Page 39 of Puck Off, She’s Mine

I shatter into pieces, choking on his name because I think maybe he does know. I think, perhaps, he's known all along. That's what he was trying to tell me when I showed up on his doorstep. That's what I was so fucking afraid to let myself see. He's been in love with me all along.

He groans my name, burying his face in my throat as he unravels deep inside me. I cling to him, chanting his name like it's the only thing I know. I think maybe it is. He's flipped my whole world upside down until the only thing left is him.

He carries me to the couch as soon as he can move, falling onto the plush surface with me on his lap. For long moments, neither of us speaks. He just holds me, running his hands down my back.

I burrow into him, not sure how to say any of what I need to say. It's not like I've ever had a conversation like this before now. But I can't put it off forever.

"Your dad is here," I finally whisper.

"Yeah." He tips my head back, meticulously scrutinizing my expression. "Is that why you ran?"

"I…" I break off with a sigh and then nod.

"You don't want to meet him?"

"No, I…" Well, this is harder than I thought. "Um, I do want to meet him. I just…I'm afraid he's going to hate me."

Phoenix's brows furrow. "You think he'll hate you?"

"Yeah. You're riding the bench because of me. I doubt he's thrilled about that."

He stares at me for a long moment and then bursts into laughter.

"It's not that funny," I sniff, glaring at him.

"It's fucking hilarious, baby," he says, still chuckling.

"No, it isn't." I shift, trying to slide from his lap, but he immediately grabs me, holding me in place. I settle for elbowing him, which just makes him chuckle again.

"You're cute as hell when you're anxious, you know that?"

"And you're annoying as hell when you're laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing at you," he promises. "I'm laughing at the idea of my dad hating you."

"It's still not that funny."

"You don't know much about my dad, do you?"

"I know enough."

"Clearly not," he says and then chuckles again before sobering. "You know he and my mom got together in a BDSM club?"

"Uh…" I blink at him, not entirely convinced that's something he should know about his parents.

"Not like that," he mutters. "He thought my aunt was there and went looking for her to drag her out. Instead, he found my mom, and ended up rescuing her."

"So…your mom was a BDSM club girl?"

"No. She was a nosy reporter." He smirks at me. "Kinda like this other nosy reporter I know."

"She was doing a story?"

"Yeah," he says. "Anyway, that's how the two of them got together. And if you think that's the worst story you'll ever hear about him, you'd be wrong. He was a fucking amazing player. He was also a major pain in the ass. Ask him how many times he rode the bench for doing some dumb shit like fighting or stealing a Zamboni, and I guarantee he won't be able to tell you."

"He stole a Zamboni?"

"Borrowed. Usually while intoxicated. Often while naked." Phoenix grins. "My point is, he isn't fucked up about me riding the bench because I got into a fight with Corey, baby. And he damn sure isn't blaming you for it."