Page 21 of Don't Puck Him

I can feel my cheeks getting hot. I keep my eyes on the path ahead, my mouth sewn shut. How is she making me this angry?

“Is that what you think is going to happen?” She asks.

I try to ignore her, but the image of anything, anything terrible at all happening to the woman standing next to me makes my heart wrench. A let out a noise that sounds an awful lot like a growl.

That’s when Wren takes my wrist and pulls me off the pathway. A few cyclists soar past us.

“Hunter, answer me,” she says, sternly. “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

She is looking at me directly, that chestnut hair with a gleam of amber from the splash of sun, those hazel eyes with bouncing pinpoints of lights boring into me. She is a stunning looking woman to say the least. I hate how she tangles me up inside.

It is my turn to whip my hand away from her, then begin to walk toward the science building. When I don’t hear her trailing after me, I start to feel sick.

Three.

In three days I haven’t been able to put any distance between us. I can’t sleep, can’t stray too far from Wren.

What is wrong with me?

I try to force myself away, to at least go home and change. I have to fight the urge to return to campus, to see what she’s doing, but I decide to text her before Cash wakes up from his entire day off.

I’m sorry.She hasn’t talked to me in three days, and at this point, I will do whatever it takes to have her near me again. She’s mad, and I love that. But I don’t love the avoidance game. Even if I’ve had no issue following her.I didn’t mean to come on too strong.

I sent it without a thought. There is turmoil stirring inside me when it comes to this woman. I don't want to hurt Cash; we have been great friends for so long and suffered the similar agonies that only come along with wealthy family turbulence.

But I can’t stay away from Wren. She is so straightforward and honest, strong, vulnerable. She is wise beyond her years, though I am sure that would more merely simplify the complex tapestry that makes Wren who she is.

She replies to me after only a few minutes. I can’t help the possessiveness that blooms in my chest.

It’s no problem Hunter. But now you owe me.

Anything.It’s a stupid fucking answer.

But it’s the truth.

I really don’t know what I am doing. I feel like a bomb ready to go off at any second. And the only thing that keeps it from erupting is Wren.

11

WREN

Ilook down at my watch. It’s a quarter to ten.

Hunter and I set a date to study together in the carols off the Science B labs. It’s always quiet here. Nobody around. I’m waiting for him to arrive. The wait is both exciting and nerve-wracking.

My eyes are on my biology book, but I’m not registering one word.

It’s him. Hunter. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I know. I’m lost in him.

I sit back in my chair and chew on the end of my pencil. The pink eraser is spongy, and it tastes like charcoal off a scorched marshmallow. I don’t care. I need to think. I chew away.

What am I doing with this guy?Every time he touches me, my body goes wild. But not in a normal boy-girl way. That scares me. There’s something not right about this. So despite the weeks of getting to know him, emotionally bonding with him, liking the way he thinks and his goals for the future, my gut screams at me to run. So I run. I push him away.

But Hunter is so intense. Every look, every touch, every thought he shares bores into my soul.

As I ponder this man in my life, I slowly rock back and forth on the straight chair.

I stop.

---