Page 17 of Puck Block

Ready or not, Taytum. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

My phone vibrates, and I pull it out of my pocket.

Emory: You got Taytum? Can you drive her home?

Me: Yeah, I’ll get her home. We’re leaving in a second.

Whether she likes it or not.

I shove my phone back into my pocket and skip across the floor. My hand is on the door, ready to push it wider, but I freezein place when I hear noises that betternot be coming from her. I peek through the crack like a peeping Tom, and my mouth parts. I catch her blonde locks cascading down in between her stupidly hot top and some guy’s head.

My brow furrows, and my mouth runs dry.How dare she?

I shake my head.

It’s the same reaction every time I find her with someone. It’s not often, but when I stumble into a room and she’s being touched by some guy, it feels like they’re taking something away that belongs to me. It’s utterly insane, but I’ve never been able to control the debilitating fear of losing her, even though she isn’t mine.

Not in that way, at least.

But right now, I can’t help but think she is.

I press on the door slowly and clamp my jaw. There’s a play-by-play inside my head of me rushing into the room, pulling her off this guy’s lap, and punching his lights out. But instead, I make my movements unknown. There’s no creaking of the door hinges, and my footsteps are stealthy.

Taytum is moving over him sensually as his hands roam over every perfect part of her body. There’s fire in my veins, and the longer I watch him touch her curves, the hotter I burn. His mouth pulls from hers, and I raise an eyebrow, eager to hear what he has to say to her to get in her pants.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers.

He’s right. She is.

But he’s still on my shit list.

Taytum is staring down at him, and unbeknownst to her, I’m standing right inside the threshold, watching with my arms crossed. My veins are bursting with something I refuse to name, and when he reaches up to pull her shirt off, I take a step forward.

Taytum straightens with unease, and I know exactly why.

“She doesn’t want her shirt off,” I snip.

And…there goes my cover.

Taytum’s hot gasp flies through the room, but I can’t stand to look at her flushed cheeks because I’m afraid it’ll only piss me off more. If she knows I'm annoyed, she won’t stop for anything.

“Ford! For fuck’s sake. Leave!”

“Bro, whoa. It’s called privacy.” The shitbag looks familiar, but I can’t pinpoint where I know him from. He peers back at the open door, but his hands are still on Taytum’s waist, and I can’t pull my glare away.

“It’s time to go, Heartbreaker.” I refuse to look her in the eye.

“I am not leaving.” She is seething, and fuck if it doesn’t turn me on a little.

“Who is this? Please don’t tell me you have a boyfriend.”

Taytum scoffs and throws her arms across her rising chest. “No. He’s my brother.”

The guy looks between the two of us, and I smirk. “I amnother brother.”

Taytum drops her arms and places them on his shoulders. She scoots closer to him, and my chest constricts.

Is she trying to play games with me?

---