Page 11 of Pucked Together

UGH.

I throw my phone across the room so hard it crashes against the dresser and lands with a thud. I probably cracked it. And to be honest, I don't care.

Hot tears fill my eyes, and I'm mad at myself for still feeling anything for him. He doesn't deserve my pain. My tears. My frustration. And worse, I can't even talk to my best friend about it because she's gone too.

A double fucking whammy.

I grab the pillow next to me, pushing my face into it, and let out a muffled scream. Wednesday stirs beside me. I try to get a hold of my breath.

Breathe, Izzy, breathe.

There's a soft knock on the bathroom door, and I exhale and rush to clear the tears from my eyes.

"What?"

"Can I...open the door?" Ryker's voice hesitates on the other side.

"Are you going to say something smug or stupid?" I ask.

He hesitates again and then sternly says, "No."

"Fine, then."

The door clicks open, revealing a fully dressed Ryker, and the very sight of him stifles my breath again. He's not close enough, but he looks like he smells divine.

A god in a tight white shirt that does nothing to hide the bunched muscles of his neck and shoulders. And the joggers hanging on his waist are doing things to my body without my permission. The man is a beast. He looks like the kind of guy that other guys just cower from. He crosses his arms and leans on the door frame.

"I couldn't help but overhear you and your brother."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't," I offer. My tears turn to anger.

He only groans in response—a deep guttural sound.

"What?"

"How long were you together?"

I shake my head, not wanting to think about it and even less wanting to talk about it with the likes of him. But the look in his eyes has me feeling something unexpected.

What is this feeling? Safe?

He hasn't moved a muscle. His eyes are glued on me like I'm the only thing in the room.

"Two years," I finally give in. "We were engaged for two weeks when I..."

He shifts his weight onto his other foot and just waits.

"You know what, never mind. I'm not here to rehash history. I'm here for a fresh start." I breathe out, wanting to believe my own words.

He nods. "Takes about half the time you were with someone to get over them. Especially if it was serious."

His response comes as a surprise. The serious, sports-focused road-rager has some actual insight to offer.

"I didn't take you for a relationship expert, Goalie-zilla."

He huffs, and I notice he just makes animalistic noises when he doesn't want to say something.

I lean back and look at him. "Who broke your heart?"