Page 77 of These Pucking Boys

Her face becomes red. “Half an hour ago.”

So easily flustered. I love it.

“And where are you off to now?”

“I need to get my car from the garage. They called when I was out with Winston.”

“They’re open on Sunday?”

“Yeah, just until noon.”

Here’s the opportunity I was looking for, delivered to me on a silver platter.Thank you, providence.

“Did you call an Uber?”

“Yeah. It’ll be here in seven minutes.”

“Cancel it. I’ll take you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to.” I give her my most dazzling smile, and it works like a charm. June’s eyes drop to my lips, and I bet she’s thinking about the last time we kissed. It’s been too fucking long.

She looks into my eyes again, but her brows are furrowed. “But aren’t you going somewhere?”

“Just the gym. I have time.”

She clenches her jaw and looks away. “I don’t want to impose.”

Shit. Did I fuck up already with her?

“Do you not want to spend time with me?”

Hell, I sound pathetic and desperate.

“What?” She laughs nervously. “That’s not it.”

The elevator door opens at street level, and June steps forward, but I stop her and turn her to me. “I don’t buy it. Did I do something, Peaches?”

She can’t hold my stare for more than a second and drops her gaze to my chest. “You did nothing.”

It finally occurs to me she might have seen me with Mackenzie at the party and drawn the wrong conclusion.

I pinch June’s chin between my thumb and forefinger and lift her face so I can look into her eyes. “Is this about the woman that was with me last night?”

“Ryan... you don’t owe me any explanation.”

I’ll take her reply as a yes. I had no intention of ever talking to anyone about Mackenzie, least of all June. But thanks to that brat’s ambush, I have no choice.

“I want to explain nonetheless.” The elevator stops at the garage, and I tug June’s hand. “Come on. I’ll tell you on the way.”

She lets me steer her to the car and remains quiet, waiting for me to speak. I drive out of the garage first to buy time.

“Did you change your mind about telling me?” June asks after a while.

“No. I’m sorry. It’s not something I like to talk about.” I run a hand through my hair. “The woman you saw last night is my mother’s daughter.”

There’s a pause, and June says, “Your sister, then.”

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