Page 15 of Pucking Revenge

“Then come.”

She nibbles on that bottom lip of hers, considering.

I force myself to look away. It’s what I always do when she does something that makes me want to kiss her. I have no poker face when it comes to Sara. It’s impossible to hide the longing that hits me like a punch to the gut when she pulls that lip between her teeth or when she laughs or gives me one of those soft smiles. It’s better this way. Safer. Because she certainly isn’t looking back at me in any sort of way.

“Okay, I think I will. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” I point to the clicker, signaling that she should start the show, but I continue to keep my gaze averted. Two seconds after she hits Play, I’m talking again. “You going to tell me why you wanted to come back to my place?”

She glares up at me. Sara hates when I talk during movies or shows, but it’s virtually impossible not to. I never run out of things to say to her. Why waste that time zoned out on a screen when I could be listening to her adorably insane ramblings?

When I drop my chin and stare at her, refusing to cower, she relents. With a huff, she rolls her eyes. “Got in a fight with the boyfriend. Don’t feel like dealing with him tonight.”

My stomach sinks at the mention of the other man in her life. The one I like to pretend doesn’t exist. I’m not sure why she’s hiding him or allowing him to hide her. All I know is that if I were dating a girl like Sara, I’d make sure the world knew she was mine.

I use one finger to gently sweep a piece of hair from her face and swallow thickly. Her blue eyes hold so much hope. As if she’s counting on me to respond in a way that will make her feel better.

Wanting to say the right thing, to be the person she needs in this moment, weighs heavily on me, even as I keep my tone light. “You can always come here. Always.” I don’t look away, and I don’t stop stroking her hair. I want her to feel just how sincere I am.

The softest smile stretches across her pretty face. “You’re the best, Brooks. One of the greats.” With that, she shifts onto her side, but she keeps her head in my lap. “Now be quiet and fall in love with Pacey with me.”

I lean back and let out a chuckle, determined to enjoy this angsty teen drama with my favorite person.

Problem is that with her in my arms like this, Pacey is not the one I’m falling for.

FIVE

SARA

Something is poking me in the goddamn eye. “Stop,” I whine, pushing it back. Whatever it is snaps back at me, hitting me in the nose. What the fuck?

Forcing my eyes open, I growl and grasp the object that had the audacity to smack me in the face. I’ve got my fingers curled tightly around it when the fog of sleep releases me. My heart lurches, and I gasp in extreme horror, because holy hell, I am groping my best friend’s oversized woody.

“What the fuck?” Brooks rasps above me.

At the sound of his voice, I pounce from my position. Only I forget to drop said over engorged cock.

Brooks yelps as I pull him with me. “Let go of my dick,” he says slowly, his brows pulled low and his jaw clenched tight.

I splay my fingers wide and yank my hand back, gaping in shame. “I’m—oh God—I’m so sorry. Is your penis okay?”

Adjusting himself with one hand, he winces. “You had me in a vise grip. What the hell, Sar?”

I’m going to die of embarrassment. I slink off the couch, all but melting into the fabric and onto the floor—slowly, as if maybe he’ll forget I was even here—and consider army crawling my way to the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice is less raspy, like he’s more awake. He’s bent in half, eyeing me where I lie on the floor.

I can only imagine how ridiculous I look, in a heap below him, my hair a wreck and my mascara probably smudged, since he poked me in the eye with his damn monster dick.

“What am I doing?” I slap a hand to my chest. “What the hell do you have in your pants? You should be required to have a goddamn license to carry that thing.”

Brooks’s expression is blank, and he’s silent for one second, then two. The silence drags. Three, four, five. And then it happens. That glorious laugh escapes him. It’s deep and rumbles all the way up his chest. It’s the kind that makes his face all squishy because he’s so overly happy.

And it’s because of me.

Despite my utter mortification, I can’t help but beam. It’s impossible not to when his green eyes are so full of joy. Brooks sticks his hand out, and when I grasp it, he hauls me to my feet. With a satisfied sigh, he clasps my waist and guides me until I’m seated on the couch. Then, with a shake of his head, he stands and steps away.

My smile morphs into a frown. “Where you going?”

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