Page 5 of Puck Me Twice Over

“Yeah?” Something akin to delight lit his voice. “What did you study?”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t graduate.”

Silence fell between us, along with a plethora of unasked questions that weighed maybe a solid twenty-one grams. My heart clenched at the thought of the unethical soul-weighing study, but it came to mind right about now. I could sense the tension radiating from Knox’s oversized body. Even though he didn’t lean forward, his presence intensified. The burger lowered, and I knew I’d have to come up with some pithy excuse. A lie he’d see right through then interrogate me until he dug through to the truth.

Gripping my coffee tight, I slugged the scalding liquid and burned my throat. Tears welled right on cue. Hell, maybe that was my comeuppance in advance. The coffee-karma fairy got me before I told a fib to the man who once made me promise never to lie to him.

Yeah, he could call bullshit any day and he’d probably be right.

“English major. Classical lit.” Knox’s intense gaze pinned me.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, then gave up. Why fight him? “Yep. That was it. A degree that would have gotten me nothing and nowhere.”

Knox’s expression darkened. “Those are someone else’s words coming out of your mouth, Flick. Just reframed in your voice.”

I shrugged, though movement just beyond his shoulder saved me. Dark hair, styled in a mimicry of Knox’s faux hawk, appeared over the booth’s seat behind him sporting the same haircut.

A smirk of my own settled over my lips. Good timing on the distraction awards. “I think you have a new stalker.”

“Huh?” Knox's surprise was both cute and comical as he twisted to peer over his shoulder and met his mini me head on. “Hey, little man. Isn’t it past your bed time?”

I glanced at my watch. Nearly eleven. Knox nailed it, though the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I peered past the two boys, one oversized and one mini-Knox, already deep in conversation about hockey. What else would they talk about? I spotted a woman with long, straight hair that looked like it needed a good brush who was seated on the opposite side of the table to the kid that Knox engaged. She stared vacantly at a spot on the wall over my head, her hands clasped around a cup of coffee that I suspected remained untouched.

I scooted forward and caught the boy’s attention. “Is that your mom?”

He nodded, lowering his voice. “Yeah. My dad’s other girlfriend is over, so we had to leave for a few hours. I don’t like her. She’s loud.” He grimaced, and pressed his hands over his ears to emphasize the point.

Knox frowned, his mouth opening. I pressed a hand to his arm gently. “I wonder if there’s a teddy here who might need a new home?”

Knox’s nose twitched like he might object, but he gave in with good grace, picking up the teddy that sat on the table with us. He tugged on the Chimera’s scarf that pooled around it, the too-long dangling comically beyond teddy’s feet. “Do you know what this is?” he said in a serious tone, holding the bear out.

The boy’s eyes grew wide. “That’s a Basilisk’s bear!” he nearly shouted, then covered his mouth with a grubby hand. “But should you have it? You’re a Chimera.”

I suppressed a snort. Of course the kid knew who Knox was. We’d be hard pressed to go anywhere he or the rest of his team mates wouldn’t be known in this town.

Knox nodded. “Yeah, it’s a Basilisk bear. Did you know we played them tonight?”

The kid’s eyes grew even wider, and he shook his head, mouthing, ‘no’.

“Right? We did. We won, too. That’s why he’s wearing a Chimeras’ scarf right now. But the Basilisks are great competitors, and they deserve respect.” Knox held out the bear. “You want to take him? I think he needs a good home tonight. The crowd was pretty noisy, so he might be frightened, too.”

My smirk from earlier faded into a smile as the bear acquired a new owner. Knox watched the transfer happen with something akin to sadness reflected in his eyes, his profile taut, lips soft.

And all heart.

There’s the boy I fell in love with back in high school.

Some part of me was pleased to see that the version of Knox, the one with all the thoughtful gestures and heartstrings that no one else ever could match up to, was still hidden away in there. That he hadn’t been lost beneath all the layers of hockey jerseys and trophies and personas he donned when he became a Chimera.

“Knox!” The woman at the boy’s table jerked out of her stupor. She fumbled her coffee that splashed her wrists, though she ignored whatever temperature the dark liquid currently sat at. “Don’t bother the nice people.” She mopped at her coffee, her hair swinging forward, hiding the fresh shadows that only highlighted deep circles that hung beneath her eyes. “I’m so sorry. He talks to anyone.”

Knox shrugged and gave her an easy smile. “It’s okay. Sounds like it’s a pretty cruddy night for most of us.” He gestured outside at the rain that refused to let up. “He’s not harming anyone.”

The woman didn’t seem to hear him, tugging at the bear. “Give that back. We should go.” She glanced at her watch. “Knox, I said give it back.”

“Hey, we share a name. Nice, buddy.” Knox—the bigger version in front of me—held out his hand for a fist bump. Little Knox provided one, completing the bonding moment. My guy turned to the frazzled mom. “Seriously, it’s his. He understands what the bear is about.”

It took a moment for the face, the bear, the name and the branding to click. The woman looked up into Knox’s face, horrified. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Knox, you really shouldn’t have bothered the man and his girlfriend.”