Page 35 of The Puck Player

“You don’t look sick,” I say calmly, willing both my cock and head to remain under control, and she frowns in confusion.

“What?”

“Evie said you were sick, but you don’t look sick, you just look sad,” I tell her, and the tension in her shoulders drops, as she steps back even further and silently signals for me to enter.

I push inside and close the door, following after her as she pads barefoot to the kitchen, forcing myself not to look at all the skin she has on display. I watch as she quickly throws some tissues into the bin, before turning to me with a sad smile.

“It’s my mom’s birthday,” she finally admits, and though the tension leaves me completely, the sinking feeling inside of me doesn’t. This is the first birthday since her mum died. Fuck. I don’t even get chance to respond before a tear slips down her cheek and she gasps, “I just wanted to go see her, but my car isin the shop, and I called Ben and he didn’t answer, my dad is busy, and I haven’t spoken to Malorie in a couple of weeks, and it’s just not a good day.” Her words rush out all in one breath, as she lets out a choked cry, and I rush around the kitchen island, immediately pulling her into a hug.

As soon as my arms are around her she breaks, sobbing into my chest, and all I can do is stand there and console her, because it doesn’t matter how much money or power I have, I can’t bring people back from the dead, but right now in this moment, I really wish I fucking could.

I’m not sure how long we stay like that, with her in my arms allowing me to comfort her, but when she eventually calms down and pulls away, she looks beyond embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, a red tint staining her cheeks, as she takes in the wet marks her tears left behind on my shirt.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I reassure her, reaching out to swipe away the last of her tears. “Now go and get dressed,” I demand, and once again her frown returns.

“Why?”

“You mean besides for the sanity of my cock?” I ask with a huff, reaching down to readjust myself, and she flushes even further. “Because we are going to see your mum of course, now chop chop, I’ll give you ten minutes.”

Her stare holds mine for a few seconds as if searching for the joke, but when I hold it with a glare, she throws herself at me again, squeezing me tightly in her arms. “Thank you, Alexander,” she mutters into my chest, and giving up on my cock going down anytime soon, I hug her back with a sigh.

“Anything for you, Trouble,” I reply honestly, and she pulls back with a shy smile, before excusing herself to get dressed.

I use the moment of privacy to fire off a quick text to Duchess.

Alexander - I need something

Duchess - Is it finding you a good therapist?

Duchess - Because if so I already have a few on speed dial

Alexander - No I ended up fucking my last two, it was a total nightmare

Duchess - Did you know you provide a hostile work environment?

Alexander - Yes now can you shut up and do your job?

Duchess - What does my evil master need today?

I quickly explain what I need and all she does is reply with a bunch of whip emojis, but still I know she will get it done.

Aubree appears not long after, dressed in a purple cashmere sweater with the corresponding silk skirt, both from my mother’s collection, and I once again will my cock to calm the fuck down, but of course the fucker doesn’t listen.

It’s going to be a long drive.

The driveitself is mostly quiet, and it isn’t until we get close to where Aubree and I first met that she starts to perk up a little. I see her eyes trailing over things in nostalgia, and when I push her a little she starts to point out all her favorite spots, telling me stories from when she grew up. I offer a few of my own, although for some reason she wasn’t interested in where my favorite stripclub is. Either way it feels nice to kick back and get to know each other a little better, but the second we pull up to the cemetery, that happy and carefree version of her disappears once more.

“You can wait here if you want, I won’t be long,” she starts, moving to unbuckle her seatbelt, but I already have mine undone, and I am exiting the car and rounding to her side before she can even reach for the handle.

I open her door and she shakes her head at me a little in exasperation, as I hold out my hand for her to lead the way. We walk in silence as she guides me to her mother’s grave, and once we reach it, I notice her mum and her grandma are buried side by side. I recognize the names from the information Duchess gave me when I first asked about her, and it’s only now that I mildly wonder about her father. She’s only mentioned him once in passing, the first time she had dinner at the house, and again this morning saying she called him, but aside from that I know nothing about him, and his information wasn’t included in her background check. I remind myself to ask Duchess about it later, before focussing back on the present.

Aubree freezes as we reach a spot a few paces from the headstone, and eyes the fresh violets and irises that now litter her mother’s grave. When she turns and eyes me in question, I shrug.

“What? Every woman should get flowers on her birthday, and these are apparently the flowers of February,” I muse, explaining half of the favor that I asked of Duchess. Apparently each month has flowers to represent it, who knew?

Aubree smiles at me sadly. “They’re beautiful, Alexander, thank you.”

Her words are laced in sadness, and I fucking hate it.

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