Page 34 of The Puck Player

“The clothes are amazing, I love them, and although they are definitely too much, I appreciate the gesture anyway,” I tell him honestly, and for the first time since this morning he offers me a shy smile. “And the other stuff, I get it now, I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“I really didn’t have any ulterior motive, I just wasn’t thinking how it might come across, clearly,” he scoffs, and I once again hear the panic in his tone. “Forgive me?” he pleads, and I nod with a smile.

“Truce?” I ask, hoping he will forgive me just as much in return, and this time his smile is blinding.

“Anything for you, Trouble,” he breathes, sounding relieved, as he holds out one of the bags in his hands. I take it in confusion, and when I peer inside my heart once again starts to hammer in my chest. There are two cans of pink lemonade and a food tray containing mac and cheese. “I had Daemon make the food, again not quite your mother’s, but I guarantee it will be better than the fast food places. It’s my way of trying to say sorry, again,” he explains, and tears burn at the back of my eyes at how thoughtful he is.

“Thank you,” I force out, willing myself not to cry, and instead force myself to focus on the other bag he is still holding. “What’s in that one?”

This time his eyes flick over my shoulder, where I’m sure Evie still sits, as he replies, “This one has Evie’s favorite food inside, just in case I needed to bribe my way in, but she told me to fuck off and man up.”

I feel Evie at my back, before she slings her arm around my shoulder. “And I stand by that statement, but now you two have made up, hand over my food, so I can leave you both to whatever this weird friendship is that you’ve constructed,” she muses, holding out her hand expectantly, and Alexander rolls his eyes as he passes her the bag. “Pleasure doing business with you, as always, Reign,” she winks, and then we watch as she heads to the kitchen to grab some cutlery, before disappearing into her room and leaving us alone.

When I turn back to Alexander, I find his eyes already on me, still not looking as relaxed and carefree as I have come to know, and I feel guilty for being the reason. It’s why I hold up the bag and gesture into the apartment. “We both know Daemon will have made enough for two, so would you like to join me for dinner?” I ask tentatively, and I practically see the tension leave his shoulders, as he closes the distance between us and nods.

“I would love to,” he purrs, moving to brush past me, before he pauses at my side and leans down, adding, “Who else would tutor you on the ways of the business world, love?”

And just like that we are back to normal.

I follow him inside, and we indulge in Daemon's delicious mac and cheese, which almost brings tears to my eyes, before Alexander covers this week's business topics, picking up exactly where we left off last week. There is no tension, no bitterness, just two friends enjoying one another’s company, and when I go to bed that evening, I sleep peacefully all night.

After Aubree and I make up, the next few weeks follow the same routine. I work out, go to class, go to practice, go to games, and spend as much time with Aubree as humanly possible. Besides just showing up between her classes with her favorite snacks and drink, I tutor her every Monday and Thursday, eat lunch with her on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, see her at my games on Fridays, and then make excuses to see her on the weekends too. Whether it be parties at the house, or dinner with the team, I make the bullshit plans, and Evie’s connection to Jake ensures that Aubree is always tagging along.

It’s fucking perfect.

What’s not perfect are my fucking balls. Never in my twenty-one years on earth have I ever suffered with such sexual frustration. I’m practically a born again virgin, and have startedto forget what sinking into a delicious wet pussy feels like. Something I could easily do whenever I want, it’s not like I’m short of attention, girls still throw themselves at me everyday. No, the problem is my cock is only interested in one fucking girl, and that girl is Aubree fucking Callows. The one who has moved past her boyfriend’s bullshit and is still fucking dating him. I had to listen to them talk the other night on the phone, even though she excused herself from the room, and it took everything in me not to slam my fist into the fucking wall.

I really don’t get what she sees in that fucking tool, but like the good friend I am, I have kept my mouth shut. Even if I am almost positive there is something going on between him and her best friend. It’s not really my place to speculate, so instead I show her what it’s like to be surrounded by friends who appreciate her, and just hope that one day soon she will see that prick for who and what he really is.

Right now, I’m waiting outside her first class of the day, with an iced latte and a chocolate chip cookie I stole from Daemon’s stash. He made them fresh last night, and after I stole four, he took them away and hid them, but then he once again got distracted by his boyfriend's cock, so I found them and stole four more. I ate two and saved two for Aubree, because I’m nice like that, and when her class lets out, I search the crowd for her in anticipation.

It takes me approximately sixty-seconds to realize she isn’t there, and I frown at the nameless girls who try to get my attention, as I pull out my phone. I search for Aubree’s number and click call, and it rings a few times before being sent to voicemail. I quickly end the call and move to find the next contact I need.Harper’s Ball & Chain.

Again the call rings a few times, but then Evie answers, and before she can even finish her greeting, I snap, “Where the hell is Aubree? I’m outside her first class and she isn’t here.”

“Well, hello to you too, Reign,” she drawls back sarcastically, and I roll my eyes.

“Good morning, Evie, great weather we’re having, I hope your day is bloody fantastic, now where is your roommate?” I huff in frustration, and now I’m sure she is the one rolling her eyes.

“She’s not in today, she said she wasn’t feeling well, so she stayed home, I’m going to check on her at lunch,” she explains, but I’m already stalking from the building with no intention of going to my next class.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” I reply, ending the call before she can refute me, and then I am en route to one place and one place only.

Aubree’s apartment.

I make the short drive off campus, and when I arrive at the building I note all the new changes with approval, as I climb from my car and make my way inside. The new building manager handled everything like a pro, and both the interior and exterior are sporting fresh white paint. Lights and security cameras have also been added all around the perimeter, and a new secure lock system was installed at the entrance. The inside has been updated with new decor including lights, plants, and pictures, and new flooring has been installed throughout. All in all it looks like a brand new place, and when Aubree commented in passing that the new changes were awesome, well, I felt like I was on top of the fucking world.

When I reach her door I deliver three sharp knocks, and when they go unanswered, I deliver three more, louder this time. I hear some shuffling on the other side, and a few more seconds arrive before Aubree finally cracks open the door and peeks out. When she sees it’s me her eyes widen a little, but still she opens the door a little more to reveal herself still in her pajamas.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice almost breaking, but my only focus is on the two tiny pieces of fabric she is trying to pass off as nightwear.

Holy mother of her god.

“Fuck me, Aubree, warn a guy before you answer the door like that, you’re going to give my dick a heart attack,” I groan, forcing my stare to the ceiling so I can try and keep my cock under control, but it’s no use. After weeks of no action outside of my right fucking hand, he’s hard as a fucking rock at the sight of her.

“Can we not today, Alexander, I’m really not in the mood,” she sighs, more than used to my shit, and my eyes instantly snap back to hers.

The usual emerald green of hers is darker and more muted than usual, and they are completely rimmed in red, as if she has been crying. I internally swear on her god, and every other god out there, that if that tiny little dicked wanker has made her cry again, that not even the devil himself will stop me.

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