Page 9 of The Pucking Grump

I jump, my arms erupting in goosebumps. He’s staring straight at me because he caught me looking at him. Is he asking me if I want to do that? Something about his question makes me forget every other thing going on. That I’m a bride on the run and my life is unraveling around me as we speak.

The only memory that comes to mind is one from this morning, when I stood in my room, accepting that I would never get to experience sex with anyone but Ben for the rest of my life. Wondering if sex with him is all it’s cracked up to be.

I steal another glance at Blake. I don’t know why, but I’m convinced that he would be different. That he would want me harder. With more feeling.

That thought causes another surge of fluid down there.

I should be put off by this, I tell myself. Sure, I ran away from my wedding. But it’s sick for him to even consider asking me if I want to get down with him while I am still in my wedding gown.

I feel none of that. I’m almost expectant. I’ve read stories from women who claimed that sex had been enough to upend their universe and give them more pleasure than they ever thought possible.

Maybe this is what I need to get over the stress of today.

“Uh . . .”

His gaze is stern, unfeeling. And then he walks over to the phone and holds up the receiver.

“You know what I’m asking, right? If you want to use the phone?”

I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my entire life.

I stare at the floor in front of my feet, taking shallow breaths. Of course. Of fucking course. Even if Blake might be attracted to me—and the proof is in the pudding on that matter—there’s no way he’d ask to make love to me.

Not today. Maybe not ever, judging by how little he thinks of me.

And if he was to eventually decide that he wants me after all, he certainly would not ask.

He would take.

My pulse is thundering in my throat.

“Yeah,” I say, looking back up, deciding to stash my humiliation away. His blue eyes hold the tiniest speck of amusement, as if he knows where my thoughts went.

I decide to ignore that. Once again, I need to remember that I have more important things to worry about.

I trudge past the couch and make it to where he’s standing, holding the receiver. But before I can take it from him, he holds it above my head.

Irritation grows in me. Yeah, he’s handsome. But he’s also a dick.

“Who are you going to call?”

Realizing I didn’t even think of that makes me bite my lip. It feels embarrassing to admit I have no clue, so I stay quiet. The obvious answer should be my dad, but I’m not quite ready to do that. I’m not over his actions this morning, how he was so willing to push me into a loveless marriage to preserve the route by which he makes money.

Blake sighs, making no move to hide how frustrated he is. Finally, he mutters, “Call Kevin. I have his number in this phonebook.” He jabs at it with one finger. “He’s going to give you a decent amount of information about what happened at the party, and he’s not going to freak out about me since he knows who I am.”

I swallow and nod. Kevin worked at the agency I started off with as a relatively unknown singer. He didn’t directly represent me, but we bonded over being youngsters in a world of celebs. Even if my dad changed agencies a couple of times after that, Kevin and I maintained a sporadic friendship. He’s one of the few people I trust to keep a secret.

“I’m going into town for some supplies,” Blake says as he hands over the receiver. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

He marches out of the cabin, and I watch him go. I don’t know why, but something about his presence makes me feel safe. I think of the certainty in his hold when we both hit the ground, how he wrapped his arm around me as though he would do anything to keep me from breaking.

Maybe that’s why. Because he definitely would feel a lot better if I weren’t around. But while I’m here, I’m almost certain he’ll do anything to protect me.

I collapse on the couch, my heart racing as I flip through the phonebook and find Kevin’s number. This is my first contact with anyone apart from Blake in hours. I’m scared to find out what happened.

It takes me some time to muster up the courage to make the call. But once I dial Kevin’s number, he picks up on the first ring. There’s a gleeful note in his voice. “Hey there, Blakey. You didn’t show up to this, huh? Just as good, because?—”

“Kevin. It’s me, Faye.”

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