Page 66 of Pucking Wild

“Hey, I have an idea,” I say. “How about you put on your PJs, and I’ll make us some popcorn. We can watch whatever you want on the TV in my room.”

She blinks up at me. “In your room?”

“Sometimes it helps me to fall asleep with the TV on. I bet you’ll pick something girly, and then I can just kind of zone out and maybe actually fall asleep.”

Her eyes flash as she pops her hands on those hips—which should be a crime because it just pulls on the opening of her silky robe, showing me more of her breasts. “You want me to pick the TV show so you can zone out to a stupid chick flick?”

“That way we both win, right?” Ducking down on one leg with the balance of a pro hockey player, I snatch up my crutch from the floor. “Meet me over there in five,” I call over my shoulder, not giving her a chance to say no.

And that’show I found myself eating three bags of popcorn and staying up until 2:00 a.m. rewatching the first four episodes ofSons of Anarchy. I lost Tess somewhere early in episode three. She passed out on my bed, her arm curled around the empty popcorn bowl, green jelly eye patch things stuck to her cheeks, with fuzzy llama socks on her feet.

Clicking off my bedside lamp, I settle down into the pillows and try to get comfortable. Doc assures me I won’t have to wear this stupid brace for much longer.

Next to me, Tess shifts. I lie still, curious to see what she wants, what she craves even in her sleep. She inches closer, unknowingly using the sink of the mattress to roll gently into me, our bodies connecting from the shoulder down. The smell of her coconutty hair oil fills my senses and I breathe deep. If I turn my face, my lips will practically be pressing against her forehead.

I don’t turn. I don’t breach her trust by taking something that wasn’t freely offered.

But I think about doing it. I think about casually kissing her the way I want. I think about holding her, entwining our legs together, feeling how all the soft parts of her fit the hard parts of me. I think about knowing her and letting her know me. All of me. The parts I share and the parts I hide away. Would she still want me? Would she care?

I think about sharing the quiet touches of such a casual intimacy until sleep takes me.

And when I wake, Tess is gone.

Again.

26

“Well?” I say, spinning around in a circle. “What do you think?”

I’ve got my iced caramel macchiato in one hand while the other gestures to the empty office space. Sure, the carpet has some stains that we’ll have to strategically cover with furniture. And the walls need a bit of a repaint, but the view looks out on downtown Jacksonville.

Ilmari and Caleb stand in the doorway, glancing around with confused looks on their faces.

“What am I looking at?” Mars mutters.

“If I had to guess, I’d say this is a modern art installation titled ‘Dreams Unchased,’” Caleb replies, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Okay, A, fuck you,” I say at Caleb. “You weren’t even invited. You’re officially crashing a business meeting right now.”

“Mars invited me,” he replies with a smirk.

“You invited yourself because you wanted to get out of taking Jake to the dentist,” Mars replies.

“Can you blame me?” says Caleb. “You think he’s a prima donna about his sheet thread counts? Go with him once when he has to get a cavity filled and see how quickly you wanna file for divorce.”

I just roll my eyes. Ilmari was strict with me that we only had until 10:00 a.m. to get this done because they leave for an away game this afternoon. “Guys,” I call, snapping my fingers their direction. “Focus here. Look at the space, Mars. Yes or no?”

“You haven’t explained why we’re here.”

I glance between him and Caleb. “I can never tell when you’re serious.”

“He’s always serious,” Caleb teases.

“Mars, why the hell else would I be dragging you downtown at 9:00 a.m. on a Thursday morning?” I cry, gesturing around again. “We’re picking an office space for Out of the Net.”

“That name is fucking adorable, by the way,” says Caleb, taking another sip of his coffee as he does a half-spin. “Do I know why you guys need a physical office space?”

“Uhh, maybe to conduct business out of,” I say, not even bothering to keep the incredulity from my tone. “You need a space to meet with clients, train volunteers. Not to mention that if we want to be taken seriously by local government officials or the conservation orgs, we have to have an identifiable presence. Plus, it’s just kind of nice to have a place to send the mail.”

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