Pucked Off (Pucked #5)(86)
“Are you okay?” I should demand the truth, make him open up and give me more, but I’m also scared of pushing him too far when he’s like this.
“I want to be.”
I run my hands up his bare chest, giving in to him, though I know that may not be my wisest move. “And I’ll make it better?”
He cups my cheeks in his palms, kisses me tenderly and rests his forehead against mine. “Yes.”
As much as I want to know more, I want this, too. His need for me is heady.
“Then you should take me back to bed so I can do that for you.”
He picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and carries me up the stairs. Shortly thereafter, he makes me come three times. He tells me he needs me, this, us.
And I want to believe him—I think he’s telling the truth—but I’m so scared.
Because I’ve fallen now, and someone else seems to have a hold on him.
CHAPTER 21
HEAD GAMES
LANCE
I get it now. I’ve found someone who consumes my world, so I don’t say anything to Miller about the excessive display of affection he’s engaged in right now. Instead, I grab his bag from his front porch and toss it into the back of my Hummer while he cradles baby Logan in one arm and close-talks Sunny with the other.
I get his bad moods. I get why he’s quiet and anxious these days. This thing with Poppy is new, and Miller and Sunny have been together for a long time now, but the restlessness that’s settled in my chest is directly related to leaving Poppy this morning. And knowing I won’t see her for five days dampens the usual excitement of the games. Miller must feel this times a million.
Randy tosses Miller’s equipment on top of mine, and I use my shoulder to force the door shut.
“Two minutes, Butterson,” I call, and then Randy and I get back in the Hummer and wait.
My phone goes off, so I check it, thinking maybe it’s Poppy messaging me between appointments. It’s not, it’s unknown. “Fuckin’ell.”
Randy looks up from his own phone. “What’s up?”
“Tash.”
“Why don’t you just block her?”
“I did. She got a new phone. Or another one. I don’t fucking know.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. She won’t let up. It’s been pretty constant since all the pictures of me and Poppy showed up.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit is right. She wants to meet up and talk when we’re in LA, which is Tash-speak for fucking with my head. I told her no, but she always does what she wants.”
“You think she’ll show up anyway?”
“I don’t know. Probably. She’ll want to see the team, right? It’s like she wants to screw this up for me.”
“I don’t get it. Why is she still all over you like this?”
“That’s a good question, and I don’t have an answer, other than she gets a kick out of messing with me.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“Yeah. I just need to avoid her in LA, and then hopefully she’ll let up after that.” I don’t know how else to get rid of her.
“You think you can do that?”
“I’m gonna have to, aren’t I?”
“I guess. How’re things with Poppy anyway?”
I think about how I left her this morning: hair all tangled, lips swollen and cheeks pink from the see-you-soon orgasms I gave her.
“Good. She’s good. Things are good.” For now.
Randy strokes his beard. “Does she know about Tash?”
“That she’s still calling me? No. That she exists. Yeah.”
“Do you think you should tell her?”
“And say what? My ex, or whatever I’m supposed to call her, still fucks with my head? She already knows it was a complicated situation. I don’t plan to see Tash, so it shouldn’t be an issue anyway, right?”
“I guess not, but it’s probably a good idea to be honest with her, especially since you seem to be turning into something serious.”
Miller opens the rear passenger door and drops into the seat behind Randy. “Thanks for waiting, Romance.”
“No problem. I know they’re hard to leave behind.”
He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “I really hope this gets easier.”
I finally understand his worry.
We had it out last week about why he’s been so shitty with me. Poppy was the issue. He thought I was going to treat her like she’s just another bunny.
It turns out when Poppy was performing her dick removal last year, she happened to tell him I was her first kiss. He’d known the entire time and said nothing.
Obviously I was pissed about that in return, because if he’d just said something, we could’ve avoided all the fucking tension in the first place. But she’d asked him not to tell me, and he figured if I couldn’t remember I didn’t deserve to know. He had a point, even though I didn’t like it.
And now that I know the how and the why and the where of our beginning, I’m glad he didn’t tell me, because getting that memory back is probably one of the best things to happen to me in a long time.
I put the Hummer in gear, and we head for the airport.