Page 20 of A Major Puck Up

So many times.

Fuck. I took my best friend’s daughter’s virginity.

Holy shit.

“Gavin,” Beckett calls when I forget how to do anything but stare at Millie.

“Breathe,” she mouths, her eyes begging me to keep my shit together.

Holy fuck, this poor girl gave her virginity to her dad’s best friend. She must be freaking out right now.

And she’s probably disgusted.

I want to assure her that I didn’t know. I want to apologize a thousand different ways, but my throat has closed up and my vocal cords have been sliced. So I blink once, twice, and nod to the group. Then I force my feet to take me back to Beckett. As I drop into my usual seat, my mind races and the lead ball in my gut grows.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Beckett growls.

Yeah, my brother growls. It’s a daily occurrence. I really don’t have time for his normal attitude, though. I’m in crisis right now.

“How old was the youngest girl you’ve ever fucked?” I hiss.

“What?” Beckett rears back, brows pulled low. “I didn’t—I don’t—what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Twenty-one? Twenty-two?”

“What the hell is happening to you?”

“Tell me.”

Beckett runs a hand through his hair. “When I was younger, sure. But no, women that age don’t really do it for me.” He shrugs like that answers that.

Millie Hall is twenty-two. It threw me when she told me, but at the same time, it didn’t. I knew she was young when she sat next to me in the bar. Knew she couldn’t be over twenty-five, and while yeah, normally the women I sleep with are older than that, we clicked. She’s mature and sophisticated. Or maybe I’m just an old pervert who is attracted to his best friend’s daughter and I need my head examined.

More like your dick, asshole. Because both were involved in everything that happened last night, and they’re both attracted to Millie.

And my heart. On cue, a sharp pain in my chest causes me to hunch over. Fuck. It wasn’t just sex. I liked her.

A lot.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on with you?” Beckett asks as the plane starts down the runway.

I’m gripping the seat so tightly my knuckles are turning white. Beckett notices and eyes me with nothing but concern on his face.

“I just—fuck, I called Millie Hall a puck bunny.”

In an instant, that worried expression morphs into a smirk. “That’s what has you all worked up?” He rubs at his jaw and chuckles. “She’s probably used to idiots saying shit like that. Her brother’s played hockey all his life.”

Her brother. Daniel. Right. Because she’s Millie Hall. Why can’t I stop calling her that in my head?

She rests her elbow on her armrest and tilts to one side so she can see me.

“I’m so sorry,” I mouth.

“She looks like she’s forgiven you,” Beckett says. “Calm down and tell me about your night.”

She straightens, and I close my eyes, unable to stomach the thought of last night right now.

Somehow, someway, I need to forget every minute of it. I need to forget the way she tastes. The way she moans. The way she feels.

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