Page 33 of The Puck Chase

Pushing inside I find her sitting on her bed, her sketchbook already in hand, and I toss her phone beside her and ask, “Any reason why my teammate is texting you?”

Aurora rolls her eyes, snatching the phone from where I threw it and tucking it under her pillow. “Because he likes me better than you.” From the mood she’s in, I can tell she isn’t up for talking, and given the fresh contact now burning in my phone, I don’t really want to hang around and listen anyway.I retreat back the way I came, when she calls out to my back. “Arch, why aren’t you as protective as Everest?”

I pause with my hand on her door handle. “Because I have him to do it for me,” I reply with a wink, before pulling her door closed and leaving her alone.

“You’re an asshole,” she calls through the door, and I smile as I yell back, “And you’re a brat.”

Going back downstairs to finish dinner while my phone remains in my pocket, feels like torture, and by the time the festivities are over, I practically sprint to my room. Now most people would probably find it weird that I didn’t have my teammates number before today, but those people don’t know Daemon Forbes. He is notoriously private, and having it now feels like a fucking gift, one I don’t plan to waste.

Once I’m settled on my bed, I think of a thousand things I could say to start a conversation with him, and then settle on the only one that isn’t fucking awful.

Archer - I never thanked you for the food

Okay, never mind, that is fucking awful. Yet to my surprise, he reads it right away, and I am instantly greeted with those little typing bubbles.

Daemon - Who is this?

Of course his first message is a demand, and I find myself smirking, as I loosen the tie around my neck and undo the top button of my shirt. Being able to text him has me feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, and knowing he can’t escape me now is even better.

This is going to be fun.

I’m not one for the holidays, any of them really, but Thanksgiving is my least favorite one, and yes, it has everything to do with my demons. Josh usually helps, and he spent most of the day in and out of my room, complaining about his father, until he finally had to leave and attend his family’s annual Thanksgiving party. He finally picked a name off the list of approved women to become his wife, and it just so happens to be his sister’s best friend. So I’m sure things are going to get a lot more interesting around here if she says yes.

As per my usual routine for the last few years, I stay in my room alone, sketching, which is just the way I like it. So when my phone pings with a message from an unknown number, I internally groan. Who the fuck is texting me? I quickly respondby asking as such, and then stare at my phone until it lights up again. Only then do I groan out loud.

Unknown - **Image attached**

Unknown - Did you already forget what I taste like 47?

There in full color, is a picture of ArcherfuckingGray, lounging in his bed wearing a fucking tuxedo and a smile. What the fuck?

Daemon - How the fuck did you get this number?

I don’t know why I ask that. I know the answer, and I curse myself for starting a friendship with his sister. I knew it would come back around and bite me in the ass. Yet, as pissed off as I am, I still save his number under a new contact in my phone.

Gray - I think you know the answer to that

Gray - How come you’re friends with my sister and not me?

His question doesn’t surprise me. People like him need to be liked by everyone, and I take great satisfaction in typing out my response.

Daemon - Because your sister isn’t an insufferable asshole

Of course I know that won’t be the end of it, he’s too fucking stubborn for his own good. Which is why, when my phone lights up with an incoming video call, I shouldn’t be surprised. I reject the call, tossing my phone back on the bed beside me, andhoping that’s the end of it, but I forgot just how insistent Archer fucking Gray can be.

My phone lights up with yet another video call, and I groan, before swiping across the screen to accept the call, his smug face appearing as I snap, “What?”

The smirk he is already wearing only widens, as his eyes trail over me, before he purrs, “If I’m such an insufferable asshole, then why are you answering the phone when I call?”

A valid question that only has me feeling more pissed off, as I grit, “Because I haven’t discovered how to fucking get rid of you yet.” My words light up his entire face, as he leans back on his bed, showcasing more of his tuxedo-clad form.

“Touché,” he replies with a smile, not deterred by my words in the slightest, and I can’t help but be as confused as always by him. “So, what are you up to?”

What am I up to? What the fuck is this guy on?

“Did I miss the part where we became friends?” I ask, not getting what this prick doesn’t understand about staying the fuck away from me.

“No, you didn’t, but you did stick your tongue down my throat, so I think that constitutes some conversation,” he tosses back without missing a beat, and I take a deep breath at the reminder of that damn kiss. “Now come on, tell me what you’re doing, or are you jerking off and that’s why you don’t want to tell me?” he adds with a wink, and the thought of him catching me jerking off snaps to the forefront of my mind.

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