The Pucking Wrong Man: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 4)

It had been two days since I’d seen Camden.

Two days should seem like nothing in the grand scheme of things. After all, I’d been the one to tell him to leave. I’d told him who I was, how our lives could never meet because we didn’t live in the same worlds.

He’d done exactly what I’d asked, hadn’t he?

He’d left.

So, why did it hurt so bad?

Two days of dancing with a spinning head, throwing up in the bathroom in between classes because my head was throbbing so much from my concussion.

Two days of enduring gossip from the other dancers because I refused to talk to anyone about why I looked the way I did.

Two days of working at Charlie’s without him sitting at his table and staring at me while I worked.

Two days.

I sighed as I sat on the bus, staring at my lap and the fact that my fingernails were bitten down to stumps. Between my fingers and my feet and my face…I really was an attractive package.

Of course he’d left. Who would stay?

The problem was that I missed him, and if I was being honest with myself, I hated him for that.

I’d gotten used to being alone, and then he’d showed up, a temporary flash of light in the sky that lit up everything around me.

And when that flash of light faded away, my world seemed darker than ever.

I trudged into Haven, giving a half-hearted smile to Clara, the night front desk attendant.

I was so fucking exhausted. And somehow everything seemed louder tonight, the children’s fits, the women’s cries, people arguing…everything was so loud. A good night’s sleep was going to be impossible…and don’t even get me started on going to the bathroom.

It had taken a herculean effort to drag myself into that restroom every day. I hadn’t seen that girl anywhere since she’d left me on the floor, but that didn’t mean I didn’t shake every time I opened the door. I’d gone in with groups the last two nights—something I’d actively avoided in the past. But without voices surrounding me, I couldn’t force myself inside.

Luckily, there was a mother and her three children headed for the bathroom at the same time as me, and I was able to follow them inside. Throwing water on my face, I hurried through my short nighttime routine, leaving the room as soon as possible.

And later, as I stared at the ceiling on my hard cot, I cursed Camden and the shooting star he’d flown away on.

“Anastasia. Anastasia. Wake up.”

I blinked open my eyes, noticing that the lighting in the room was still dim. It wasn’t time to wake up yet. Unless something had happened—I sat up abruptly, almost knocking heads with the night supervisor, Meredeth.

“What is it? What happened?” I asked, my eyes darting around the room as I tried to figure out what was going on. Everyone still seemed like they were sleeping—or at least the regulars seemed to be sleeping. The new women never slept the first few nights.

Meredeth’s lips were pursed, her stern expression matching the tight black bun she was wearing that could rival any prima ballerina’s.

“We need to search your things, Anastasia,” Meredeth murmured, keeping her voice low so that she didn’t disturb the people who were sleeping around us. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Why, what’s going on?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest from the abrupt wake-up, my brain struggling to comprehend what was happening. Why were they searching my belongings? What had I done wrong?

I slid off the cot, wincing at the soreness in my leg. My hands were trembling as I watched Meredeth and another volunteer, Conny, kneel beside my cot, their fingers digging into the space beneath it.

“What are you looking for? I don’t understand,’ I cried. Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach as Meredeth unearthed a handful of small baggies, the white pills inside them glinting in the faint light.

“These are what we were looking for, Anastasia,” she said, in a very disappointed voice as she slowly got up from the floor, the baggies clenched tightly in her hand.

“Those aren’t mine. I swear it, Meredeth. I would never—” my voice rose in panic. The woman in the cot behind me stirred and muttered something.

I lowered my voice. “I don’t know where those came from. I don’t even know what they are!”

Meredeth stared at the baggies for a long moment before she finally met my gaze for the first time, her face full of disappointment.

Conny was shaking her head. Douchebag. She’d just started working here two weeks ago, and a lot of the regulars had complained of how judgmental she was. As if all of us at the shelter wouldn’t have to stay here if we just tried harder.

I stared at the white pills in disbelief, trying to understand where they’d come from, how this could have happened. Tears pooled in my eyes as I realized how this looked. Glancing at Meredeth, I knew what she was going to say before the words had even come out of her mouth. “You know our policies, Ana. We have a one-strike rule when it comes to substances. I can’t just ignore this.” Her words were heavy with regret. “I’m so sorry, but this is your last night with us. You won’t be able to come back.”

Frustrated and shocked tears streamed down my face as I realized she was serious. Despite the fact that I’d had a perfect record for the entire three years I’d stayed here…they were kicking me out.

“What about the girl who’d assaulted me the other night after I walked in on her with a needle in her arm—did she get the one-strike rule speech as well?” I asked hysterically, searching around the room, wondering if she was sleeping peacefully in here somewhere, with the drugs swimming through her veins.

