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Authors: Helena Hunting

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BOOK: PUCKED Up
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I get a message back almost instantly.

 

WTH? Y r U at frat dorm?

 

I read the text and frown, then hit the text-to-speech function so I can listen to it, because it’s half random letters instead of words. I know she’s angry, but I should be able to make things better. I’m pretty decent at cleaning up messes, except for when I was traded to Chicago. There wasn’t anything I could do to cover up that one. The pictures of me and the coach’s niece in the bathroom stall went viral in a hurry.

The sexy British chick in my phone reads the words
frat dorm
back to me instead of
front door
. Jesus. That’s what I get for not listening before I send something.

 

Sory. Attocorect. Front Door. Please let me in.

 

I figure short and to the point works better.

I crouch down and open the mail slot. Andy stops pacing and sticks his nose through the hole. “Hey, buddy. Can you go get Sunny for me and bring her down here? Go get Sunny. Go get ’er. Go on.” He runs to the stairs and looks back at me. “Good boy. Go get her for me. I got more treats if you bring Sunny.”

He turns toward the stairs and barks a few times, then runs back to the door and sticks his nose up to the mail slot.


Ya gotta get ’er.” It only takes a little more coaxing before he finally runs up the stairs. But he comes up and down twice more without her, so I ring the doorbell and knock.

Sunny’s light on her feet, so the only way I know she’s coming down is because she yells, “For doody’s sake! I’m coming. Stop it, Andy! I’m answering the door.”

I grin. Sunny doesn’t swear. It’s fucking adorable.

The light in the front foyer turns on, and the door swings open. Andy rushes me, jumping up so his paws are on my shoulders and his nose is level with mine. I don’t turn away when he licks my face.


How’s my buddy?” I scratch behind his ears. “Good boy. You’re a good boy.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out a treat. He gets into position, sitting on his haunches with his nose in the air. I set the treat on the end of his nose. He adjusts his stance but waits until I give him the go ahead. Then he flips it up, catching it in his mouth.

Sunny stands at the threshold, looking unimpressed, one hand propped on her hip. Titus hides behind her ankles. There’s a good chance he’ll pee on the floor if he gets too anxious.

Sunny’s sandy blond hair is lighter than the last time I saw her, with streaks so pale they’re almost white. It’s pulled up into a messy ponytail. She’s wearing a pair of loose shorts and a T-shirt with a unicorn in a forest on it. I’m nine thousand percent sure she’s not wearing a bra, but I’m smart enough not to stare at her chest.

Her soft, usually pouty lips are mashed into a line and turned down at the corners. Her eyes are puffy. Her sun-freckled cheeks are blotchy and red. And she’s still absolutely beautiful.

She’s been crying. It’s my fault.


It’s too late for Andy to have treats.”


I’m sorry.” I shift from one foot to the other.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re not forgiven.”


It was just a couple of cookies.” Andy sits on my foot and nudges my pocket with his nose. There’s another biscuit in there, and he knows it.


I don’t care about the dog treats!”


Right. Of course. I’m sorry I missed my flight. I got the time wrong. I thought I was supposed to fly at nine, not six. My phone fell in the toilet, so I couldn’t check to make sure. We had to put it in a bag of rice for most of the day to dry it out. The rice worked, though, so that’s good, right?” I get silence, so I tack on, “Amber’s on vacation, and you know how I am with dates and stuff.”

Her jaw tics. Nothing I’ve said seems to be making this better. If anything, she looks angrier since I started talking.


Andy, inside.” She has to say it twice more and snap her fingers before he obeys. For a second I think this means she’s going to let me in, but she widens her stance and bars my way with her arm across the jamb.

This is going to take way more than a sweet talking to get out of. I should’ve had one of the gifts Amber picked up in my hands. Like the basket of organic treats—that would’ve been smart. Even flowers and chocolate, or that chocolate substitute Sunny eats, would’ve been helpful. Instead I have myself and my mouth to fix the problem.


You think I’m upset because you’re a few hours late? I expect you to be late. I don’t think
on time
even exists in your world.”


Well, I—it’s not . . . I try to be on time. Amber’s away.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Your PA being away is not an excuse, Miller, and it doesn’t explain the hooker bunnies hanging all over you, snapping their selfies today!” I think she’s mixing up the term
hockey hooker
, which Vi taught her, with
puck bunnies
.

Usually when I deal with a jealous honey, I say a few nice things and smooth it all over. Orgasms work well. Lots of them. I need a different strategy this time. Sunny isn’t in this for the sex. Instead of digging myself out of this hole, I say something stupid, proving words definitely aren’t my forte.


You know how the fans are.”


The fans? The
fans
? What fan draws a penis on your forehead? You were naked! And there was some hooker bunny in that bed with you! It’s all over Instagram. It’s on my Facebook now! Who is she? Were you with her?”


I was passed out. I didn’t even know she was in there with me.”


Who took the picture? What if that had been a tattoo? It would’ve been permanent.”


I don’t think I would’ve slept through a tattoo. Especially not on my face.”


Ugh!” She goes to shut the door, but I slide my arm in before she can.

Sunny’s a yoga instructor; she’s stronger than she looks. It’s a lot of pressure on my forearm.


Sweets, come on. Things get taken out of context. I was hanging with Lance and Randy. He invited some friends over.”

She makes a disgusted sound.


They’re not bad guys; Lance just likes parties. He invited a bunch of people by, and you know how that goes. You invite a few people who invite a few more people . . . I can’t control what he does.”


