Page 17 of Puck Off, She’s Mine

"Damn," I breathe, my eyes locked on her.

She startles, her gaze tangling with mine. "Oh. Hey."

I stride toward her, bending down to brush my lips across her cheek. She shivers slightly in response, her body swaying toward mine before she catches herself, leaning away.

"Missed you," I groan softly.

"Phoenix."

I love the way she says my name. It's always supposed to be a warning, but it never comes out that way. It's a plea, every single time, as if she's begging me to keep being this honest with her even though she's supposed to pretend she hates it.

She places her hand against my chest, pushing me backward. I don't really want to get out of her space, but I play nice this time, curious why she's here so early.

"I have a question."

"Yes, I will go with you to prom."

She shoots me a withering glare.

"Was that not the question?"

"I didn't even go to my first prom," she mutters. "Why would I ask you to an imaginary second one?"

"You didn't go to your first prom?"

"No."

"Why the fuck not?"

"I was suspended."

A stupid grin stretches across my face. "Cara Oliver was suspended from prom?"

"No. I was suspended from school. Prom was just a casualty of war."

"Oh, I have to hear this story," I say, motioning for her to spill.

She stares at me for a long moment, as if she's trying to decide if she wants to share or not, and then she shrugs. "I got in trouble for snooping in the principal's office. Apparently, looking through his stuff was 'against the rules', even though he left it out in the open."

I throw my head back, laughing. "Of course you did. Find anything interesting?"

"Enough to get me suspended for a week," she grumbles, clearly still pissed about it.

"What's your dad's name?"

She blinks at me. "Uh, Blake Oliver."

"He played professionally?"

She stares at me for a long moment and then nods. "One season before he broke his leg. How did you…?" She trails off with a shake of her head. "You know what? Never mind. We're here to talk about you and your misdeeds, not me."

"This again, huh?" I grin at her, shaking my head. "Already told you not to believe rumors and gossip, gorgeous."

"And why is that?" she asks, her head cocked to the side, her eyes locked on me.

"Because they're rumors and gossip."

"Or is it because you started them yourself?"