Page 13 of Puck Right Off

I frown, hating that her parents are always off, living their best lives, throwing money but not love or attention on their only daughter. As much as Chelsea claims she likes the freedom to do what she wants and the platinum credit cards, I know she’s lonely. “Where are they now?”

“Bora Bora. Mom said it was getting too cold in New York.” Her brittle laugh makes my heart ache. “Yeah, the balmy eighty-nine-degree temperature is absolutely freezing. I had to get out my winter coat.”

“Sorry, sweetie.”

“Eh, don’t worry about me.” Her voice lowers, and I can practically hear the gleam in her eyes when she says, “Tell me about Tristan. I know he’s hot?—”

“How do you know that?”Damn it.Not only did I admit it, but my voice sounded accusatory. Even slightly jealous.

“Ohh, he’s really hot.” The sound of traffic comes through the line. “What’s the hockey team’s name again? Wolverines?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I stare at the ceiling, irritation spreading like a disease.

“Here he is.”

“Are you looking at the team webpage?”

“Obviously, you’ve checked it out.” Her amused laughter makes me want to slap her. “So what happened? How was your first meeting?”

That’s a loaded question. I debate what to say, but she squeals in my ear before I can form the thoughts, nearly deafening me. “Oh, my God. Tell me right now, bish.”

“Well…” I chew on my lip, still unsure what to tell her.

“Fuuuck! You saw his dick!”

“Chelsea! Are you psychic?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” I hear the smug smile in her voice. “Now tell me.”

I recount everything that’s happened since I arrived, including how the jolt of electricity raced through me when I touched his chest and how he rattled me in my doorway just a few minutes ago.

“Sounds like chemistry to me. I think you should fuck him.”

“Chelsea, he’s a puck boy. Weren’t you listening when I told you about our first meeting?”

“Oh, I heard it. The best part was you standing there and watching like a voyeur.”

“Stop it.” I slap a hand over my face, my burning cheek heating my palm. “I know it was wrong to watch….”

“But you haven’t had sex in a long time, and when you did, your asshole ex and that one-time fling wouldn’t know where to find your clit if you drew them a map.”

“Well, yeah,” I admit, embarrassed at how well she knows me. “But it’s not just that…”

“Oh, he’s hung like a horse. Do tell.”

“Chelsea,” I squeal. “You’re terrible.”

“But you didn’t deny it. If he were a short dick man, you would’ve instantly denied it. Spill the tea.”

Laughing, I shake my head and stick my tongue out at her, even though she can’t see me. I’m glad I didn’t FaceTime her. This conversation is humiliating enough. “I mean, yeah, he has the biggest one I’ve ever seen. But it’s more than that.”

“So he was skilled with his dick? Even though you interrupted before you could witness the whole show.”

“God, Chelsea, you make it sound so sordid. My bag hit the floor before the grand finale, so I don’t know how good he is, but what I saw was impressive.”

“You did not just call it the grandfinale.”

“I’m trying not to be crude. The point is, I didn’t watch the whole performance, so I?—”

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