Page 25 of A Little Puck Luck

Chapter 19

Scuba

Annettewasn’thomeyet,and I wanted her here. I missed her so much, and I wanted to know if she was safe.

Given all she’d been through, I couldn’t call her and ask if she was coming home soon. I didn’t want to be yet another controlling asshole, which was also the reason I was not reaching out to Natalie.

But damn, I wanted her home with me even if we were being fucking awkward in silence.

Instead, I controlled my basest emotions and watched some football. Okay, watching was rather generous since I couldn’t even tell who was playing. Just that one team was in green and yellow, and another team was in black.

I also kept checking my phone for any word from either her or Natalie.

When I went out, Annette wouldn’t reach out to me unless it was getting close to one or two a.m. So, I promised myself to give her the same grace. There was no way in hell I could hold out until two a.m., and I hoped that she wasn’t planning on staying out until three or four a.m.

When I heard the garage door open, I practically leaped out of my seat to go into the kitchen to see Annette.

Natalie escorted Annette in with a hand around her waist, and it was clear my sweet, innocent Annette was absolutely smashed. I quickly went over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “Seems like you girls had fun.”

“Loads.” Annette had that lopsided smile that made me wonder just how much she had to drink.

Seeing Annette drunk was a little bit of a surprise since Natalie asked if I could watch Eric tonight due to some sort of girl crisis.

After I dumped the packet of electrolytes into the bottle, I recapped it and shook it up. Then, I handed it to her, “Better drink this.”

God, it felt weird being the one to ply her with water. Normally, our roles were reversed, and I was the irresponsible one.

Yet, at the same time, I was glad she went out and was able to have some fun. I wanted her to have the spark back, and that wouldn’t happen if she always stayed in and took care of Eric. She didn’t have to do that anymore.

Annette leaned over and tapped my cheek. “You’re pretty.”

The simple comment shouldn’t have elated me the way it did. I was convinced she hated me since she always had those pitying eyes on me when I drank and barely looked at me at all when I was sober.

Yet they always said if you wanted to hear the truth, talk to a kid or a drunk.

So this was her truth. I was still pretty in her eyes. It helped to break the mental wall of calling her Annette and Annie.

Despite everything, I loved her and longed to have a connection with my Annie.

I led her to the couch, and she flopped down with as much grace as a lead anvil. After she righted herself, she finally took a sip of water.

She needed to drink the whole bottle, but I couldn’t rush her.

“I’m just going to go,” Nat announced from the kitchen. I kind of forgot about her since I was a man on a mission: taking care of Annie.

I lifted my fingers and waved her off. “See ya.”

Annie moved closer to me and really nestled into my side while I wrapped my arm around her body. It felt too good.

My dick hardened, and I tried to tell the little dude that it wasn’t going to happen. Sex was off the table. Annie was wasted. She could be throwing herself at me, and I would still be a gentleman and withhold.

It didn’t mean I didn’t want her. I just needed her to want me while sober. Well, that, and I also needed to know why.

She mumbled something, but it was completely incoherent since she talked straight into my torso.

Moving her mouth away from my chest, I asked, “What was that, my love?”

That got some recognition from both of us because I used to call her that back when we dated. With my arm wrapped around her, it was like old muscle memory kicked in, but I still meant it.