Page 55 of Puck Right Off

“Wait, what? Did you go through it?”

“Yup. He handed me his phone, and I checked it out.” I shiver at the memory of Tristan demanding I read a smutty scene out loud and then every part of it with me.

“Marry that man. Right now.”

“Oh my God. Staappph.” I giggle, my heart pounding vigorously at the thought of keeping him forever.

“So you worked everything out?”

“Yup. We had such a nice talk about our pasts while you were at the party with Alex.” Shaking my head, I log into my laptop and pull up my tutoring schedule for the day. “I’ve changed my opinion of him. He’s not a puck boy. He’s lovable, not puckable. Well, wait… He’s definitely puckable. Hence why I pucked him in the shower.”

Chelsea giggles. “That’s a lot of hockey wordplay in one statement. I’m glad Tristan isn’t a fuck boy, or puck boy as you call him.”

“I wanted to give you details on Sunday before you left, but Alex and Tristan wouldn’t leave our side. Speaking of, I wanna hear everything about the party you went to with Alex.” I frown as I look at my schedule. “But it’ll have to wait. I have an appointment coming in any minute now.”

“I’ve gotta go anyway. I’m meeting my group to work on a project.”

“You’re being careful, right?” I frown, worried about Erik getting his unhinged hands on my bestie again.

“I’m being very cautious. Don’t worry.” She makes kissing noises. “I gotta go. Love ya, girl.”

“Love you, too.” I hang up the phone, sipping my coffeewhile reviewing my appointments. I choke on it when I see Bryce Gardner’s name. Even worse, Tristan booked a session with me right after Bryce’s.

As much as I’m irritated about Bryce booking an appointment with me, I don’t have any good reason to cancel it.

I resign myself to the fact that I’ll see Bryce in a few hours. Blowing out a breath, I lean back in my chair. I need to figure out how to end the session before Tristan arrives.

I’m sitting at the table, drumming my fingers against the wood, annoyance thrumming through me. Bryce is twenty minutes late. He hasn’t canceled the appointment or emailed me to let me know he’s running late.

Five minutes later, I snatch my laptop from the table, about to head to my office, when Bryce casually strolls in with a broad smile and a carefree attitude. I set my laptop down, scowling at him. His dark hair gleams beneath the fluorescent lights in my office as he pulls out the chair beside me, turns it around, and straddles it.

“You’re late,” I snap, glaring at him.

He shrugs. “Yeah. And?”

I gape at him, my mouth hanging open. “And?” I snarl, my brows drawing together. “I have another appointment after yours that I need to prepare for, which means this session ends in twenty minutes.”

“Relax, Jordyn. The next person can wait.”

There’s no way in hell Tristan will wait, especially once he lays eyes on Bryce.

“Your attitude is disrespectful. Your time is no more precious than anyone else’s.”

He rolls his eyes and leans forward, a smug smile on his face. “You’re even hotter when you’re pissed.” He smirks at me, and when I huff out a breath and turn to stomp away, he grabs my arm. “Sorry. Just speaking the truth. Let’s get started.”

I’m ready to bang my head against the table fifteen minutes later. Bryce keeps interrupting and looking at his phone, making excuses as to why he has to stop the session. I’ve told him at least six times to turn it off, but he refuses. I tried taking it from him at one point, but he snatched his arm away and grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer. I shoved him away, which only made him laugh. He wasn’t getting it when he focused on the material. At all.

When he grabs his phone again, I snap, “Put that fucking thing away, or I’m throwing it through the window.”

“Ohhh… Bossy and demanding. I can see why Harrington’s banging you.” His heated gaze lowers, stopping at my chest. “I mean, it’s hard to hide tits like that.”

I gasp, my palm itching to slap him. “Find another tutor, Bryce. We’re done.” Before I can stomp away, Bryce grabs my wrist, his hold on me like a vice. “What the hell are you doing?” I tug against his grip, trying to pull away.

Instead of letting me go, he yanks me closer. My balance teeters, and I grab his shoulder to prevent myself from falling.

“What’s it look like? Do you really think you’re anything more than a piece of ass to Harrington? Get real, Jordyn. Tristan doesn’t do relationships.” Emitting a vile chuckle, full of darkness, he hits on my biggest weakness. “Do you believe that shit he fed you about Janelle? The only reason he didn’t finish fucking her on the couch is because you walked in, and he saw you as a bigger challenge.”

Don’t listen to him.

---