Page 67 of Three Pucking Words
I’m a fucking asshole for making her think that all because I couldn’t process my feelings.
“You didn’t do anything,” I reassure her. “We can chalk it up to primal urges and neanderthal shit that I had no right feeling toward the situation.”
Her brows pinch.
Do I bother elaborating and risking her turning me away or shutting down? I’m not sure I want to take the chance. “I was being stupid,” I apologize. “And it had nothing to do with you.”
She watches me for a moment to gauge how genuine I am. “Which movie?” she eventually asks, her guard coming down a little.
Hope blossoms in my chest. “You pick.”
I’m not sure what she’s thinking as she nibbles her bottom lip, but whatever it is must be convincing enough for her to step aside.
“This room sucks,” I note after dropping the snacks onto the bed and peeling back the curtain to study the alleyway below us that has dumpsters and graffiti spraypainted on the wall. My room is on the opposite side of the hall with a cityscape view of Seattle.
Honor shrugs. “I’m not exactly top priority. They probably gave you guys the better rooms to kiss your butts.”
I can see the Space Needle and the water that spans the horizon. Now that it’s dark out, the city is lit up and giving my view a pretty glow. “We can watch a movie in my room,” I offer.
She makes a face. “Why? It isn’t like we’re going to be paying attention to the window. Unless you have two beds, since…”
Her words fade as she studies the one singular king mattress in the middle of the room. That much is the same as mine. “Sorry, only one bed in mine too. But it’s big enough if you’re worried about me crowding your space.”
Honor’s face grows redder. “It’s not that.” Her shoulders slump a fraction. “Okay, maybe it’s a little of that.”
I nod once. “If I make you uncomfort—”
“No!” she says quickly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “No. You don’t. I…It’s…” Her groan is quiet as she pinches the bridge of her nose and opens her eyes. “I’m not sure how I feel when I’m around you. We flirt. Or, at least, you flirt. And I don’t hate it. Not as much as I should. That makes me nervous. Being around you puts me on edge.”
The admission only makes the sensation under my skin spread. “Honey, you aren’t the only one. But I promise I’m here to watch a movie and eat an ungodly amount of sugar and processed red dye that will probably kill me earlier than most humans. That’s it. You can build a pillow fort between us if that would make it easier.”
She rolls her eyes. We both know a pillow fort isn’t going to stop whatever is lingering in the air between us. I’m just glad I’m not the only one who feels it.
“What do you say?” I ask her, staying where I am a healthy distance away.
She takes a deep breath and walks over to the bed, picking up the remote control from where it rests on the nightstand. Puck is curled up in a ball on the corner of the mattress and only picks his head up for a few seconds to see me before laying it back down.
“Poor guy is tired,” she notes, running her fingers over his short coat and sitting beside him.
“Travelling takes a lot out of me too.”
She seems interested in that. “You’re not used to it? You do it all the time.”
“And I usually crash when I get home.” That isn’t as common since having Gemma in my life, but I get a nap in when I can.
“Why aren’t you sleeping now?”
I answer honestly. “Because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”
All she does is stare at me for a solid minute before settling onto the left side of the bed and stretching her legs out. I’m tempted to ask if she wants to change, mostly for my benefit, but I don’t.
Which means I’m about to spend the next two hours doing my best not to stare at every inch of exposed skin on her. At least it’ll give me new images to jerk off to when I’m alone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Honor
Every week, Milaand I get together for breakfast and bitch about our lives over sugar and carb-packed meals. Usually, it’s two hours of ranting about small inconveniences that really aren’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. Like how her spin instructor has it out for her, or that her girlfriend wants them to get a cat. My complaints normally center around family dinner and how Gen Z slang words make me feel ancient.
