Page 6 of These Pucking Boys: Part Two

She bites her lower lip, and her cheeks turndeliciously pink. “I didn’t. And you don’t have a Canadian accent.”

“That’s true.”

“Where in Canada?”

“Montreal.”

My chest gets heavy. Speaking about my hometown brings my mother to the forefront of my mind. I try to push the thought back, but her illness is all I can think about now.

June touches my face. “What’s wrong?”

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a moment. “I didn’t want to talk about it tonight, but I might as well.”

“Ryan, babe, you can tell me anything.”

I look into June’s eyes,crazyhappy to hear her endearment despite the darkness swirling in my chest. “I like it when you call me babe.”

She smiles. “Better than Bertrand or Gosling?”

“Definitely.”

“Are you going to tell me what’sgoing onwith you?”

“Right.”I look away, running my fingers through my hair. “My brother called a few hours before we were supposed to watch the game together. He...”I swallow the lump in my throat. “He had bad news about my mother.”

“Oh no.”

I look into her eyes again. “My mother is dying of cancer. The doctors gave her a few months.”

“That’s why your sister came to see you?”

I nod, feeling like a jackass for not letting Mackenzie talk. “I thought she just wanted to meet her famous half-brother. How self-centered was I?”Aderisivelaugh escapes my lips.

“You couldn’t have guessed,andyou had years of hurt and prejudice influencing your behavior.”

“I was an asshole, Peaches, to Mackenzie andyou. There’s no sugarcoating it.”

June’s expression turns solemn. “Yes, you acted like an asshole, but you aren’t one. There’s a difference.”

I don’t speak for a moment while I hold her stare. She’s so sincere and pure, the opposite of me. I don’tfeel deserving ofher attention,yetI can’t walk away.

“I love you,”I blurt out.

Shit. Did those words leave my mouth for real? The way June’s eyes become as round as saucers tells me I did.

“You love me?”she squeaks.

I can’t take it back, not that I want to. I’ve never said the L word to any woman before, and I didn’t think I ever would.

“Yes, I do, Peaches. I’m fucking in love with you, and I’m not sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry?”

“I... I don’t know.”I shake my head. “Maybe because it happened fast... this is new to me.”

She takes my face between her hands. “This is new to metoo, Ryan. And for the record, I’m not sorry either.”

My brows furrow. “You’re not sorry for what?”

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