Sure there were other homeless shelters in the city that I could go to. But none of them were like this—for women only, and clean, and safe.

“Grab your things,” Meredith said, not answering me, and I fell to my knees.

“Please, they’re not mine. Someone planted them. Please don’t kick me out tonight.” I was babbling almost incoherently, but my words somehow got to Meredeth, her gaze softening. She pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling for a second before taking a deep breath.

“Because of your previous perfect record, you can stay for the rest of the night,” she said, a look of pity in her gaze that I hated. “But you need to be ready to leave at seven. We’ll be back in the morning to walk you out. And then you can’t come back,” she said firmly. I blinked at that. I mean, I had seen them do that to other people, but….

“You don’t need to walk me out,” I whispered, my ears heating up in shame.

“Seven a.m.,” she said firmly before she and Conny walked away.

I stared after them before I sat back on my cot heavily. What was I going to do?

And whose drugs were those? I glanced around at the cots, searching for someone who’d given me a weird vibe, or a mean look at some point. But there were only newbies around me that I hadn’t really interacted with. I couldn’t think of a reason that a perfect stranger would have placed drugs under my cot. If they’d been trying to hide it until later in case there was a search, their plan had backfired. Because they’d just lost their drugs.

Was it that girl? Had I somehow offended her in a past life and she’d come here to ruin me, first in the bathroom and now?

Except…she didn’t seem to be here. So it couldn’t have been her.

So how the hell did those pills get under my cot?

I rubbed my eyes, despair seeping through my veins like broken ink in a pen. The room felt too hot, hysteria crawling up my spine. What was I going to do? Where would I go?

Maybe I could talk to Montana in the morning. Her shift usually began at five. She’d known me longer than Meredeth. She’d defend me, tell everyone there had been a mistake.

I understood the reasoning behind the one-strike policy…but surely there had to be exceptions. Surely someone had successfully pleaded their case and the shelter let them return.

I tried to think if I remembered anyone.

And my heart sank as I laid back on my cot…because I couldn’t think of a single one.

I was awake the rest of the night, staring up at the ceiling and counting down the hours until I no longer had a place to safely rest my head.

Going to Michael’s or his parents wasn’t an option.

I had promised myself I’d never go back there, and even if it killed me, I wasn’t going to break that promise.

When morning came, I was sitting on my cot, my stomach in knots. Montana came through the door and I jumped to my feet as she walked down the aisle toward me, a somber expression on her face.

“Ready to go?” she asked before I could say anything. I blinked at her, the speech I’d been preparing in my head for the past few hours sinking in my chest.

“Montana, I⁠—”

She was shaking her head before I could get the words out. “I’m so sorry, Ana,” she whispered. And she did sound heartbroken. But there was also something different in her gaze, a little glimmer of doubt in me that hadn’t been there before.

I slumped and stared at the floor for a second, accepting my fate. If I’d lost Montana, if she was unwilling to step in for me…well, then that was it.

Picking up my meager bag, I followed her through the rows of cots toward the front desk. I could feel curious gazes, but they didn’t bother me.

No one who was watching me really cared.

I glanced behind me though, thinking how sad it was that even a place like this, who took in any woman and child who walked through its doors…didn’t want me.

“Here,” Montana said suddenly, reaching behind the front desk and pulling out…a Sonic burrito.

I stared at it for a second, trying to will the tears away.

I’d cried for the rest of the night on my cot. I should be all cried out by now.

“Thank you,” I finally whispered in a choked, haunted voice. I took it from her hand and started toward the door.

“Be careful out there, Anastasia,” she said urgently after me.

Maybe it would have been the polite thing to do to glance back at her and acknowledge what she’d said. But all I could muster was a hand thrown over my shoulder.

It was…bright outside, and I squinted because the sunshine of the morning seemed completely at odds with my life.

I started toward the bus stop on autopilot. I hadn’t bothered to think of an action plan last night because I’d been so sure that Montana would help me—that she would believe that the pills weren’t mine.

I took a deep, shuddering breath and finally glanced behind me at Haven. There was no one standing in the window watching after me. No one was running down the steps to bring me back or tell me there had been a mistake.

I bit down on my lip, telling myself I wasn’t going to shed another tear for that place.

Someday, someone was going to be watching me as I left. Someone was going to care enough.

I had to believe that.

I was somewhat calmer once I made it to the dance studio. And by somewhat, I meant I was at least only inwardly crying instead of the sobfest that I could have been participating in.

I danced my heart out, pushing myself to the limit until my leg actually gave out on a turn, and I crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Everyone stopped dancing and the music abruptly cut off.

My face was beet red in embarrassment as I dragged myself off the ground, pretending like it didn’t feel like a knife was embedded in my leg.

