Page 45 of Falling for the Pucking Bad Boy

Wells exhales slowly, his anger losing its edge. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" I echo, the irony not lost on me. “You’re fucking up a lot lately, aren’t you?”

"Yeah, Rory, I am." His admission is soft, and I can feel his resolve waning. “I’ll sit here like a good boy and wait for you to come out.”

“You’re going to be lucky if I ever come out.”

Wells’s green eyes harden. “You think that was bad? I’ve been so pissed off lately. I’ve been taking it out on everyone.”

“Wells—”

“I wanna fix this.” He erases some space between us, and my skin warms at his proximity. That he’s here and I missed him. So much. “I want you. That hasn’t changed. Nothing for me has changed other than how sorry I am.”

I want to believe him. I do.

But I can’t.

He got caught, and he has no room to deny anything.

And that’s fine.

We stopped before we began, which seems to be a trend for me and hockey players. I shouldn’t be dating them or going behind my dad’s back fucking them, either. They think they can do whatever they want because of their status and get away with it.

I’m not dealing with it.

“Get your thoughts and words together,” I assert evenly. “Because you’ll have ten minutes of my time, and that’s it.”

Wells bows his head. “Alright, baby.”

Then he is silent, and the air between us is thick with tension and uncertainty.

I hate that.

Before Wells and my good Samaritan act to save him from punching Charles Gagnon, I was set in life. I had my job, my little place that was all mine, and a well-put-together routine.

I should have minded my own business.

14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

WELLS

As I linger in the lobby, the tick of a clock that exists only in my head grates on my patience.

An hour trickles past, its weight measured in rehearsed apologies and all the right words to be said. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want Rory.

This shit has to work.

And, if it doesn’t, I’m not done yet. There’s no way I’m giving up that easy. This overwhelming pull I have towards her is not something you walk away from. People talk about chemistry, connection, about finding that one person who gets you—it’s all bullshit until you’re standing in it, feeling it. It’s like gravity shifted with Rory, and suddenly, she’s the only ground I want to stand on.

This shit has to work.

The thought is a mantra in my head. Failure isn't an option because every hardship is worth overcoming with her. Rory's gotten into my veins, and just like that muscle in my chest, I want to function without having her in my life.

And, if any of this doesn't work out the way I want it to—I’m not done. There's no way I'm done. When it comes to Rory, what we have 'never done' isn't just about holding on. It's about knowing that some things in life are worth every effort, every setback, and every moment of uncertainty. It's about fighting for what truly matters.

If that leads to the kind of turbulent love that novels are written about, then so be it. I'm ready to turn every page, every chapter because I'll never be finished with Rory.

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