Page 6 of Absolutely Pucked
He let out a slow breath. “It’s been a while for me. It…might be nice to do this. To forget, you know?”
I wanted to ask what he was trying to forget—what he was running from—but I was going to take a leaf out of Boden’s book and let it not matter. Just for now.
Just this once.
CHAPTER
TWO
FORD
The room smelledlike food storage. Or, at least, it smelled a lot like the back stockroom at my work, where we kept all the pallets of dry grains and flour. There were boxes stacked against most of the walls, but there was a very big couch that looked like it was made from terry cloth and a TV in the corner next to a coffee station.
“Is this their breakroom or something?” Ian asked as he spun in a slow circle.
My hip was aching, so I made my way over to the couch as carefully as I could and sat while he wasn’t watching. That was also awkward. I was used to maneuvering with metal hinges instead of joints, but it always drew attention.
Once I kicked my foot up on the edge of the coffee table, the rest of my body relaxed. Ian turned back to face me, and I could just make out the curve of his smile behind his thick facial hair. He carried himself like a man who was hiding. His shoulders stayed hunched,and when his hair fell in his face, he let it sit there like he didn’t want to be seen.
“Come sit.”
He looked a little startled before clearing his throat and walking over and dropping beside me. We weren’t touching. Not yet. But I could feel tension radiating off him in waves.
“I’ve never done this before,” he confessed. “I have no idea what the social etiquette is.”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure etiquette got left downstairs at the bar. I mean, this is kind of an anonymous hookup.”
“Ford?” he said.
It took me a minute to realize why he was saying my name. Reaching over, I grabbed his hand and slotted our fingers together. His breath stuttered in his chest, but he didn’t pull away. “Sounds like a fake name, doesn’t it?”
He laughed very softly. “I wasn’t trying to say anything, but…”
“It would be easier if my name was like, Fordrick or Fordstopher.”
His brows lifted, and his fingers twitched against mine. “Would it? Those are definitely weirder than Ford.”
“My parents are whatever hipsters were before the name hipster was invented. My sisters are Coral and Rain.”
He chuckled very softly. “My brother and I have different names too.”
“I don’t know who told you Ian is different, but they lied,” I said.
I could see the faint outline of a blush around hisbeard line, which went high up on his cheeks. “Well, his name is?—”
There was a knock on the door, cutting his words off, and I felt a tiny surge of panic because it was obvious he wasn’t going to get up. This was when he’d notice. I gripped the arm of the sofa and hauled myself up as smoothly as I could…which wasn’t smooth at all.
But I managed to keep my balance, and I made my way to the door, pulling it open just enough to see Max standing there with a tiny smile on their face.
“Am I interrupting?”
My ears heated, and I shook my head. “Not yet.”
They lifted the tray, which was piled high with fried goodness, two bottles of water, and two bottles of what looked like a very fancy ginger ale. “It’s not steak or oysters, but the food we serve has definitely gotten people in the mood.”
I opened the door wider and took it off them. “Thank you. I owe you.”
They winked. “Have fun, honey.”
