Page 55 of Puck You Very Much

“You want to see if baby got back?”

Lucy’s laughter grew louder.

Dax’s jaw ached.

“Your actual back will do just fine, Jack,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “Now I understand why Leslie thought a few shirtless pictures wouldn’t hurt.I, for one, am not feeling any pain.”

Did she say something about pain? Yes, Dax was close to inflicting some on someone.

“Oh, you should be in the picture too, Lucy,” Jack said lightly. “To show the fans how closely players and marketing work together.”

A delicate blush crept across Lucy’s cheeks.

Blood whooshed through Dax’s ears.

“We have a rule in PR: Look, don’t touch.”

Jack grinned. “Well, I don’t mind at all if you want to touch me.”

Lucy giggled and stepped forward. “Well, I do have a professional interest…”

Dax lost his patience.

“That’s enough!” he snapped at her.

Surprised, she turned and widened her innocent, dark eyes. “What’s enough?”

“Oh,please,” he growled, stomping toward her before lowering his voice so the others couldn’t hear him. “Don’t pretend. You’re provoking me!” he hissed, leaning forward to look her straight in the eye, his pulse throbbing in his neck. “Why else would you be flirting with West?”

“Because it’s fun?” she replied tonelessly, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m not enjoying it, so stop it, damn it!”

“Why?” she asked innocently. “Maybe he’ll be my number twelve.”

He snorted. “As if. You’re not at twelve, you only said that to shock me—besides, everyone knows you don’t get involved with players.”

“I don’t get involved with players because you’re all little boys who whine when you don’t get your way,” she whispered, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “But Jack West is aman.”

His jaw cracked. God, how he would love to show her how much of a man he was. But they weren’t alone. He could feel the curious glances of the photographer and Jack on the back of his neck. Besides, they wanted to act normal and… Shit, he had to get out of here. He couldn’t think clearly anymore. Lucy was clouding his mind.

“Screw this,” he muttered stiffly before abruptly turning, crossing the room, and yanking open the door.

“Uh, Lucy…we need him!” he heard the perplexed photographer call out as he was slamming it shut.

Dax exhaled with a hiss and rubbed his face with both hands. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, but the tightness in his chest wouldn’t go away. Neither did the bitter taste in his mouth. This wasn’t good. Nor were the footfalls he heard on the other side of the door before Lucy pulled it open.

“Where are you going?” she asked wide-eyed, her cheeks still red. And because of Jack, not him!

Fuck.

He didn’t feel like talking to her and couldn’t guarantee anything if he did. So he pushed open the nearest door leading into an empty office space and quickly stepped in, but as he turned to close it, Lucy’s foot shot out to hold it open.

“What the hell is up with you?” Stunned, she stared at him and pushed the door wider with brute force. “Are you seriously running away from me?”

“You’re askingmewhat the hell is up?” he replied heatedly, his voice growing louder with each word. “You’re the one who just practically threw yourself at Jack!”

“Don’t yell like that,” Lucy hissed, glancing worriedly into the hallway before hastily shutting the door, throwing her purse onto the floor next to it, and crossing her arms. “And I didn’t throw myself at him. We were just…talking.”

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