chance to rescue the princess, asshole, but apparently you screen your calls.” Penn gazes at me, listening. Then, “She’s fine now. Don’t worry—I plan on comforting her all night long.”

I look away.

He tosses my phone in the cup holder.

I wipe at another fucking tear. Crying is stupid. It’s all stupid.

“Talk to me.”

I just?—

I unbuckle and get out of the car. I’m too hot. I have too much energy. It’s all pent up and useless, and I fucking hate it.

“I’ve got just the thing,” Oliver says. He leans in the doorway of the mechanic’s warehouse, the light behind him silhouetting his body and hiding his expression. “If you can stomach me for an hour or so.”

“What is it?”

He lifts one shoulder. “Come find out. But I can guarantee you I’m not going to baby you. Not now, not ever.”

“Okay,” I agree. I hold out my arms. “Lead the way.”

twenty-one

sydney

Oliver Ruiz has a motorcycle.

He passes me a helmet and watches passively as I struggle to get it buckled under my chin. He got his on in record time, and he straddles the seat with a comfortability that is, quite frankly, shocking.

I’m already regretting choosing his option instead of Penn’s.

“Sometime tonight, Sydney.”

My eyebrows hike up. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said my name.”

“At least this month,” he allows. “I’m sure I’ve used it before.”