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I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I haven’t been able to leave his side since the second it happened. To be honest, I’m surprised his parents haven’t kicked me out, but even if they did, I don’t think I’d have the strength to leave.

I hate seeing him like this and all it’s done is prove to me that I was right – I am falling in love with Puck Jones. In fact, I think I’m well and truly already there. He’s captured me in a way I was never expecting and it scares the absolute shit out of me.

Puck has said it a million times; he’s not the commitment type, but his actions over the past few weeks have proved otherwise. I’m certain that I’m in love with him and I’m pretty damn sure that he feels the same way. He holds my hand every chance he gets and makes sure I’m seated right beside him, always in reaching distance. He gives me these bright, beaming smiles that make my heart race, and every time we’re alone, he somehow gets his lips on mine.

He’s sweet in a way that I didn’t realize he was capable of, but he’s also fiercely protective in a way that shocks me to the core. Growing up, I hated this guy. I was positive that being with someone like him would be the worst thing I could ever do, but I’m realizing that I’ve never been so wrong.

Last night he was discharged from the hospital and I was worried that visiting hours for me would cease, but his parents have welcomed me into their home and allowed me to stay by his side. Had that been my parents with a guy like Puck, they would have told him to stay far away from their little girl, but Puck’s mom and dad are different. Maybe I’m the ‘good girl’ they’ve always hoped would be able to rein in their troubled son, whatever it is, I’ve never appreciated it more.

I drop down onto Puck’s bed, crossing my legs as I prepare to start searching through the endless options on Netflix, knowing there’s no way in hell we’ll actually end up watching it as his tongue would probably be somewhere around my tonsils. I know we’re just hanging out and we’re nothing official, but for some reason, I’m really struggling to keep my hands off him, despite the fact that he’s trying to recover from some pretty nasty injuries.

Puck’s hand slides across the bed and around me until his fingers are brushing across the curve of my ass. “What’s going on?” he murmurs into the quiet room. “You’ve been extra quiet today.”

I shrug my shoulder and let out a breath. “It’s nothing.”

“Babe,” he says a little more firmly to make a point that he’s not fucking around. “What’s bothering you?”

I roll my eyes at his newfound need to always know exactly what’s going on with me. “It’s Bry,” I tell him. “She reminded me that she should be hearing back from colleges soon and it’s just kind of hitting me that she won’t be here much longer.”

“Why’s that? Where’s she applying?”

“She wants Yale, but Harvard is her backup.”

“Shit. They’re hard places to get into.”

“I know, but if anyone can do it, it’s her. She’s not just a pretty face, you know? Brylee is going to take the world by storm and I hope she gets in, but it’s just going to suck without her here.”

“Hey,” he says, giving my ass a firm squeeze. “I plan to be stealing all your spare time anyway so really, there’s nothing to worry about.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t help the grin that stretches across my face, making me look like a love-sick idiot. “Really, now?” I laugh. “You think you have what it takes to be able to hold my attention and make me forget that I’m missing my best friend?”

“Babe,” he says with a grin of his own. “Don’t pretend that you don’t already know just how fucking good it can get. You don’t need to worry about forgetting Brylee, you need to worry that I’ll have you forgetting your own fucking name.”

“Big talker,” I laugh. “You’re pretty damn confident there. How can I be sure you didn’t just have luck on your side that night? After all, you were lucky that I let you anywhere near me. Maybe you were just lucky that you hit all the right spots.”

Puck grabs me and pulls me in hard against his side, making me fall back to his bed in the process. “You want to test that theory? I’ll show just how fucking ‘lucky’ I can be.”

“Stop,” I laugh. “I’m not screwing you while you’re in pieces.”

“Come on, Court. I’d hardly call it pieces. I’m not even that hurt. I’m fine.”

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