Page 57 of Puck Block

“Fuck, Tay. Your sugar is low. Did you take too much insulin?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I…I’m fine.”No, you’re not.“I know what I’m doing.”

I place her on the bed and rush over to my gym bag. With a shaky hand, I undo the emergency snack kit that Emory and I both purchased as soon as she was diagnosed and pull out the bottle of glucose tablets. I open the bottle so quickly half of them fall to the floor, but I swoop up a couple into my palm and pull her into my lap.

“Open your mouth.”

She does as I say, and I pop the pink tablets into her mouth and close her jaw. Her head sways to the side, and we’re both sweating. I brush her hair away from her sticky forehead, and she closes her eyes.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper.

We stay in the same position for almost twenty minutes before she nods against my chest. I run my hand down her arm and watch goosebumps rise. “Better?”

“I’m okay,” she croaks.

Her eyes are shut, and she turns further to her side. I shimmy down onto my bed, and she exhales slowly when my arm comes around to trap her. I cup her head to my chest when she drapes a leg over mine.

I have no idea what just happened or why her sugar was so low, but instead of asking, I let her rest with the promise of bringing it up later.

Right after I punish her for trying to fuck some guy in my bed.

[ 25 ]

TAYTUM

I hearthe click and feel the tiny pinch half a second later. My eyes clench when someone squeezes my finger, but I decide to keep my eyes closed because I already know it’s Ford. I try to drift back to sleep because if I never make eye contact with him, then I won’t have to acknowledge what happened earlier in the evening.

My head dips when he exhales, and his heartbeat grows steadier against my ear, telling me that my blood sugar reading is okay.

I want to ask why he’s taking it manually when I’m wearing a monitor on my arm that everyone insisted on, but I choose the avoidance route instead.

After at least twenty minutes of keeping my eyes closed and making sure his pulse stays steady, I peek one eye open and see that it’s completely dark in his room. The hallway noise has quieted, and the random guy I pulled into Ford’s room before anyone could see is long gone.

I replay the night over and over again, hating that I can still feel the effects of Ford’s dirty messages and how good it felt to tease him…until things took a nosedive.

My blood sugar dropped quickly, and truthfully, I’m lucky that Ford walked in when he did, because I was unprepared–which was careless of me, considering I knew that it would drop eventually.

It’s a shame I didn’t get to finish my rendezvous because of the events that came after. I should be used to the feeling of disappointment, but the longer I lie on top of Ford, the more my body is reminded of what I didn’t get.

I shift and pray he’s fallen asleep. I breathe evenly through my nose and try to straighten my thoughts, but I keep ending up in the same place:Ford. His tongue in my mouth, his hands on my curves, the flare of jealousy in his eyes when he saw me on top of his bed. I shift gears and force myself to think about the handsy sophomore and his hot kissing, but that only makes things worse.

“Taytum.”

I freeze and pretend to be asleep.

“Are you okay?” Ford asks. “You keep squirming. I checked your blood sugar. You’re pretty level right now.”

I nod softly against his chest. I unhook my leg from around him, but his hand comes down on top of it, and he pushes it back down.

“What’s wrong? Don’t lie to me if you feel sick,” he demands.

“I don’t,” I whisper. “I feel fine.”

It’s a half truth. I’m one big giant knot that needs untying, but it has nothing to do with my blood sugar, so in that sense, Iamfine.

A few moments of silence pass, and I’m right back to where I was before—turned on and itching to be alone.

“Stop moving, and tell me what’s wrong,” he urges.

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