Page 89 of Arrogant Puck

I take his hand, not comprehending much of what he’s offering because my ears are buzzing. My fingertips are vibrating. My toes are hot. What the fuck did he do to me?

He turns on the shower and gets in. He faces the shower head the opposite way and says, “Get your ass in here.”

I step in and he faces the shower head to us once the curtain is closed.

“You always do this?” I ask as he lathers soap on his hands.

“You’re the only person that knows this bathroom exists.”

“Not even your mom?” I blurt.

He pretends not to hear me as he washes my stomach and then slides his hand down between my legs.

“Not even my mom,” he says, staring into my eyes. “Turn around.”

So demanding…

I turn around, feeling his hands wash my ass. There’s something about his touch right now that feels like so much more than a hookup.

I turn around and wrap my arms around him, allowing the water to spray me straight in the face. His arms pull me tighter, and we stand under the stream like this for a minute.

When I glance up at him, he kisses me.

Chapter 32

By the time seven o’clock rolls around, I’m starving and too fucking tired to cook. I order Thai food from the place down the street—pad Thai, green curry, spring rolls, the works. Enough for four people because I’m not an asshole, even if she thinks I am.

When the delivery driver calls from the front gate, I take the walk down my driveway to meet him. The evening air is cool against my skin, and I find myself thinking about Sage. About the way she looked at me while taking off her clothes. The sounds she made when I made her orgasm. The way she tasted and writhed from my tongue. How she licked my come.

Fuck, that was so fucking hot.

My dick twitches in my pants at the memory, and I have to adjust myself as I walk. This is going to be a problem. A big problem. Living with her, seeing her every day, pretending to beher friend when all I want to do is pin her against every surface in my house and make her scream my name.

I point up at the darkening sky, talking to the only person who might understand. “You knew it. Didn’t you, you bastard? You knew she was going to turn me inside out.”

And for the first time in three years, I realize I’m smiling. Actually smiling, not the cold smirk I use to intimidate people or the fake grin I put on for cameras. This is real, and it makes me feel lighter somehow. Like maybe Archer’s looking out for me after all.

I grab the bags of food from the delivery guy and tip him generously before walking back up the driveway. The house feels different now with Sage in it—warmer, more alive. Less like a mausoleum of my failures.

She’s in her room when I get back, so I walk to her doorway and lean against the frame. She looks up from her phone when she senses my presence, and her breath catches slightly. I love that I have that effect on her, love the way her pupils dilate when she looks at me.

“Ready for dinner?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

She follows me into the kitchen, and I can feel her eyes on me as I unpack the containers. We take everything to the living room, settling onto the couch with enough space between us to be proper but close enough that I can smell her shampoo.

She grabs the remote and starts scrolling through Netflix, finally settling on something called Love Island. I watch in horror as people in bikinis start dramatically arguing about nothing.

This is Season 10 Episode 4, and I have no idea what’s going on.

“You watch this trash?” I ask, unable to hide my disbelief.

“You don’t? This is pure gold,” she says, her eyes lighting up with genuine enthusiasm.

I disagree completely but keep my mouth shut. I’m supposed to be her friend, and friends don’t shit on each other’s terrible taste in tv shows. I try to focus on my pad Thai instead of the screen, but I can’t help getting sucked in when the contestants start screaming at each other over some stupid drama.

When the episode ends and rolls into the next one, Sage turns to me with a satisfied grin. “See? Hilarious.”

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