Page 41 of Puck to the Heart
“I’m sure youthinkyou meanit. But it takes so long and it’s easier to… get it over with. If… if I don’t.”
“If you don’t what?” There’s no way in hell I interpreted that correctly.
The blush on her cheeks burned so red I felt the heat as her body temperature skyrocketed.
I guess that was my answer. “You mean you’ve never come first?” There’s a double meaning in that question, because clearly whoever she’d been with before never put her first either in the bedroom or out of it, if the way she spoke about herself was any indication.
“Sure, I have. If I’m the one to do it.” Her face went so red it was beyond scarlet, verging into maroon, and I wished it was for any other reason. Wished I put it there by kissing her senseless, not by bringing up painful subjects.
This conversation was getting out of hand, and I didn’t know what to say.
When I didn’t immediately respond, she went on as if in a daze. “It, umm, takes a long time? Sometimes?” Olivia suddenly found the ends of her hair incredibly interesting, twisting them through her fingers tight enough to whiten the skin. “So, I usually handle things myself first. I started doing it to make things easier for my ex and… yeah.” A little tilt of her shoulders made her curl inward.
Jazzy lounge music permeated the bar. Loud trumpets merrily sang their song, jarring and painfully bright where it cut through the spaces in our words.
“Jesus, Liv.” I drew my hands away from where I rested them on her back and covered hers instead, my fingers squeezing tight enough to draw her eyes up to meet mine. “Let me erase all those bad experiences from your memory.”Don’t think about what she said.“But let’s go back to you getting yourself off.”Too late.
“Let’s not.”
“Barnes, it’sallI can think about. Did you at least let him watch while you got yourself off?” Seeing her touch herself, sliding her fingers into the soft, wet heat between her thighs… no, I definitely wouldn’t mind watching.
Olivia’s hands clenched into fists between mine as she mumbled her answer. “He didn’t know.” Pulling her hands away, she reached for a glass.
I wanted to fuckingkillthe guy. “He never noticed that he never got you off?”
She squeezed her eyes closed so tightly the blue veins on her lids stood out against the paleness of her skin. “It took too long when he tried. He didn’t like to wait.” For a moment she swirled the remnants of her drink before swallowing the rest of it.
“I would make it so good for you, Barnes. I don’t care how you get off with me, as long as you do.” Which was probably thelastfucking thing I should’ve said to a woman who looked like she was debating running like a rabbit or smashing her glass on the ground. A hundred emotions flickered over her face in the dim golden light cast by the chandelier. Before I figured it out, a shadow blocked out the rest of the party.
“Wilder.” Coach Olsen didn’t raise his voice. He was calm, and his intonation on my name had me snapping to attention in my seat with Olivia sprawled over my lap. Her face went bloodless. “In your room in ten, lights out in thirty.”
A dozen responses flooded my mind, all of them worse than the last. We werefinallymaking progress. Olivia opened up to me, and now my goddamn coach was telling me to go to bed like a fucking teenager. I met his gaze, about to spit out a retort that would’ve earned an hour of skating lines when I noted the firm, yet kind set to his mouth. Blowing out a breath, I deflated, releasing the anger and tension that wasn’t directed at him. “Yes, sir.”
With an awkward little pat on Olivia’s shoulder, he nodded at me and walked away.
Olivia collapsed, and as Coach’s shadow retreated, I saw her eyes were too bright. “Olivia?—”
“Good night, Ash.”
Well, shit.
For once in my life,if I could keep my mouthshut, that would be amazing. Oversharing instead of heading up to Ash’s hotel room was entirely too on brand, and I hated every word that poured out of my mouth. Alcohol certainly wasn’t to blame; I’d only had two beers. No, it was Ash that intoxicated me into spilling all my deepest secrets. I was almost grateful to Coach Olsen for interrupting the course of the night because it would inevitably end badly if we made it back to one of our rooms, given the way I let my issues seep in and take over.
I couldn’t make myself face Ash again yet because everything I’d revealed to him made me relive a thousand old conversations and unsaid reproaches. It dragged me down old memories and left me scraped out and hollow inside. Exactly the way I’d been with Alex. Hurt wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how deep a mark he left on me, how deeply it still cut.
Ash probably thought he’d done something wrong, and it just made the whole fucked up situationworse. Reliving the look on his face as I left only reminded me why I shouldn’t have told him any of it. I never meant to spill my guts with such spectacularly bad timing, but I also hadn’t realized how much hurt lingered beneath the surface after Alex.
Hiding from Ash was the only way I knew how to cope. Hiding from everything, at least until I got myself back out of this hole I’d fallen down.
My phone buzzed with a few messages, but I ignored them. If it was an emergency, whoever it was would probably call. If it was Ash, I wasn’t ready to see whatever he said, good or bad. Tossing my phone aside, I lay on the scratchy hotel sheets, on the too-firm mattress and pancaked pillows.
Sleep never came, but when my alarm blasted in the dim space, I dressed but avoided leaving. Outside my door, I heard footsteps and voices, prompting me to stay away until the herd of hockey players emptied the hallway. Another half hour of waiting to be certain they left, and I headed down for breakfast, uncertain what to do for the day. Last night, Dad said the game wore him out, and there was no way I’d be able to work and focus on datasets while this exhausted. Instead, I wandered around downtown Raleigh for a while, finding a coffee shop and wandering my old stomping grounds until I killed half the day doing nothing. The caffeine vibrating through my veins gave me enough energy to tear through the remaining data when I returned to my room. With work emails sent and nothing else to do, I opened one of the books I brought but couldn’t bear the romance after last night. Even my fandom email inbox was empty, with none of my favorite fics updating all week.
With nothing else to do, I grabbed my purse and left the room again, wandering until I found myself in a sports bar. Once inside, I realized I’d tugged on Ash’s jersey over my shirt out of habit and winced.
I left it on.
Inside the dimly lit space, I found an empty spot at the bar and requested an order of boneless wings and a pitcher of beer. Beside me, a dude frighteningly reminiscent of Brad pointed at my jersey and grinned. “Hey, let’s put the Knights Hurricanes game up on the screen for the little lady.”
