Page 73 of The Pucking Arrangement

But I can’t stop watching Erin.

She stands behind Ris, adjusting her grip with gentle, practiced hands. Every movement is intimate, precise, the kind of touch I crave with desperate, aching need.

Her oversized T-shirt slips off one shoulder, revealing smooth, golden skin.

And I am undone.

Jaw clenched, I inhale slowly, measuring each excruciating breath. Counting the seconds of restraint.

Not yet. Not yet.

“Papa, did you see?” Ris shakes the bracelet, like it’s responsible for her success.

I drag my focus back to her, forcing out words. “Beautiful, Amnushka. You’ve been practicing hard.”

“Every day,” Erin confirms. There’s pride in her voice. Warm and deep.

And fuck, it wrecks me.

“You look exhausted.” Erin’s voice is softer now, her gaze flicking over my face. Assessing. “You should try to sleep before tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“My performance at Le Poisson Rouge. Six o’clock.” She toys with the hem of her shirt—thatdamnshirt—as she continues. “I need to leave by four to get ready. Bach’s Cello Suite No. 3 in C; and then Shostakovich Sonata.”

A small hesitation. Then, carefully, like she’s testing the waters, “It’s…kind of a big deal. Liam’s coming.”

She’s not asking if I’ll be there.

She’s reminding me that Iwon’tbe.

That I’ll be here. Alone. With Ris.

That she won’t be around to help.

“Papa, can we go?” Ris bounces in her seat, excitement crackling off her in waves. “Please?”

Shit.

“Amnushka—”

“Please?” She deploys puppy eyes, her most dangerous weapon. “Sophie’s going, and Liam, and?—”

“It’s late for you,” I start, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve already lost.

“But there’s no school tomorrow! I can sleep in! And I want to see Erin play! Like, really play—not just practice!”

Her lower lip wobbles.

Fuck me, I’m weak.

“And I need a dress!” Ris barrels on, eyes gleaming with sudden inspiration. “A red one! The same color as Erin’s!”

Erin blinks. “How do you?—”

“You told me yesterday.” Ris grins, triumphant. “You said you’re wearing red! So I have to match! Can we find one, Papa? Please?”

Now she’s double-teaming me—weaponizing the puppy eyes and using Erin as ammunition.

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