Oh, right! Of course that explains why a naked hooker bunny ended up in your lap.”


No one was naked, Sunny.”


Pretty darn close!” She holds her phone up in front of my face. It’s the picture of the girl sitting in my lap. There really isn’t much to her outfit: a tiny bikini top and a pair of little shorts. The fact that I’m shirtless doesn’t make it look any better.

She turns the phone around and swipes angrily across the screen, then holds it back up for me to see. “And last time I checked,
this
counts as being naked.”

It’s the picture of me, asleep in bed with that stupid dick on my forehead. I’m definitely naked there.


I wasn’t conscious.”


Because you passed out drunk. Wanna know how I know?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “You called me last night. Do you even remember that? I bet you don’t.”


I remember calling you.”


No, you don’t.”


Yes, I do. I told you I wanted to hear your voice.” I’m guessing here, but it’s pretty safe. I always want to hear her voice. At least I do when she’s not pissed off at me.


There was more to the conversation than that.”


I’ve been on the road all day. Can I come in so we can talk about this? I rebooked my flight so I could get here tonight. You haven’t answered any of my calls. There’s two sides to every story. You haven’t even heard mine yet. Please.”

She takes several deep breaths. “There’s three sides to every story.”


What do you mean?”


There’s your version, the other person’s, and then there’s the truth, which is somewhere in the middle of the two.”

I think about that. She’s right, in a way. But in the case of the dick picture, my version is missing the whole part where the event took place, being passed out and all. The girl in my lap is a case of her word against mine.


Are you willing to hear my side?” I give her my best I’m-sorry face.

Eventually she steps away from the door and lets me in, locking it behind her.

Sunny still lives with her parents. She’s only twenty, and she’s in school. She’s already completed a diploma of general arts and science, and she got her yoga certification. Last year she started a Public Relations program. She’s great with people and animals and all sorts of stuff, so whatever she decides to do, I’m sure she’ll be awesome.

This summer Sunny’s teaching yoga part-time and volunteering at an animal shelter. Thankfully her parents, Robbie and Daisy, are out of town for the weekend, so I don’t have to deal with them. It’s not that I don’t like them. I do. They’re cool for parents, but they’re the only ones I’ve ever met on purpose, so I don’t have much of a basis for comparison. Her mom, Daisy, likes to be involved in everything, so her not being here means I can focus on making things better with Sunny without any interference.

I glance around the front foyer. The Waters’ house is dated. Most of the furniture is new, but the curtains are poufy, and there are a lot of knickknacks. None of the colors seem to belong together. Vi calls it a boxing match between a bohemian gypsy and a southern belle. I’m not sure what that means, but it’s hard to look at.

I set my bag down by the front door. Sunny’ll let me stay the night. I already know this. She’s too sweet to make me leave once she’s let me in. I think it might be the Canadian in her. The question is, where will I be sleeping? If I can say the right thing, I might get a spot in her bed. If I don’t, I’ll be taking the spare room.


Can I use the bathroom?” I’ve had to go for the past hour.


You know where it is.” She doesn’t make a move to touch me, or hug me, so I take off my shoes—something Canadians seem hung up about—and head down the hall.

The main-floor bathroom is small, so there isn’t much to help me out in the freshening-up area. I find mouthwash under the sink and rinse with that. I’ve been wearing my hat since I got out of the shower, so I have to wet my hair to fix the hat head I’m sporting. My armpits could use a shot of Axe, but it’s not as bad as it could be. Another shower would help. I find some Lady Speed Stick and rub it under my pits. I smell like flowers and cucumbers, but it’s better than BO, so I’ll take it.

Sunny isn’t in the living room when I come out. I detour to the kitchen; she isn’t in there either. After a tour of the main floor, I come up Sunnyless, so I hit the stairs. I hope she hasn’t gone to bed. That would suck. I don’t like unresolved issues, especially before bed—it interferes with sleep. Her door is open a crack.

I peek around the jamb in time to get a glimpse of side boob before she pulls a sports bra over her head. Then she goes back to digging through her drawer to find a shirt.

Sunny isn’t one of those super-skinny girls. She’s got curves, and she’s taller than average. I still have a good head on her, but she comes up to my chin. She’s active, always out biking or hiking or teaching yoga, so she’s in awesome shape, and she’s extra bendy. I haven’t had a chance to find out exactly how bendy, but I plan to. Hopefully soon. Maybe this weekend. Shit. I’m getting hard. The blood in my head needs to stay where it is so I can have a conversation. I move out of her line of sight and knock, calling her name.


Just a sec.” The rustle of fabric makes me sad. A few seconds later she opens the door.

She’s changed into some loose, sporty, sheer tank-top thing. It’s meant to be worn with something underneath it. Her chest is significantly flatter than usual, thanks to the sports bra. I’m not a boob man. Well, I guess that’s not true. Every heterosexual man loves boobs. I don’t care about the size of them. As long as there’s a nipple and something to hold on to, I’m happy.

My favorite part of a woman’s body is legs. Sunny’s still wearing loose shorts that come high up on her thigh. I glance down, all the way to the floor. Her toenails are painted bright orange, except for the big toes. Those are painted blue with a palm tree on the beach.

I’m about to step inside her room, which I’ve only been in once before, when Sunny puts a hand on my chest. She doesn’t seem as angry anymore, instead she looks sad and guarded. “We can talk downstairs.”


Right. Sure. That’s cool. I couldn’t find you; I wasn’t sure if you’d gone back to bed.”


I wanted to change into something more comfortable.”

BOOK: PUCKED Up
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