Page 40 of Pucking Forbidden

“Oh!” Her eyes fly open wide, her cheeks turning pink. “Oh. Well, then.” She coughs delicately and grabs her drink, taking a sip.

“Driest desert in all the land,” Diego says, taking another long pull from his bottle.

“Shut the fuck up, Diego.”

He just chuckles, amusement written all over his face, the asshole.

“Actually,” Sutton says, and I know I’m going to live long enough to regret whatever is about to come out of her mouth assoon as I see the mischievous look on her face. “It’s been raining in the Sahara recently. A lot, as a matter of fact.”

Diego cracks up, holding his hand out for a fist bump. When I don’t give it to him, Sutton does. Naturally.

He flicks his gaze in my direction, all smiles. “I like her, Silvestri.”

“I will fucking end you,” I say flatly. It’s not a threat, just a simple statement of fact. There are guys on this team I’d trust alone in a room with her. Diego Tapia is not one of them. I wouldn’t trust a pet goldfish alone in a room with him.

“I’m just saying,” he protests with a laugh.

“Say it to someone else, motherfucker.” I splay my hand across Sutton’s shoulder. Don’t care if the move is possessive and territorial. She’s mine. End of discussion.

She snuggles up against me with a sigh, her eyes locked on Diego. “You’re a strange man, Diego Tapia.”

“He’s a goalie. They’re all strange, princess.”

“Uh, fuck you very much,” Logan says from my other side, flipping me off. “I’m normal as fuck.”

“Right,” I say, drawing the word out. Everyone at the table laughs, earning glares from Logan. “You’re the strangest goddamn goalie I’ve ever met, Moreno.”

It’s not a lie. Half of them, like Diego, are basically squirrels on caffeine. The other half just don’t talk at all. Logan is an outlier. He’s too normal to be a goalie, and yet, he’s one of the best I’ve ever seen. It’s fucking strange.

I respect the hell out of him, though. Out of everyone on this team, I relate to him more. He gets what it’s like to sacrifice his own happiness for the people he cares about. He did that shit for years to protect his sister.

Judging by the way he and Peyton are cuddled up together in the booth, though, he took my advice. It’s good to see. Hedeserves his own thing, his own peace. Looks like she might be it for him.

“See? Out of the Sahara, and still a cranky bastard,” Diego says.

“When did you go to Africa?” Micah asks a moment later, his brows furrowed.

“He didn’t. Diego is talking about sex,” Sutton says matter-of-factly. “Apparently, talking about it is the only action he gets. Kind of like when he’s in the goal.”

I throw my head back, laughing loudly as Diego’s mouth pops open in shock. Maybe she fits in a little too well with my teammates. And maybe I fucking love that.

Who am I kidding? There isn’t a damn thing about her that I don’t love. Five years didn’t change my feelings for her. If anything, they only grew more intense, more desperate. Now, she’s here. She’s mine. And I’m constantly on the verge of just…losing it over her. I feel like I’m constantly walking on cloud nine.

I’m happy in a way I’ve never been. It’s peaceful. It’s easy. And it sets me on fire like nothing ever has. I want my hands on her every minute of the day. She consumes every thought in my head.

The shit with her brother feels a whole lot less complicated with her in my arms, looking at me like I’m the only thing she sees. But that shit is complicated, though. It’s hanging over us like a storm cloud. And little by little, I find myself more uneasy about keeping the truth from her.

A big part of me just wants to tell her the whole ugly story and get it over with so it isn’t between us anymore. The other half knows that if I do that, she’ll hate him. It’s an impossible choice. I keep something from her that she deserves to know, something that may eventually tear us apart. Or I tell her, and watch itpotentially tearherapart. How do I make that decision when the consequences are so massive?

I don’t want the past to matter anymore. And yet, it’s standing like a roadblock in our future. What am I supposed to do? Risk destroying us…or risk destroying her? Either way, she loses. Either way, she gets hurt.

Christ, I wish I’d hit Jamison again after our last game.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Sutton whispers, pressing her tits up against my side.

“You,” I say. It’s not a lie. I’m always thinking about her. Every minute of the day.

She beams up at me, and my damn heart stutters and stalls before racing away. That’s the power she has over me. That’s just what she does to me. I’m hers, all the way to my soul. Every atom, every quark, every thought.

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