Page 63 of Puck to the Heart
My hands curled into fists, except they were still on her back, so my fingers squeezed into her hips. “You were doing it incorrectly. I was trying to help.”
“Ash. Breathe. I’m fucking with you. Thanks for the help.” Something shuttered in her eyes, and she looked away.
“I—am really confused.” I removed my hands, lamenting the loss of her skin beneath my fingertips.
“Me too,” she muttered under her breath. And I probably wasn’t supposed to hear that, but…
“What is that supposed to mean?” I didn’t intend to snap, but maybe it was the raging hormones I’d been trying to ignore all day, making me open my stupid mouth.
“You’ve been weird for a while.”
“No, you’ve been weird.”
Olivia blinked, cocking her head as she stared at me in the mirror. “Well, now we’ve got that cleared up…” Tugging out the earbuds, she gave me a contemplative look. “What’s bothering you?”
Don’t say it, don’t say— “What isn’t?” I winced. “I mean, a lot of things are on my mind.”
“Is there anything in particular? Can I help?” The familiar look of the problem-solving gears in her brain whirring into action caused a half-second distraction.
“I have a question.” Needing something to do with my hands, I adjusted my hat, letting the rush of air fall over my sweaty hair. “Do you…”fuck, just spit it out.“When I told you about…everything, did it bother you?”
Olivia stared. “Bother me? I was sad you were hurting. Is that what you mean?”
“No. I mean.” I wanted to vomit. If she said the words, it would be the final blow. “About how it all made me feel. About myself. If—if you felt the same.” I couldn’t look at her when I said it. I focused on a smudge on the mirror instead.
“Oh.” She let out a slow exhale. “Ash. No.”
When she didn’t continue, I risked a glance at her reflection. She twisted her fingers together in front of her, trying to figure out what to say.
“I thought you needed space. To process. You brought up a lot of really painful things, and it seemed like you needed to work through them all. And I thought you wanted to work it out on your own, so I gave you space. It’s how I process things. Alone.”
“…oh.” Trepidatious relief nearly knocked me down as it slowly spread.
“I’m so used to shutting down; I thought you would too. I’ll ask whatyouneed, in the future.”
Future. It might be my new favorite f word.
Okay, maybe not.
“So, you’re okay?”
“No.” I let out a breath. “I mean, kind of. I thought—I thought you were thinking the way I did back then. And I couldn’t handle it.”
“I don’t care who you’ve been with. Or why. I never cared about any of that. The number and reasons don’t matter. What matters now is you and me. And I cared how it made you feel, bringing it all up.” Setting her water bottle aside, she drew in a deep breath. “It was clear you were upset, and I thought you needed to figure it out on your own. That’s all, I promise.” She tightened her ponytail.
Using the hold I had on her hips, I spun her to face me, to meetmyeyes, not my reflection’s. Tangling my fingers in the ends of her high ponytail, I tugged on the strands until her head tipped back. With one arm wrapped around her waist, I buried my face against her neck. Three days' worth of stubble rasped audibly against her skin, but instead of flinching away, she shivered, pressing closer. A familiar scent clung to her, and I breathed it in. “I missed you.” I didn’t mean to say it, but the words tumbled out before I could stop them. It stung to admit how much her unintentional distance hurt me. But the ache was easier than missing her.
“I missed you, too. And now, can you please get back to being your normal, irritating self?” Her arms slid up my sides before slipping behind my back.
“You think I’m irritating, huh?” I tightened my grip on her hips, dragging my mouth up to whisper into her hair. “Fine. I’ll be irritating.” I smiled against her ear before catching the lobe between my teeth, moving my hands to skim along the bare skin of her midriff and up—up—up to the sides of her breasts, ghosting my fingers over the fabric over nipples I knew would be taut and ready for my touch.
Then I released her and walked away.
“You—you?—”
“So eloquent, sweetheart,” I shot over my shoulder.
“Come back.”
