Pucked Up (Pucked 2)

Once treatment is over and Michael’s mom has taken him home, we all pile into Lily’s beat-up Honda civic.

“Can you take Miller and me to Alex’s condo?” Sunny asks.

“Sure.” Lily smiles from the front seat.

“You talk to Randy lately?” I ask as we crawl through the streets of Toronto toward the lakeshore.

Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel and a flush creeps up her neck to settle in her cheeks. “He called me a few days ago.”

“He did!” Sunny shrieks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I missed the call. He left a message.”

I keep my mouth shut, but when I get back to Chicago I’m definitely going to mention something to Randy. I think he’s way more hung up on Lily than he wants to admit. I don’t want him to pull his usual crap where he gets involved and then bails. And not just because it’ll cause problems for me and Sunny—that ex of Lily’s seems to be a big douchey problem. She doesn’t need any more.

After forty-five minutes, Lily drops us at a huge condo building. It’s not the distance but the traffic that made the ride take so long. Since traffic always sucks here, we’ll have to hit the road right away. At least we can talk and drive.

First Sunny takes me up to Waters’ condo on the top floor of the building. The space is massive, boasting a sweet view of Lake Ontario. It’s not a lake anyone wants to swim in, according to Sunny. Apparently pollution means going for a dip could result in extra arms growing out of funky places. I’m not sure if she’s serious or not, but I’ll take her word for it.

She lifts a set of car keys from a hook by the door. “I wish you didn’t have to go so soon.”

“Yeah. Me either.”

“You could catch a later flight.” She peeks up from under blond lashes.

“Is that what you want me to do?”

She flips the keys over in her hands. “Only if you want to.”

We’re here now. We might as well have the conversation I’ve been stupidly avoiding. I call Amber. She checks into alternate flights. There are only two options, and neither gives me a whole lot of extra time.

“Hold on.” I cover the phone. “I can either fly out at nine thirty or ten ten.”

“That’s the latest you can stay?” She doesn’t look happy.

“That’s all they’ve got for tonight. I have meetings in Chicago in the morning.”

“Can you take the ten-ten flight?”

I nod. Amber rebooks the flight and makes sure I have the correct information. The change gives me and Sunny an extra hour; I set an alarm on my phone so we’re not late getting to the airport. Sunny rummages around in the fridge for something to drink. She finds a couple bottles of beer and some Perrier. I opt for the latter so beer doesn’t interfere with our conversation.

I flop down on the black leather couch in the living room and put my feet up on Waters’ coffee table. Sunny puts down two glasses of fizzy water and sits beside me, close but not touching.

She starts before I can. “I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I should’ve had more faith in you.”

“I can’t change the past or how often pictures are taken, Sunny. I can only take ownership of what I say and do—not the context it’s taken in, not the way the media wants to skew it. You can tell me you’re sorry and that you should have trusted me, but it doesn’t change how you handled things or give me any indication you won’t handle them the same way again.”

She tucks her feet under her and picks at a loose thread on the knee of her jeans. “So you don’t want to get back together?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She stops fiddling to look at me. “So . . .”

“I’ve been telling you from the beginning that I want this to work. That hasn’t changed for me. I just don’t know if it’s possible.” I run a hand through my hair, aware that I have to lay it all out. “What was I supposed to think when you opted to drive home with Bushman Tiny Dick over staying to talk things out with me? I get that my past is problematic. I understand that it’s going to take some time to get used to managing the media crap, but it’s not something you’re not already exposed to.”

“It never had anything to do with me directly before. The rumors were always about Alex and the hooker bunnies. This is different.”

She has a point, but so do I. “Okay. I can understand how that might have been a problem in the beginning. I know I wasn’t good about the pictures and all that stuff, but that’s changed. I’m trying to be more careful and aware. I had no idea what that car wash was going to be before I got there, and then it was too late. I need to do better about that stuff, but I can’t keep having the same argument with you, over the same issue. It gets tedious. I think I’ve been pretty damn clear about where I stand, haven’t I?”