Pucked Off (Pucked #5)(102)

I crouch down so we’re eye to eye. “If you want. I mean, we can stay for a while, too. I like this.” I motion to the table and the chatter. “You here, with all the people who are important to me.”

Her smile is the balm I need.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” she says. “It’s been really nice to meet them. They all care so much about you. Violet and Lily were very persuasive.”

“I’m sure they were.”

“You’re right about Violet being crazy.”

“Right?”

“Let me find April. Then we can go talk without yelling at each other.”

I pull her chair out and help her put on her coat, mostly so I can touch her. She spots April, and I follow her finger as she points. Shit. Her friend is currently chatting with Rookie.

“You need to warn your girl off this guy,” I tell her.

“What? Why?”

“Unless she’s down for the hook up, Rookie’s a no-go.”

Poppy frowns. “She’s not like that.”

“I didn’t think so.”

I follow Poppy, who pulls April aside to tell her whatever she plans to tell her. At the same time I make a point of telling Rookie April’s not a bunny, and fucking her is off the table.

“Seriously, man, do not put your dick inside that girl. Not anywhere,” I warn.

He smirks. “Tongue and fingers still work, yeah?”

I grab his shoulder and squeeze a little. “Any part you put inside her, I’ll make you eat. How’s that sound?”

“Okay, okay, Romance. I hear you. What’s her deal?”

“You see the little redhead?”

He glances over my shoulder and checks Poppy out. “I sure do.”

I snap a finger beside his ear to get his attention back. “She’s mine.”

He blinks a couple of times. “Right. Sorry. Yeah.”

“And the girl you’re talking to is her friend, so either keep your dick in your pants tonight or find someone else to be interested in.”

“Right. Got it. Don’t touch the friend.”

“Or what?”

“You’ll feed me my—” He doesn’t bother to finish. His face says more than enough.

“Good man. Have fun tonight.” I clap him on the shoulder and turn to find Poppy and April engaged in an intense discussion. It ends with a hug, and then Poppy laces her fingers with mine.

It takes a half hour to get out of the bar because I must introduce her to at least twenty of my teammates. When we step outside, Miller and Sunny are there, too. Miller’s holding Logan, who seems to be drooling on his shoulder, while Sunny puts the car seat back in the limo.

Miller eyes Poppy, then me. “You guys want to catch a lift?”

There doesn’t seem to be any cabs around.

“There’s a concert at House of Blues tonight. Someone said it would take twenty minutes to get a cab, so we’re using the limo. It’s gonna circle back here after dropping us home,” Miller explains.

I can’t wait any more than I already have, so I motion for Poppy to get in first. A flash of memory hits me as I give her my hand and she steps inside: Miller drunk off his ass, me ushering girls into a limo, a red ponytail.

“Lance?” Poppy hesitates. “Do you want to wait?” She wiggles her hand in mine. I’m squeezing it. Tightly.

I loosen my grip. “No. It’s okay. It’s cold. We should go.”

I follow after her, more memories trickling in—ones I don’t want. I’m sure Poppy’s familiar with all of them. She settles beside me in the limo and takes my hand, her curious gaze questioning. I give her a tight smile, but say nothing.

Miller and Sunny work together to buckle in the car seat. It takes a few minutes, and all the while Poppy keeps stroking the back of my knuckles with her thumb.

“Are you okay?” she asks on a whisper.

“Yeah. Just some memories.”

“Of?”

“You before I remembered you.”

Her eyes are full of sad understanding as she leans in and presses a kiss against my shoulder. I can’t feel it through the layers of coat and shirt, but I appreciate the gesture.

Once the baby is secure, Miller gives the driver my address, checking with me to make sure he has the house number correct.

“We can drop you guys off first,” I tell Miller.

He frowns. “Your place is on the way.”

“I was thinking we’d go to Poppy’s.”

“Your place is fine,” she says, settling the debate before it can get started.

I don’t know how I feel about having this conversation at my house. The last time she was there, things didn’t exactly go well. But I don’t know how to argue with her, so I leave it alone.

Poppy and Sunny chat a little on the way, but it’s clear Sunny is tired. She keeps yawning, and her blinks get longer and slower. I’m too preoccupied with the conversation that needs to be had to really participate. My place isn’t all that far from the bar, and at this late hour, it doesn’t take long to get there.

We say a quick good-bye, and I get out first, helping Poppy as the driver holds the door open. She doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk up the steps to my front door. I try to see my house from her perspective, but all I have are flashes of Miller falling into my foyer and a red ponytail I didn’t get to touch that night.