Page 35 of Wrong Pucking Player

Kissing her suddenly seems to snap her out of her shock before she’s staring at me like I’ve committed a murder.

“W-WYATT!” she gasps in horror. “How? Why? What… what just happened?”

“I put your aunt in place for trying to take advantage of you in my presence,” I say as if it’s no big deal.

Before she can say anything, I place her phone back in her hand—something I didn’t realize I even took from her in the first place—before I give her one more consuming kiss that leaves her breathless.

“I got some phone calls to make,” I admit after I break the kiss. “I have a strong hunch you ordered food from your comment earlier, so I’ll go check if it’s here.”

“Wait, Wyatt.” She stops me by grabbing my arm, her eyes desperately pleading for a better explanation.

As to why I just stood up for her when we’re not really a ‘thing.’

“I’m pretty sure internships will be provided housing regardless of applying for one through the organization,” I state what I know about the topic. “Won’t find out the details until after you’ve been appointed to a team or established a position, so until then, don’t worry about it. If you don’t get housing, I’ll gladly pick you up and drop you off if you’re more comfortable with that idea.”

“Wyatt…” She’s still comprehending all of this, which is fine. I don’t want her rushing her thought process and giving herself a headache over this.

“If your aunt or anyone else asks, you’re staying with me. If it means we fake dating each other, so be it. Not like I’m interested in anyone else right now, anyway.” I try to move away but she further tightens her grip around my wrist.

“Y-You’re not dating anyone?”

I glance back to see her genuine surprise.

Why would she think I’m seeing someone else?

“I’d never make a move if I was committed to someone else, Xandra,” I firmly state, so she’s reminded I’m not like half the male population in this small town who does nothing but cheat on their girlfriends and wives for puck bunnies and prostitutes.

“Don’t take too long,” I encourage before I manage to slip my arm from her grasp and open the door. “The food will get cold.” I’m out the door before she can reply, and it’s for my own benefit. If I remained, I know I’ll need to appease my frustration the only way my body is yearning for.

Pinning her against the tiled pink walls and fucking every inch of anger boiling inside me.

I don’t want to think about that woman and her entitlement. To use her niece for years and have the nerve to continue to emotionally, mentally, and financially abuse her just to keep control. The mere thought makes me growl and bite my bottom lip while I’m fishing for my phone.

“Should I involve myself?”

I pause in my beehive stride, realizing I’m already downstairs and passing the living room to see my dad chilling on the couch.

Coach Johnson isn’t here, and neither is Mikayla, which may mean they’re talking to Jayce near the door.

I give my dad a sour look while he pauses in changing the sports channel to meet my intense gaze with his calm one.

“I assumed you two would be reconciling but from the sound of conversation, seems like it didn’t go that route.”

He really is smarter than he portrays to be.

That or he has supersonic hearing.

I bet my dad got all the ladies when he was young.

Actually, nothing is stopping him now from getting anyone he wanted if he wasn’t still in love with the memory of ‘what he could have had.’

“Sadly not,” I mutter, but I shrug. “I’ll deal with it. If I do need your help, I won’t hesitate to ask.”

“Good,” Dad replies and looks at the television screen. “I’m a speed dial away.”

“No one uses speed dial, Dad,” I voice with an eye roll, but smile just a bit.

“Sure, sure. Technology and all that advanced shit.” He uses his hand to gesture for me to go. “I think the food should be here. My phone pinged two minutes ago.”

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