Page 136 of Puck Prince

“You’re serious.” It’s not a question, so I don’t bother answering.

I’ve never lived with a woman I wasn’t related to before, but I can picture it with Callie. Nights watching TV on the couch, sleeping in my bed, making coffee and breakfast in the morning. We could start carpooling to work and save the environment. This arrangement would be good for the planet.

“Owen…” She huffs out a breath. “Even if we were dating for real—which we aren’t—living together is a big deal. My uncle almost fired me because we went on a date. If people knew we were living together, they’d all say we are rushing things.”

“Rushing things?” I snort out a laugh. “Callie, we fucked an hour after we met. I don’t think standard relationship timelines apply to us.”

“Because we aren’t in a standard relationship! This—” She gestures back and forth from me to her and back again. “—was supposed to be a one-night stand. If this was a standard one-night stand, I’d never see you again. Or, if I did, I’d pretend I didn’t and walk very quickly in the other direction. You were supposed to blow me off, not invite me to move in!”

“And you were supposed to stay away from hockey players, yet here we are. We work in the same building, go to the same parties, travel together.” I toss up my hands. “Fuck, we might as well just live together.”

She shakes her head. “No. Not gonna happen.”

I only thought of the idea thirty seconds ago, but I’m committed to it now.

“It makes our relationship look more convincing, and honestly, if the nameless perp thinks we are moving this quickly, maybe he’ll back the fuck off.”

“Don’t count on it.” She looks down, defeated.

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t stop,” she grits. “He doesn’t listen or care. He just… He takes what he wants.”

“You're still afraid of him.” She opens her mouth to argue—surprise, surprise—but I lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees. “You can lie to yourself about it, Callie, but you can’t lie to me. I can see it.”

She visibly swallows. “And you think us living together will actually help?”

“I don’t know. But I do know that I can’t help you if you’re twenty minutes away.”

As I watch her mull it over, I realize I don’t know anything about Callie. I mean, I know what she tastes like and how she likes to be touched, but that’s only an—unfortunately—small percentage of what it means to live with someone.

For all I know, she’ll keep thirty-seven half-empty shampoo bottles in my shower and hog the TV to watch Desperate Housewives. Is that a risk I’m willing to take?

One look at her, sitting on the floor, defeated and scared, and I know the answer.

If it means keeping her safe, I’m very willing to take that risk. In fact, I’m willing to do just about anything for this girl.

“Listen.” I ease closer, making sure she isn’t going to jump me again before I touch her knee. “It doesn’t have to be anything official. Just bring your clothes and whatever else you have at Kennedy's over, and if there’s anything else you need, we can get that, too.”

“What if I have, like, a giant stuffed animal collection that takes up half the living room?” she blurts.

I eye her skeptically. “Do you?”

“No. But what if I leave my clothes everywhere? Or clog the bathroom drain with hair? Or have hand towels that are only for decoration and threaten to light you on fire if you so much as dry a finger on one of them?”

The only thing scarier than that list is that I’m not sure any of it would be a deal breaker.

“Do you do any of those things?”

“No, but?—”

“Then I think we’ll be okay.”

Callie sighs. “I don’t know… This feels crazy.”

“Medical emergency,” I blurt.

She sits up, scanning me for injuries. “What are you talking about?”

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