Page 29 of Puck Lust

“Thanks, but my dad is in town on business. I’m going to meet him and get back early.”

“Smart.” Tate winks at me. “Responsible. Using Enver’s ass as a hat because you’re the team noob.”

My chest tightens at that.

Newbie. Again.

Nobody calls Jack a newbie.

He’s been on this team for the exact amount of time I have, but none of the guys playfully accuse him of trying to suck up to Enver.

He doesn’t need to.

He’s a god, and then there’s the rest of us.

And I’m the one who’ll never measure up.

Hiswords, ones I’ve never forgotten, and they cut deeper than any others I’ve ever heard.

“Enjoy your early-bird special,” Tate taunts me as I walk into the hallway.

I flip them off and manage a tight smile before the elevator doors close.

Then, like I’m walking a death march, I square my shoulders and head toward the room.

I drop my bag on the floor once I walk inside the empty room.

The faucet in the bathroom stops running a second later and Jack walks out in a gray wife beater and black basketball shorts. His messy hair falls over his sullen green eyes in that sexy, just fucked way that I’ve fantasized about for too long to admit.

“Jesus,” I say, my jaw dropping. The bruises are angry, dark, and swollen. “You know, you’re not going to be able to wear your cap and sunglasses to the game tomorrow. Everyone will see what happened. They’ll ask. You can’t just shut them down.”

“I can handle myself just fine,” he growls.

“Doesn’t look like it. I told you that fucking guy was bad news.”

Jack lets out a sharp laugh and pulls on his socks and sneakers. “That’s what you’ve been waiting for? A chance to say ‘I told you so’?” He looks at me, his gaze darkening. “Yeah. You were right. Okay? Leaving with him was a stupid decision.”

He springs up from the bed. He’s got a couple of inches onme, so when he backs me against the wall, I’m forced to look up at him.

Which I’m sure he loves because he’s such a goddamn egoist.

“What happened?” I ask in a quiet voice. “Why did he hit you?”

Jack lets out a scoff. “Don’t ask about shit you’re never gonna understand. Go live your perfect little bubble of a life and keep your questions to yourself. My life isn’t up for discussion. Period. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to cry on your shoulder. I just wanna be left alone.”

He pushes past me but I don’t let him go. I grab onto his arm, his muscles tensing under my fingers. He lets out a deep sigh but doesn’t look back at me.

“I don’t know what happened but I’m sorry. I really am.”

That’s when he twists his head toward me, an icy hand snaking tight around my heart when I see a flicker of sadness bleed into his expression.

“I don’t need your pity. Save it for someone who gives a shit.”

I tighten my grip on his arm. “You don’t always have to shut everyone out, Jack. Not everyone.” I take a deep breath. “Not me.”

“Yes, I do. Especially you.” His eyes drop to where my fingers wrap around him. “Just let me go.”

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