I Pucking Love You (The Copper Valley Thrusters #5) - Pippa Grant Page 0,107

Muffy has her phone on her, and I have zero doubt she’d borrow a phone from a stranger if she wanted to reach someone.

I hope that someone is me. “Hello?”

“What the hell did you do to Muffy?”

The voice. I know the voice. It’s— “Maren?”

“She emailed her entire Muff Matchers list, confessed to finding dates for us on dating apps since she said she doesn’t have the network to do everything she wants to do for us the right way, and that she’ll understand if we all want to fire her since she’s probably getting booted for violating terms of service and won’t be able to find us matches anymore. What. The hell. Did you. Do?”

“Where is she?”

“One, even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you, and two, if you hurt her, I will fucking destroy you.”

“No need,” I mutter. “If I hurt her, I’ll destroy myself.”

45

Tyler

I can’t find Muffy.

She’s not at my place. She’s not with Kami. I talked Maren’s address out of Kami, but she wasn’t there either. Nor was she with Alina or Felicity, Ares’s wife and the fourth member of Kami’s tight-knit group of friends that Muffy’s always felt like she lives at the fringes of.

There isn’t an official Muff Matchers office, but I swing by Cod Pieces, where the weekend manager says he hasn’t seen her and D’Angelo offers to both quit and help me look for her, and also go ninja on my ass if I hurt her.

I tell him to stay where he is and that I’ll have Muffy call him later.

With Maren and Alina’s help, we track down a few more Muff Matchers clients, but none of them know anything about Muffy’s whereabouts.

Not even Brianna, who was the last person to see her.

“She kept apologizing, like she was sorry she had to find Steve this way for me, but I’m not mad, and neither is he,” she tells me on the phone before dropping her voice to add in a whisper, “I’m glad she found him, no matter how. He’s a lot nicer and more patient and interesting than any of the other guys I’ve ever tried to date. That was really nice of her to screen all those men on dating apps who pretend they’re something they’re not. It’s a service more people should offer.”

She’s not at any of her favorite cafes.

I can’t find Rufus in my condo, which doesn’t necessarily mean she’s gone for good—he could be hiding somewhere—but her car’s gone, and based on what I know of Muffy leaving Richmond, if she decides she wants to disappear, that’s exactly what she’ll do.

Even if she doesn’t have her clothes with her.

Or her phone, which I find lying in the middle of my bed.

Fuck.

It takes me forever, but I figure out Veda’s office number. I get her weekend answering service, convince them it’s an emergency, and they promise to immediately pass on the message that her best friend is missing.

And I’m out of ideas.

I’m so out of ideas that I need new ideas, so I head the one place I know I’ll find people who might be crazy enough to guess where I should check next.

The bunny bar.

I bang on the knocker, and the small, rectangular hatch at eye level slides open. “Password?”

“Shaved skates.”

“Wrong door.” The hatch slides shut, and what the hell?

They changed the password.

They changed the password.

I pull up my email and flip through for a note with the new password, but I don’t have anything from the bunny bar.

Seriously?

I hit my text messages and pull up the thread with Athena and Cassadee. Stuck outside the bunny bar. When did the password change? Got a problem. I need help.

I pace the street while I wait for an answer, and it takes a lot longer than I wish it did.

Fuck.

I’m supposed to be at practice.

Jesus.

This isn’t good.

Coach is gonna kill me. Coach is gonna kill me and make me wish Cranford had finished me off. I hit Lavoie’s number on my phone, and it goes straight to voicemail.

Klein’s number does too.

Shit shit shit.

Goodbye, hockey career.

Goodbye, woman of my dreams.

I dial Ares last, and when his voicemail message—a single grunt—hits my ear, I spill my guts. “Ares. Fuck. I forgot it’s practice time. Muffy’s gone. Like, disappeared gone. I can’t find her, and things went to shit because all the tabloids dug into her and exposed all of her secrets and I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s okay. Fuck. Fuck. I think I love her. No.