Page 20 of The Pucker and the Princess
Marissa
I stareafter Dozer for far too long before getting in my car, which means I have to hustle so I’m not late to my meeting.
But any time my thoughts have space to wander over the next few days, I keep coming back to wondering what Dozer’s going to get or do for me to pay me back for changing his battery.
The prospect fills me with a sort of nervous anticipation. Will it be something good? Something fun? What if I hate it?
Of course, I have zero clue what he might try to do for me, especially now that I’ve turned down the most obvious offers of food or help.
Maybe I should’ve texted him when I decided to hang my pictures. But I was in the mood to get it done. I wanted to do it my way without any outside interference or someone else butting in their opinions.
As much as I love my mother, I’ve never moved into or decorated a place without her inserting her opinion under the guise of“help.” Even if I ended up doing whatever I wanted anyway, it was always under this vague shadow of her disapproval or approval.
I just … for once, I wanted something that’s all mine.
I got this job on my own. I found my condo on my own. And I wanted to decorate it on my own as well.
Sure, Dozer said he’d just be extra hands for me to order around. But how many times have I heard that only for the extra hands to be attached to someone who doesn’t like when I tell them what to do? Or thinks they know better?
Too many to count.
Every time the thoughts pop up, I tell myself I need to focus on work or my project and put the idea out of my mind. After a few days, I pretty much forget about it. Until I get a text from him.
Dozer
Okay. I wanted to make this all fancy and have it delivered to your door, but I don’t know which unit you live in. And asking would be weird. So digital it is.
Then he sends a link. I read the text three times, my brow furrowed in confusion at the crypticness of all this.
What are you talking about?
Click the link
“How does he know I didn’t click on it?” I murmur to myself, my finger hovering over the screen. Why am I so hesitant to click it, though?
Shaking my head at myself, I finally tap the link, and I’m taken to a page confirming two tickets for a game between the Emeralds and the Beavers.
It’s the season opener. I don’t know if you like hockey, but it seemed like the best option to pay you back. They’re prime seats at center ice on our side. I got you two tickets so you can bring a friend. The game’s on Friday. I know it’s not a lot of notice, so if you can’t make it this weekend, let me know and I can get tickets for a different game instead
Once again, I blink at the screen and reread his message a few times. “He got me tickets to a hockey game?”
But of course he did. He’s a professional hockey player. He probably gets them for free, which is why he can just get different ones if I’m not available on Friday.
Hitching my mouth to the side, I contemplate this as payback. I mean, it really is pretty on par, isn’t it? From someone else, tickets to a professional hockey game would be a bit over the top, but they don’t cost him any actual money. Just like me showing him how to change a battery didn’t cost anything. I suppose maybe ice skating lessons would bemoreequivalent, but I can see why he wouldn’t suggest that. Too much like a date, after all, and I already turned him down for dinner.
Oh god. You hate it, don’t you? Fuck, how’m I ever going to pay you back if you won’t let me?
Laughing, I type out a response.
No, I don’t hate it. I’m just … I don’t know how to respond. Thank you. I don’t need two tickets, though. I don’t really know anyone here that I’d want to bring.
You’re not trolling dating apps looking for guys to hang out with?
Ha. No. Not interested. I’m not looking for a boyfriend right now.
I hesitate for a second, rereading the last sentence, but then hit send. It’s the truth. And maybe it’ll mean he’ll stop looking at my lips like he wants to see if I’m wearing flavored lip gloss next time we bump into each other.
Although, I have to admit it’s gratifying to have him look at me that way. Especially since he’s not leering. He doesn’t try anything.
