Page 86 of Dirty Pucker

“They were assholes. I’m sorry, Ingrid.”

“It’s okay. I’m over it. And I’m really happy you’re not like that.” I smile and gesture at my disheveled appearance: ratty sweater and leggings, my hair in a messy bun. “You saw me looking like a hot mess when I answered the door and you didn’t go running for the hills.”

He grips my hips and pulls me against him. “You could never look like a mess. Not in a million years. You got the ‘hot’ part right though. You always look sexy.”

My skin tingles as he leans his head down to kiss the side of my neck. I shiver.

He pulls back. “Let’s get you fed. What do you feel like digging into first?”

I grab the sour candy and walk over to the takeout bag. I inhale, savoring the smell of herbs and fish sauce. “Pad Thai.”

He smiles. “You got it.”

He grabs a couple of plates from the floating shelves on the wall of my kitchen, dishes up the Pad Thai, and hands me a plate. I thank him and head back to the couch. We sit down and I turn on the TV, my heart doing somersaults in my chest at just how amazing Del is.

Chapter 30

Del

“More tea?” I ask Ingrid, who’s lying with her head in my lap as we watch a movie.

She smiles up at me. “I’m good, thanks. But I’d love some more gummies.”

“Bears or worms?”

Her eyebrows wrinkle like she’s thinking hard about it.

“Bears,” she says after a second.

I grab the package of gummy bears from the coffee table, rip it open, and hand them to her.

She smiles sweetly. “Thank you,” she says before shoving a fistful into her mouth.

I smile. Fuck, she’s cute.

This isn’t how I expected I’d be spending the evening with Ingrid, but I’m having the best time. Yeah, it would have been nice to end up in bed doing filthy things to each other, but I like hanging out with her and cuddling on the couch just as much.

She shifts her position on the couch and snuggles closer to me. When I feel her relax on my lap, warmth pools in my chest.

It feels really, really good to see her like this around me. She’s comfortable enough to let me hang out with her when she’s not feeling well. She’s comfortable enough to let me take care of her.Comfortable enough to tell me about her period cravings and let me shower her with snacks, takeout, and cuddles.

I think about what Ingrid said earlier, about how her exes never offered to buy her snacks or tampons or anything else she needed when she wasn’t feeling well.

That pissed me the fuck off. Maybe it made them feel uncomfortable or weird to do it, but they should have gotten over it. She was the one in pain, and suffering. Helping her should have been a hundred times more important than anything they were feeling.

They sound like assholes. Especially after she told me that they made her feel gross and ashamed about doing anything physically intimate during her period. That’s such a shitty thing they did. Having a period is natural and no one should be made to feel bad about it, especially not by their significant other.

God, some men really fucking suck.

I try not to think about that and refocus on Ingrid and the moment. I glance around her high-end condo. It’s a single-floor floorplan, but it has more square feet than my three-story townhouse. The open-concept space of the living room, dining area, and kitchen is massive. The dining table and chairs and hardwood floors are made of the same blond wood that adorns her office. She clearly likes a clean, cozy, and glamorous aesthetic. Her plush sectional is white, just like the white marble countertops and the fireplace.

Gold is clearly one of her favorite colors. There’s a gold vase of flowers on top of the end table, the frame of her coffee table is gold, and there are small golden decor pieces along the fireplaces. Even the photos on the nearby bookshelf are in gold frames.

I smile at the picture of Ingrid as a cute little kid, her blonde hair in a ponytail as she poses with her parents. There’s another photo of her and Maya hugging and grinning. They looklike they’re in college. There’s another framed picture of her standing next to Theo when they were teenagers. He’s wearing a hockey uniform and she’s standing next to him. They’re both pulling goofy faces.

Ingrid’s place is so perfectly her: beautiful, elegant, and welcoming.

She smiles up at me and holds up a red gummy bear between her fingers.

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