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“Neither of us is here often enough for there to be dishes,” Coach Parker shouts jokingly from the living room.
Prudence blushes as she turns to her father’s voice. He’s keeping tabs on me—I get it. It’s not like I’ve been hiding my feelings for Pru. That’s impossible when they rampage through me like a crash of rhinos. She has no idea that she has me wrapped around her finger tighter than the bow around her waist.
A brush of her lips against mine would unravel me.
“Tell that to the plate you left in the sink, Dad,” Prudence chides back. She glances at me, mouthingit’s soaking,as she tries to mimic her father’s mannerisms.
Coach repeats the same phrase a few seconds later, and I can’t help but smile. Hell, I’ve been smiling from the moment Prudence rounded the corner into the kitchen.
I’d challenge any man not to when they’re in the presence of a damn angel. No. Fuck that. No man’s going to smile at my girl again. No man is going totouchher unless it’s me. No man—fuuuuu.
I rake my fingers through my hair as I try to keep these intense, unhinged feelings at bay. I can’t help it though. Iamunhinged. Prudence is making me unhinged by being so close to me yet so far away.
I touch her and my future falls to pieces.
Coach Parker will kick me off the team, and my dreams of playing in the NHL will be gone.
But is a life without Prudence even a life?
Prudence steps aside, gesturing to the sink. “All yours.”
I slide in next to her, her citrus scent infiltrating my body like a drug. I need more.
More, more,fucking more.
It’s a miracle that the plate doesn’t shatter in my hand as I clean it off, my attention on Prudence as she moves behind me in the kitchen. The water’s blasting in the sink but I can hear every one of Prudence’s soft footfalls as she pads around the kitchen. It’s like she rewired my brain. Everything is subordinate to her.
I can hardly breathe as I focus on her moving behind me, hanging on to every single sound. The refrigerator opens and closes. A container slides onto the counter. Cabinets and drawers. Silverware clangs on the countertop.
By the time I put the last plate into the dishwasher and close it, my pulse finally calms down. But when I turn and find Prudence staring at me, spoon sandwiched between her lips, it skyrockets all over again. Add spoons to the list of objects I’m jealous of. There’ll be enough to fill a book by the time summer’s over.
“Dessert,” she says, dipping the spoon into a mug full of ice cream. “There’s more in the freezer if you’d like some.”
Another bite. Another lick.Jesus.
I want dessert but I know I won’t find it in the freezer. I swallow a groan as my eyes travel the length of Prudence and back again. My self-restraint is waning, and Prudence isn’t helping. It’s a good thing I traded my gym shorts for jeans or else I’d have another problem on my hands.
“Although, I’m sure you haven’t had dessert in years, Mr. Hockey.”
I snort. She has no idea.
“Mr. Hockey?”
“I’m working on a nickname.”
“Oh? I’m honored.”
She smiles, turning on her heel and heading toward the archway that leads into the foyer. She hasn’t even left and I feel hollow, all the anxiety that left me returns with a vengeance.
“Good night, Pru,” I say, gripping the island like it’s the only thing tethering me to Earth.
Prudence pauses, her dress fluttering as she turns. “Good night, Silas.”
She makes a quarter-turn before she pauses and looks at me again. “I saw you in the library earlier. Did you find what you were after?”
She was there after all? I’m not sure what I was going to do if I found her, but I wasn’t being driven by rational thought. Something deeper was guiding me. It’s pointing me straight to Prudence.
“I think so.”
