Page 2 of Puck'n Bully
Even though I remain silent, he sees through the crack in the ice I’ve built around me.
“Good,” he says, tugging me closer to him. “I’ll help you. Come with me and I’ll make sure you know the world is better off with you in it.”
My heart pounds against my chest almost painfully from a strange emotion.
It’s neither the fear I feel at my dad’s presence nor the thrill I feel when I’m on the ice, facing the enemy team. It’s something else altogether.
I walk as he aggressively tugs on my wrist, determined to get me out of the sea. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but something deep within me has chosen to trust him. For the first time in my life, I’m willingly giving the reins of control to someone else.
“Damn, it’s cold tonight,” the stranger mutters, his long, slim fingers strongly holding onto my thick wrist.
The howling wind is freezing but his hand is warm against my wrist. Can he feel my pulse throbbing against his hold?
Once we’re out of the water, he leads me along the deserted beach until I can see the silhouettes of rising houses in the distance. Our wet shoes make squelching noises as we battle against the rough wind to reach our destination.
Soon, we’re walking up to a two-story house with a tall iron-wrought gate. Old-fashioned lamp posts illuminate a densely growing garden beyond it, making me question my choice to follow this strange guy.
“Come on,” he mutters, pushing the gate open and leading me through it.
The subtle fragrance of roses hits my nostrils as we hurry down the curved path leading to the house. Bent forward against the wind, the stranger drags me toward the front door.
He lets go of my hand and digs inside his jacket pocket, probably looking for a key. I immediately miss his warmth and step closer to his back. He doesn’t notice my closeness as he finally grabs the key and unlocks the door.
I don’t know why I was worrying a minute ago about following this guy.
Up close, under the glow of the porch lamps, I can see he’s more than a foot shorter than me, the top of his head brushing the center of my chest. His drenched clothes reveal a lean, lithe figure.
It’d take ridiculously low effort for me to tackle this guy and pin him underneath me. If I were to grip his wrists like he gripped mine, he’d never be able to break out of my hold.
“What are you waiting for?” the guy says, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Get inside already.”
Looking ahead, I see that he’s already entered through the door and waiting for me inside a lit hallway. “Hurry,” he urges.
Digging my hands into my jeans pockets, I walk forward.
“Let’s keep our shoes here,” he says, taking off his sneakers. “I don’t want to make a mess of the living room with all the seawater and sand.”
I do as he instructs and follow him down the narrow corridor.
Entering the living room area, I look all around me, taking in the old-fashioned décor. Lace curtains cover the tall windows while mismatched furniture dots the place. All the cushion covers are crocheted in a myriad of bright colors.
“Here, dry yourself,” my strange companion says, suddenly throwing a lumpy towel at me.
I grab it before it can smack me in the face.
“Nice catch!” he says, grinning.
For the first time, I allow myself to take a good look at him.
Soft, golden curls frame his heart-shaped face. His eyes are a bright blue, reminding me of a mid-summer sky. His skin is flawless and has a natural tan, like he spends a good amount of time walking along the beach. As he smiles, my gaze gets stuck to his luscious pink lips.
Damn! He’s beautiful, my mind whispers.
“So, what’s your name?” he asks, jolting me out of my thoughts.
“Does it matter?” I ask, my voice sounding deeper than I meant it to be.
His smile falters. A sober expression comes over him as his shoulders slump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I just need you to relax, okay? You’re safe here.”
