Sincerely, The Puck Bunny (Totally Pucked #2)(18)

Fuck no. I am not going up there for any reason. Not even if she calls me a chicken.

She sighs heavily, batting her lashes at me dramatically. “Guess I won’t be giving you that thing I’ve been thinking about since this morning after all.”

“Woman, are you blackmailing me right now?”

“Call it what you want, but…” She shrugs, then trails off, and starts to walk to the cliff.

She’s going to fucking leave me here and jump off that damn thing by herself. Hell no.

I groan. “Fuck.”

This is not happening. I came to this damn inn in the middle of nowhere to detox and relax and then somehow find the girl of my fucking dreams, who’s got me even considering jumping off this damn thing. I’ll be headed back to Chicago in a casket. Goodbye hockey career, goodbye life in general.

“We’re going to die,” I tell her simply.

Maddison laughs, the sound hitting me directly in the gut. It’s soft and feminine, and so fucking sweet. “You are so dramatic. We are not going to die, Briggs. Do you know how many kids jump off this thing every summer?”

I look up at the looming monstrosity, my stomach churning at the thought of climbing up it, let alone jumping off the side. Its daunting size has my stomach in knots.

“Yeah, well, how about we just go for a swim and have a repeat of before breakfast?”

Giving me a sly smile, she walks backward on the dock toward the trail that leads up the cliff, and I groan again.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this shit.”

She laughs. “There’s something liberating about facing your fears, Briggs, no matter how big or small they are.”

“Yeah, right,” I grumble.

When I catch up to her, she slides her hand in mine and squeezes gently, reassuring me. We stay on the path that leads upwards, and I know better than to look over the side of the cliff because I’ll probably pass out if I do.

The entire way up, I’m pep-talking myself. Telling myself it’s just a fucking cliff, and I can do it. That the entire thing will last five minutes. I can fucking do it. I will fucking do it.

“You okay?”

I nod. “Trying to convince myself that we’re not both going to die.”

She stops and turns toward me, running her hands along the scruff at my cheeks. “I promise you. We’re not going to die. Plus, the view… it’s incredible. You have to see it. And you’ll want to do it again once we do it the first time.”

“Doubtful.”

Finally, after a twenty-minute walk to the top we reach the ledge, that overlooks the entire lake. You can see for what looks like miles, over the tops of the trees.

“Hell,” I curse.

“Let’s sit?”

“Fuck yes, please,” I mutter.

We find a spot that’s a decent distance from the edge, which immediately makes me feel better.

Maddison giggles when she slides her hand in mine and feels the clamminess. “I’m sorry for teasing you about coming up here.”

“I’m fine. Just not a fan of heights, that’s all.”

“I’ll tell you another one of my fears, and I give you full permission to laugh at me because I know it’s ridiculous,” she says, looking over at me, her long blonde hair falling in a curtain around her shoulders.

“I doubt I’ll laugh, but fine, make me feel better about it.”

“Jack in the box.”

My shoulders shake with laughter. “Like, the fast-food chain?”

“Oh my god, no, like the old toy from like the fifties where you turn the crank and the thing pops out and scares you. I swear, I don’t understand why you would even get children that creepy thing.”

"Okay, I admit those things are weird. I think my grandma had one when she was younger and she kept it as like an heirloom or some shit, except none of us would ever touch it when we came over.”

“See!” she exclaims, laughing. “At least I’m not the only one. I feel better now.”

I rub my thumb along her hand in soft, gentle circles. We both peer out into the distance, comfortable just being… being together, in each other’s presence, not in any rush to let the moment pass us by. I can say it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever felt so connected with a woman, so effortlessly.

“What scares you the most?”

I mull over my answer before responding. My fears weren’t all stereotypical, like heights or spiders, most of them were internal fears that I continued to battle going forward each day. A direct result of the past few years of my life.

“Failure. Loving someone with everything I have only for them to betray me,” I whisper.

I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to love anyone and give them all of me again. Not after everything I’ve endured. I don’t know if I have it in me to ever fully trust another person.

I hate it. I hate that they did this to me, made me so unwilling to trust anyone because I’d been hurt so badly.

“Trust is hard. Been there, done that,” she says, “Remember that problem I didn’t want to talk about?”

I nod.

“My best friend and I got into a fight over something that turned into something much bigger, and things were said that can’t be taken back, and it hurts. All of it hurts, even though it was only said in anger. You can’t unsay things, even if they were only said because you were hurt,” she says quietly, her eyes taking on sadness.