Sincerely, The Puck Bunny (Totally Pucked #2)(98)

“Yeah, of course.” I place my hands on her waist, ignoring the feel of her silky skin beneath my touch, and hoist her into the back seat of the truck. Definitely not taking a glimpse at her ass as she did so.

Nope. Absolutely not. I wouldn’t. Scout’s honor.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself. This is bad. Obviously I should've picked a bunny and gone home with her, since I’m suddenly lusting after my little sister’s best friend.

It’s probably just an off night, and definitely a fluke.

Definitely.

Em falls asleep before I even pull away from the curb. She’s slumped awkwardly against the window, drool pooling in the corner of her mouth. I should snap a picture, so I can torture her with it later.

I grin at the thought.

The entire drive back to my house, I force myself to focus on the road, and not drag my eyes to the rearview mirror where Holland’s perched in the back seat, directly in my line of vision.

I only stole a few glances, and I didn’t think she noticed until our eyes connected in the mirror and something… different passes through our gaze.

Fuck, what is happening?

Tearing my gaze from hers, I fumble with the radio and turn it up to distract myself for the remainder of the drive. Once I pull into the driveway and come to a stop, Emery flies forward and her eyes pop open.

“What happened? What did I miss?”

Holland laughs her ass off at Emery’s sudden outburst, and then Em’s slumping back against the seat and letting out a soft snore.

“I’m not claiming her,” I mutter as I hop out of the truck, then open Holland’s door. She places her hand in mine and I help her out before going around to grab Em. It’s a whole damn production to get her into the house and up the stairs, but thank fuck, Holland takes over once we make it to the guest room.

They disappear through the door, and I head to my room and take a lightning-fast shower and throw on a pair of grey sweats and a faded black tee before walking back out to the hallway. Holland’s leaning against the wall next to the door, scrolling on her phone. She’s shed the heels and is standing barefoot now.

“Hey, uh, do you need something to sleep in? I have a shirt and some boxers I can give you?”

She jumps, clearly startled. “Holy crap, I didn’t even hear you come up. Yes, that would be great.”

I nod, and go back to my room, grabbing her an old hockey shirt and a pair of boxers. This is the first time since probably high school that I’ve slept in the same house as Holland, and it definitely feels nothing like it did back then.

Walking back out to the hallway, I hand her the clothes, and she smiles shyly before taking them from me.

“Shower’s over there. If you need something, just let me know.”

“Thanks, Reed. I mean for letting us stay here, but also thanks for coming to get us.”

I shrug. “It’s nothing. I’d rather pick you two up then have you take an Uber home when Em can hardly hold her head up. I appreciate that you thought enough to call me. Night, Holland.”

“Goodnight.”

I walk back toward my room and I hear the guest bathroom door shut behind me and the water turn on. And now what am I definitely not going to do? Think about her naked on the other side of that door.

That’s what I tell myself for the next two hours as I toss and turn. From one side to the other, sleep evading me. I put my pillow over my head and groan. Finally, I just give up.

Fuck it. When you can’t sleep… the remedy is always cereal.

Don’t tell my coach that, and definitely not the trainer, but sugar cures everything. Especially in high doses of Captain Crunch.

My secret though.

I toss the blanket aside and crack my door open quietly, careful not to wake Em and Holl, and tiptoe down the hallway into the kitchen. I grab a bowl, the box of cereal from the pantry and open the fridge to get the milk.

“Reed?” A whispered voice comes from behind me, scaring the fuck out of me so badly that I send the milk flying across the island, where it lands with a wet squelch, puddling around the now-busted carton.

Goddamnit.

Holland’s staring at me with wide eyes. Her hair is down and messy, obviously disheveled from sleep.

“Holy fuck, Holland, you scared the shit out of me!” I grunt. My heart’s still racing in my chest.

Damn Reed, you’re turning into a pussy.

She starts laughing, quietly at first, placing her hand over her mouth when she sees the milk spilled on the floor.

"I’m so… sor-ry,” she says through her laugh. I walk across the room to where both she and the milk are, grabbing the towel from the counter before bending down to clean it up.

Then her laugh is gone, replaced by a sharp hiss, and when I look up and see her thick thighs staring back at me, I realize what she’s wearing…

Nothing but my t-shirt and fuck, nothing has ever looked so good. The dark shirt hits her mid-thigh, covering all of the good stuff, still leaving enough covered for my imagination to do the rest.

I clear my throat and stand abruptly, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, and she steps back.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Holland, I didn’t realize.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

We both speak at the same time.

“Uh, sometimes when I can’t sleep… I eat a bowl of-”