Page 76 of Falling for the Pucking Grump

Plus, I like the way I have things currently.

This will pass.

At least, that’s what I told myself last night. I had finally calmed myself down when Hollyn snuggled closer, woke up, then took my dick in the exact way I told her to.

On top of me.

Then she fucked me up again.

To her, this might be a way to get away from Weston and realize that she can do a million times better than him. However, to me, it’s a mindfuck.

There’s nothing cute about missing Hollyn, and I’ve only been away from her for fifteen hours, but who’s counting? I took the pussy way out. The one where I just jumped ship and didn’t need to tell her why or where I was going.

We both knew I was on borrowed time, and it wasn’t like I needed to have a party about it.

Though, I could have at least thanked her for last night.

Why? That’s a bit asshole of you.

Running my fingers through my hair again, I try to focus on my teammates playing tonight, but I can’t.

I can’t get her out of my skull.

I should’ve done things differently. I could’ve said or mentioned that we could’ve hung out maybe after the season when the playoffs were over, and I had more time to spend on her.

Time she deserved.

I’m not good at this—clearly—and now I’ve completely blown it.

“You.”

I don’t register the word at first, but when I feel someone blatantly staring at me, I’m struck stupid to find Hollyn standing over me with a glower.

A really sexy glower.

Plopping down in the seat next to me, her curly red hair bounces, and she huffs like she doesn’t want to be here, but she is.

“Are you serious, Reid?” she snaps at me, pinning me down with her crystal blues and speaking shit that I’m barely paying attention to.

Her lips are moving. I see them.

But I can’t help but notice how absolutely fucking stunning she looks after I’ve fucked her.

I’ve fucked her.

This is a mess, and one of us needs to get a handle on it.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, mid-her speaking about whatever. It only makes the pained expression deepen, and for a second, I think she might smack the shit out of me.

“Are you deaf?” she clips. “Why would you do that? You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Right.

Dick move of epic proportions, but I’m not built for this, nor did I want the aftermath of it to screw up what lives so vividly in my head right now.

Clearing my throat, I shift in my chair because what is a good reason to tell the woman that you just slept with the night before that you didn’t want to make things complicated before she got into her feelings about it and took it personally?

I can’t think of one.

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