Page 111 of These Pucking Boys

I sit up too fast and regret it. My head is pounding. One of the cats—I can’t tell if it’s Eros or Apollo—glowers at me from the chair opposite the couch.

“What are you staring at?”

Upon hearing my voice, Winston comes over, wanting to play.

“Not now, boy.” I get up and trudge into the kitchen. The clock on the microwave says it’s past nine. June must be at work already. I look for a note, but I don’t find anything. Maybe she texted me. I pat my pockets, trying to find my phone.

“Hell. Did I lose it last night?”

I return to the couch and find the sucker under the cushions. There’s no text from June either, but there are a few from Jake, Lachy, and my other teammates. We won last night. I reply-all with a generic-as-fuck text, and then I massage my temples, regretting my life choices. I’m not one to lose control like I did last night, but the news I received from my brother ripped the rug from underneath my feet. Alcohol obviously didn’t help. I feel as wretched as before, and now I have a hangover on top of it.

And I fucked up with June. I shouldn’t have canceled on her like I did without giving her any explanation. Even though I’ve already shared so much of my past with her, I couldn’t do it last night. As much as I hate not being with her, it’s better this way. I’ll never be the man she deserves.

June

I could have been vindictive this morning and made a lot of noise to wake up Ryan. But I was no longer angry, just sad that I let myself get attached to him. To be fair, he warned me. It’s my fault for being the dumb chick who thinks a man can change for her.

Jake and Lachy texted me earlier to ask if I watched the game. I lied and said yes, but I really caught only the highlights. They won, and I regretted being too tipsy to pay attention.

I don’t see Katrina until lunch time, and only because she comes to my classroom.

“Why are you avoiding my texts, girlie?”

Resting my forehead in my hand, I groan. “I’ve been avoiding all messages.”

She pulls up a chair. “What’s wrong?”

“I drank too much white wine last night.”

“Oh... with Ryan?”

I wince. “No. He bailed on me.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, fuck he didn’t.”

“And last minute, without any explanation. He was the one who invited me to watch the game at his place.” I shake my head. “I can’t even say I was blindsided. He told me on the night we met he wasn’t Prince Charming.”

“Don’t you dare take responsibility for his douchery.”

“I’m not. But I can’t help feeling stupid for lowering my barriers around him. After he canceled on me, he came over at three in the morning, drunk as a skunk.”

“No. Please tell me you didn’t let him in.”

I drop my gaze to my uneaten sandwich. “I did. I was tired and half drunk. It didn’t do any good. He came in and passed out on the couch. He was still sleeping when I left this morning.”

“You didn’t wake him?”

“No.”

“I’d have thrown a bucket of cold water on his head.”

I crack a smile. “The idea crossed my mind, but then I’d have had to clean up the mess. Plus, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.”

Katrina shrugs. “It’s his loss, baby girl. Don’t forget you still have two hunky players who are very much into you.”

My grin broadens. “That’s true. I can’t wait to see them again.”

CHAPTER 47

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