Page 54 of Puck Lust

My eyes sweep over the faces around me as I walk deeper into the room. They land squarely on Jake O’Callahan from the New York Renegades.

I bite back a smirk.

Jack is gonna love seeing him.

I ball my hands into tight fists, my heart doing a little jump in my chest.

Shit. I was doing so well not thinking about him.

A server passes with a tray of highball glasses and I grab one, shooting it back with the hope that it’ll take the edge offthe inevitable because there’s no way for me to avoid him tonight.

And truth be told, I’d welcome the chance to pummel his ass into the shiny tile floor. Yeah, that might be the perfect antidote for the rage plaguing me.

The amber-colored liquid burns the sides of my throat and resets my mind for a fleeting second.

Until my eyes land on Jack.

And then it all comes rushing back to swallow me whole and spit me right back out.

My heart pumps hard, rattling my chest.

Fury knots in my gut as I stare at him, my spine stiffening as if I’m bracing for the impact of another blatant rejection.

The tips of my fingers turn white from clenching the glass so tightly.

How the fuck could I have been so stupid as to think there was a way to break through his self-centered, dickheaded shell?

I tried so hard to hide behind the belief that my feelings for Jack were a one and done kind of thing. As a young and naïve teenager who was panicked about his future, it was understandable that I’d be confused about my feelings for a guy I pretty much worshipped.

Or so I told myself when Jack stripped me of any shred of confidence I may have had after being left in the dust by him.

Did he even understand how hard it was for me to do that stuff with him? To open up and be vulnerable in a way I never have before with anyone? To reject every lie I’ve told myself since that first time he kissed me, to finally accept the truth about how I feel…about who I really am and what I want?

What a fucking jerkoff.

He used my emotions against me as retaliation for something I did as a freaking kid.

I was scared and he shattered my heart years ago.

And the other night, he did the same fucking thing.

He used me to get what he wanted, and then cast me aside like I was any other faceless cock.

As usual, all the attention shines on him where he stands in a group with Sam, Jase, Lucas, and Bryce Maxwell, who’s Jase’s brother and Sam’s teammate. I stare hard at the back of his head, imagining flame-tipped daggers stabbing into his skull.

It makes me feel a tiny bit better.

But I’d be much happier if he choked on the olive he just popped into his mouth.

I grit my teeth but my eyes refuse to stray. God, he’s sexy as fuck in that BOSS black suit. No tie, though. Just a starched white button down open at the collar like he’s rebelling against the establishment. Jack Larson does what he wants and plays by his own rules.

Yep, that’s about accurate.

His dark hair hangs over his eyes in that just fucked way, his clear green eyes popping against his tan skin.

I place my glass on a passing tray and grab another, a frustrated sigh hissing from my lips.

“Carter Van Kleef,” a smooth voice says from behind me.

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