Page 43 of Puck Shy

Lucas says something in his sleep that I can’t make out, and I allow myself a quiet moment to watch him. In this relaxed state, his face is serene. He’s just as pretty if not prettier like this. But unlike his brother, Leo, he’s a little less put-together pretty. I’d say he’s more…effortlessly pretty, if that makes sense?

Not that Leo isn’t as pretty as he is, but Lucas doesn’t have the five-step skin care routine Leo has nor does he wear Armani suits. Instead, Lucas likes those goddamn gray sweatpants that make lady parts melt with any kind of T-shirt or hoodie. He’s much simpler. Easier going.

Over the last two months of working for him, I’ve seen his true self, the man who’s caring, loyal, funny, and smart. The man who makes great business decisions and has a heart of gold. He’s the kind of man who would give up his aisle or window seat on an airplane for someone who needed it—even after paying the extra to board first.

I gently run my fingers through his inky hair and think of what it would be like to let myself try a relationship with him. What it would be like to travel with him on the road indefinitely and wake up to him in the morning. The idea has my stomach filling with erratic butterflies. Which is funny, because that idea once terrified me. Now, it sounds…exciting?

I can’t even use my excuse from before anymore. Because last night, Lucas gave me what I want. What I said I need: sexual freedom, kink, and the ability to explore without judgment. I know firsthand that it takes a secure person to share a sexual partner and an even more secure person to share someone they like with another.

Two months ago, I wasn’t sure he could do that without jealousy or regret. But now?

Maybe I’m the one who’s been judgmental. The one who couldn’t see through her own bullshit. As I watch his chest rise and fall in sleep, his words from last night ring in my ears:

You don’t know what I want, Stevie. You’ve never asked me…I told you I want you. I want you, Stevie.

And he showed me how much. Not only tonight, but by hiring me and remaining professional like I asked. Until last night, of course, when I gave him permission…but I’m glad it finally bubbled over. All because of Johnny and his stupid jersey. And because Lucas heard me call his name while taking a bath. I can’t believe I left the door open!

I flop gently back on the bed and throw my hand over my eyes.

I have no idea how I’m going to look at the rookie’s face today. I know he saw me and Lucas have sex on Valentine’s Day, but he didn’t touch me. Last night, he had his face in my pussy and his fingers inside both my holes for at least a solid hour. I’m also positive that I transferred my “blue balls” to him. Though I’m sure he had a fun date night with his hand after he and Lucas practically carried me to bed.

Once I take a few calming breaths, I decide I can worry about facing Johnny later. I remove my arm and look around the room. This is definitely my room since I can see makeup on the vanity and it’s a lot smaller than Lucas’s.

With the urge to pee in the forefront of my mind, I get up in search of my phone. That’s when I realize I’m not completely naked. I’m wearing a giant Vancouver jersey, which is probably from the equipment room we were in. The guys must’ve wanted to vomit when they put this on me, but it must’ve been either that or bring me back buck-naked considering Lucas shredded Johnny’s jersey. Which—holy fucking hell—that was hot. Possessive. But hot.

After a few minutes of looking, I find my pants with my phone in the back pocket. It’s nearly dead but has enough battery in it to make a phone call. Normally, in a situation where I need advice like this one, I’d call Riley. But she’s a little too close to this for the conversation I’m about to have.

I make my way into the bathroom, close the door, and proceed to pee and wash my hands before I sit in the bathtub and close the shower curtain in an attempt to block the sound so I don’t wake Lucas. Then I find Nia’s contact and hit call. It rings several times before a groggy voice picks up. That’s when I realize I didn’t even look at the time.

“It’s not even eight am yet, Stevie. If you’re not dying, let me call you back later.”

I chuckle. “Sorry. I didn’t check the time before I called.”

She sighs. “Are you dying?”

“No, I’m not. But this is a dire situation.”

“How dire? Like you’re in jail and need to be bailed out or you fucked your boss?”

“He’s not technically my boss,” I try.

“Ah, so you finally caved and fucked Golden Boy again.”

“Well, not really fucked. He did fuck my mouth and come all over me but no penetration.”

This time she chuckles. “You’re something else, Gorgeous.”

My heart squeezes at her endearment for me, and I’m reminded of how much I miss her. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t seen her much. We’ve gotten coffee once, but it was brief, and I’d almost missed the flight to New Jersey because we’d talked for so long. She’d given me shit then about my hang-ups over Lucas, but just like when Riley got on my case about it, I shut her down.

I use my free hand to play with a lock of my messy hair, which resembles a bird’s nest. “I need your advice, Nia. Like, serious-time advice.”

“On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“Will you listen this time?”

I shrug even though she can’t see me. “I’ll try.”

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