Page 19 of Puck Lust

I bite back a laugh when I look at VK. His face is borderline purple right now. He clears his throat and motions to me.

“This is Jack Larson. He also plays for Oakland.” He pauses. “Jack’s the one who got us the passes to get in tonight.”

“Thank you so much!” she squeals and claps her hands together. “I am so excited, I could pee myself right now!”

Charming.

VK brings a hand to the back of his neck and pastes on a forced smile.

Is he seriously fucking kidding me with this girl?

Sam offers Livvie a beer but she waves it away. “Thanks, but there are way too many carbs in that. I only do lite beer.”

I guzzle the rest of mine and snatch the bottle from Sam’s hand. “Thanks, I love carbs.”

VK flashes a hint of a smile in my direction.

Livvie smooths the back of her hair down. It’s so long, it skims her ass. Maybe it’ll get caught on someone passing by our table and they’ll end up dragging her away. Hopefully permanently.

“Lane Maxwell is so hot. He’s totally on my list, by the way, so you’d better hope I don’t get any alone time with him,” Livvie says to VK, giving him a nudge. She turns toward the stage and I stare at her, silently willing her head to explode. It probably wouldn’t even make a mess since odds are that it’s completely empty.

“Do you want to meet him?” Sam asks. “The guys usually hang out afterward, but It’s a pretty chill show tonight and I’m heading back there to tell Brixton to break a leg.” He nodstoward the stage. “Come on, I’ll take you back for a few minutes.”

Livvie’s hands fly up to her overfilled lips. “Yes!”

She doesn’t even wait for Sam before she runs toward the stage.

“So, Livvie is really something.” I slant a look at VK. “You guys must have some insightful conversations.”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, she’s, ah, pretty cool.”

I grit my teeth and pick at the corner of the bottle label. “You guys been seeing each other long? I mean, you just got out here, right?”

He rubs the back of his neck again and averts his eyes. “She and I dated on and off when I played for Washington. When I got traded, she moved down here to go to school.”

I nod. “Stanford, right?”

He slices into me with a look. “Cosmetology school, actually.”

A tight smile stretches across my face. “Well, at least you’ll always look pretty.”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the table. I really have to stop sounding like a jealous, jilted ex. It’s his life, his choice to be with that dim bulb.

There’s nothing between us and there never will be, so why should I give a damn?

“Hey, guys,” Masterson’s booming voice jerks me from my thoughts. He and Tate appear at the table, all smiles with a pack of hot young girls surrounding them. Sam walks back over and I make the introductions, noticing that Livvie is still MIA.

Backstage.

A tiny part of me feels bad for VK. He talks to the guys, but I don’t miss his glance over at the far end of the stage. A rush ofanger floods me. If this isn’t proof that Livvie is a complete dipshit, I don’t know what is.

Lane Maxwell is a great guy. He’s talented as hell, too.

But he’s also a notorious playboy who gets more ass than a toilet seat.

How the hell could she even look Lane’s way when she’s got VK on her arm?

I squeeze my bottle tight, fingertips turning white when the minutes pass and she still doesn’t appear.

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