“Oops,” I murmured in humiliation.

Dallon was watching me, his head cocked as he stared. He was teaching class today, because that was my luck. I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d skipped out on our date—evidently I hadn’t been worth an explanation.

But of course, today he would decide to talk to me.

“Why don’t we call it for today, ladies,” he said, his eyes not leaving mine.

The girls were chattering and tittering with each other, whispers of my name filling the air as they judged me for what had just happened.

I ignored them, like I always did when my name was on their lips.

But today it was a little bit harder.

“Anastasia, if you could stay behind for a moment,” Dallon said when I’d almost made it to the door. He pushed his hair back, but the sight of his muscles did nothing for me this time.

Maybe Camden had broken me.

My classmate’s whispers grew louder, only disappearing when the last of them had left the room.

“What was that?” Dallon asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his face the picture of disappointment.

“Just a mistake,” I said, shame coating my insides at having to explain myself to him. Dallon was a trust-fund baby whose parents had fed his talent from an early age, doing everything needed to make him into the star he was today.

He knew nothing of hardship and disappointment…and feeling like your whole world was ending.

“You can’t make any mistakes. You can’t afford them,” he said. “You looked like shit out there. If you’re losing your edge…”

The threat hovered in the air between us—the threat of being demoted to a lower rank, or even getting kicked out all together. He didn’t have the same pull as Madame Leclerc, obviously…but any bad word from him certainly wouldn’t help my case. I’d been worried about him making drama for me if I turned him down for a date—I’d forgotten he could make my life harder in other ways as well.

If they demoted me and I made even less, there’d be no way I could make up for it.

Although, that would be the least of my worries if I was sleeping in the streets.

If I lost dance after everything else that I’d lost, I would die. That was the plain and simple truth.

“It was just a bad night. I’ll be better next class. I promise,” I told him, averting my eyes so I could avoid seeing the pity that was probably in his gaze.

His hand went to my arm and he rubbed it softly.

Alright, I hadn’t expected that. Especially with the ghosting he’d done the day of our date.

The universe must just really hate me.

Dance was very physical, obviously. Our instructors were always moving us around to show us proper technique.

And Dallon had always been…more physical than my other instructors.

But this was definitely on another level.

His hand went to my hip and he squeezed gently, and a nervous feeling slid up my throat.

“Is everything going okay?” He was staring at the gash still healing on my forehead and my black eye, his lips curled in disgust. I fought the urge to cover them with my hand.

This would be the time to tell someone what had happened. Not that Dallon would care, but maybe he’d know a couch I could sleep on or something. I could just tell him I’d lost my place…leaving out where my place actually was.

I even opened my mouth, the words at the tip of my tongue.

“I can help you with anything you need,” he continued in a low voice, and his hand was almost…massaging my hip.

The words died immediately.

“I think I’m okay,” I choked out. “A good night’s sleep and I’ll be right as rain.”

Right as rain…had I really just said that?

There was a burst of thunder outside, and suddenly, I was wondering how much sleep it would be possible to get…in the rain.

“You know…I think it would be good for you to get some more private lessons. To help with the upcoming show.”

I frowned. Besides that fall, I’d thought I’d been doing pretty well. How had I missed how badly I was messing up?

His hand slid lower on my hip and I stiffened.

“Free of charge obviously. We could do it at my apartment,” he continued.

I blinked, feeling a little weak at that moment. I was pretty sure what he was insinuating…and it would mean a place to stay for the night.

Really, who needed their virginity anyway?

I shook my head, trying to destroy the feeling.

There was weak…and then there was weak…

And I hadn’t come this far to end up like that.

“Yeah, I—I’ll speak to Madame about options for improvement,” I said, shifting so he could maybe get the hint that he should let me go.

His hands squeezed my hips once and then he released me. “Make sure and ice,” he said in a completely normal tone, like he hadn’t been massaging my hip a second ago.

I pasted a smile on my face and left, forcing myself not to limp even though every step was excruciating.

There were only a few girls left when I got into the locker room. Alena sneered at me and flipped her long black ponytail. She’d been upset with me since the game—like it was my fault she’d been “relocated.”

I pretended like I always did, that it didn’t hurt that these girls I’d danced with for years thought I was nothing.

Before I’d gotten hurt, it hadn’t been quite as bad. They’d made fun of me at my old studio for being a scholarship student…but I was a star.

With my injury, I was still good. But these girls had me in their sights.

Lacey walked out of a bathroom stall, giving me a sheepish smile, but she didn’t say anything before she left.

I cried again after they left, and I changed into the clothes I wore to mop the floors.

And I cried some more as I walked to the diner to start my next shift.

I always told myself I’d never give up.

But today…today I was close.