Page 19 of Protector

I get up and walk to the tree line, weaving my way in and out of the trunks, trying to not let my clumsy ass trip over the roots.

My feelings for Puck aren’t exactly a secret. But I also never believed King would openly talk about them to me.

Brushing my fingers through the clematis on the bark, heavy footsteps behind me cause me to jerk my head over my shoulder, but I know it’s Puck before I even have to look.

No one else comes out here; they just know it’s my place.

Our place.

Another thing that has changed considerably are my reactions and behaviour towards him.

Because of how deeply my feelings go, I get almost awkward when he approaches me like this.

Which I hate, because he’s my best friend, but I can’t help it.

“You okay?” he asks, smiling, and instantly, I feel more relaxed.

“Yeah…” I smile back, taking a bite out of my apple to give me something to do. “You?”

His eyes drop to my lips for a couple of seconds, and I try to ignore the fluttering in my tummy, and beg my cheeks to stay a normal colour instead of blushing pink.

“Yeah,” he says back quietly, and then it’s silent again.

Okay, it’s never been like this. As much as I feel awkward in my head, it’s never actually been awkward.

“Bon?” He looks into my eyes, and I nod to show that I’m listening. “What was King talking about?”

My brow furrows.

“When?”

He shuffles forwards a little more.

“He shouted to you just now. “What would you tell Puck?’”

My cheeks heat, and this time I can’t stop it. Now I really don’t know what to say.

I could be honest and take the chance of scaring him away or making things between us different forever. Yes, he might know I have feelings for him, but I’ve never once spoken about them aloud, much less to him.

Or I could lie to him, but then what kind of best friend lies to another?

“It was just a silly joke,” I start, not quite a lie. “He asked me what I was doing today, so I said I was going to go shopping, and when I walked home, I’d bump into a guy.” I shrug my shoulders, trying to act chill about the whole thing.

“A guy?” he asks, standing still a few feet in front of me.

“Yes. I was joking. Said a guy might walk me home and hold my hand.”

At that, my hands start to feel sweaty, and I wipe one on my shorts, and with the other, bring the apple back to my mouth to give me something to do.

Puck stalks even closer, and I feel sick. Like physically sick to my stomach. With excitement or nerves, I’m not sure, but I’m terrified I’m going to actually throw up on him, considering he’s so close now.

I bite into the apple and pull it away, chewing on it slowly so I don’t accidentally choke on it. Right now, that feels like something I would do.

And just as I swallow and go to open my mouth to divert the attention away from whatever is happening, he lifts his right hand, using his thumb to swipe away the juice that has dribbled onto my chin.

My breath catches in my throat, and more than anything, I wish I could lean forwards and kiss him.

What is he doing? Why is he so close to me?

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