Page 48 of Mind Pucked

“My mom didn’t text me,” I admit, but then her face creases with concern and I have to think of something, anything that might help me out here.

“Then why in the world would you lie to me?” she asks, shock creasing her forehead.

“I just…” I mumble a little, sure this is going to sound bad no matter how I deliver it. “Felix is baiting you,” I blurt out.

“Baiting me?” she asks, but now irritation has replaced the confusion.

“I mean, this is his game.” I try to change my wording.

“Teaching me to play pool is a…game?” she asks.

“No, teaching you to play pool while filling you full of drinks he buys you, and putting his hands all over you in the name of being a good coach,” I growl, and I know I sound possessive.

“Oh,” she says, realization on her face. “OH…you’re jealous.”

“I am not,” I bite back. “I just don’t want other guys buying you drinks and putting their hands on you is all. It doesn’t look good, and that’s how I lost my last nanny.”

“Okay, I see how it is. You’re worried about losing your help.” She isn’t mad—she’s laughing at me.

Her laugh starts small and then bubbles up, becoming loud and infectious. I don’t know why she’s laughing, but it makes me smile hearing her do so, and soon I’m joining in.

“Why are we laughing?” I wonder as it dies down a little.

“If you don’t want other guys buying me drinks…then buy me one yourself,” she says as she playfully turns and smacks me with her hair.

She saunters over to the other side of the room and plants her ass in one of the bar stools. Felix has already moved on to someone else. He wraps his arms around the busty blonde who he’s now teaching how to play pool.

I roll my eyes as make my way over to where Amelia is sitting, and I take the stool next to her.

“Rum and coke,” I say to the bartender, and then point to Amelia. “And whatever the beautiful woman beside me wants.”

“I’ll take the same,” Amelia says, sending me a smile. “See, was that all that hard?”

“No,” I grumble, though I’m smiling too.

11

AMELIA

My mind is feeling a little fuzzy as I sip on my drink. I’ve lost count of how many shots I’ve had through the night. The only thing I do know is that between the hockey game and the bar, I’ve had a blast.

It’s almost made me forget my true reasons for being here. I know I should be focused on my brother and nothing more than that, but it’s hard when I’m having fun with Jackson and his motley crew of friends…of brothers.

He’s probably right about Felix—he and his new blonde friend are already entangled in a lip-lock. I roll my eyes as I look back to Jackson.

“I watched your little dart game,” he says to me, and I smile at him. “You made a lot of people a lot of money with that game.”

“I saw money being passed around but I didn’t know they were placing bets.” I giggle, flattered to know that people bet on me.

“Turns out no one suspected you would be a pro,” he teases, and I blush a little out of habit.

My body heats and I don’t know if it’s the drink or something else that’s causing me to feel this way. Either way, all I can think about is Jackson’s lips and how kissable they look. I won’t act on that though…not in front of his teammates.

“So, where did you learn to play like that?” he asks, and I stifle a shudder.

“My brother taught me,” I say, but I don’t add anything else.

“That’s great. Not a soul has beat Oliver…ever,” he adds, and I’m glad he hasn’t pushed on the brother topic.

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