Page 69 of Pucking Sweet

“My ego does. You’re squashing it with your stupid, giant body. Now, move.”

I lean back against the seat. “So, she’s okay?”

He takes another sip of his coffee, not looking at me. “You’ll have to ask her.”

Oh, believe me, I will.

I get settledon the plane, pulling my headphones and e-reader out of my backpack. I wrap the headphones around my neck and tuck the e-reader into my seat pocket. Novy is sitting in his own row across the aisle from me, scrolling on his phone. Langley leans back from a row ahead of him. “Hey, either of you wanna play Mario Kart?”

“No thanks,” I say as Novy mutters, “Fuck off, Langers.”

“They’re out,” he calls up the plane as the others settle in to start a game.

I put on my headphones and crank my music, nearly missing my mouth with my bottle of water as Poppy enters the plane. I drop my bottle down, screwing on the cap. Like Novy, she’s wearing a ball cap, this one a crisp white. Her blonde hair hangs in a ponytail through the hole in the back. She’s also wearing dark sunglasses, double fisting her phone and a travel coffee. She’s saying something over her shoulder to our social media lead, Claribel.

I pause my music and peer through the seats, taking in her stylish leisure wear look. Fuck, she’s so pretty. And so effortlessly cool. I’m about to be a total simp and wave at her, but that’s the exact moment she trips. Stumbling forward with a shriek, her phone goes flying from her hand. She flings her arm around Langley’s seat—his head with it—catching herself before she faceplants.

“Poppy!” I unbuckle in a flash and slide over to the aisle seat.

“Ow, ow, ow,” she cries, sucking up the hot coffee now dripping off her wrist, staining the cuff of her white designer hoodie.

“Oh gosh, Pop. I’m so sorry,” says Sully from two rows up, rising out of his seat. “My foot was in the aisle—”

“It’s okay,” she assures him on a breath, taking off her sunglasses and tucking them into the top of her hoodie. “Nothing bent or broken.” She looks down at Langley. “Sorry, Ryan. Didn’t mean to strangle you there, honey.”

“I’m fine—”

“Who the fuck is Anderson Montgomery?” Novy calls from across the aisle.

Poppy jolts, nearly spilling her coffee again. Her eyes narrow as she glares at him. That’s all the sign I need to know something definitely happened between them last night. My chest feels like it’s caving in. But then she gasps, lunging forward. “Ohmygod,giveme that!”

Novy leans away, arm in the air, holding up her dropped phone. “Not until you tell me why you’re social media stalking some preppy douche named Anderson Montgomery. Is he your new Hinge match or something?”

“He’s nobody, and my phone isprivate.”

“Seriously. What kind of name is Anderson Montgomery?”

“Lukas,” she shrieks, all but climbing in his lap to get her phone.

“Langers, catch,” he says on a muffled grunt, tossing her phone between the seats.

Langley catches the phone one-handed. “Let’s get a look at this guy,” he teases. “See if he’s good enough for our Poppy.”

“Oh my—Ryan, you give me that phone right now!”

He and Walsh both scroll the pictures on Poppy’s feed, while Langley holds her back with his arm. “Hmm, I say nope.” He hands the phone over to Walsh.

“Ryan!”

“He wears North Face zip-ups and khakis unironically, Pop. Do you really wanna pass that on to your children?”

“Yeah, and Anderson Montgomery is a total frat boy douche name,” Walsh echoes, passing the phone up a row. “I bet he buys all his socks at the Izod outlet.”

The other guys laugh, and just like that, now it’s a game. Poppy shrieks as they play hot potato with her phone. Jake and Sanford take a look next. “Jesus,” Sanford mutters. “This guy looks like he tells all his dates his favorite book isCatcher in the Rye.”

“I bet you a thousand bucks he says his favorite movies areApocalypse NowandA Clockwork Orange,” Jake adds.

“Yeah, more likeA Clockwork Orgy,” Novy calls, and they all roar with more laughter.

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