Page 84 of Pucked Up

I took a breath, then curled my fingers into his shirt. The fabric was so, so soft. Just like him. “I like you. I’ve liked you even when I was trying not to. I hated you for it a little bit. I hated myself for it a lot. But I couldn’t stop. I thought cutting myself off would make it easier to bear.”

“Did it?”

“No. I haven’t stopped craving you. I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”

He let out a very slow breath. “Maybe it was for the best. I’m not…” He closed his eyes as he trailed off. “Boden. Mon petit feu. I think I might be very, very broken.”

“Why the hell would you think that?”

He reached out and slid one arm around my waist, taking my weight so I could drop my other crutch and press my hand to the top of his shoulder. He still didn’t open his eyes. “I couldn’t stand to be in there. I couldn’t look at Reid’s face. I c-couldn’t…the way they reported his accident like the most tragic thing in the world was him losing the ability to play for that fucking organization…” He didn’t go on.

Leaning in, I pressed my forehead to the top of his shoulder. “That doesn’t make you broken. That makes you human. You’re allowed to feel hurt because the man you loved more than life itself was treated like an object.”

His grip on me tightened. “I don’t want you because I missed him. You know that, right?”

Why would he think I thought that? I pulled away slightly, and when he didn’t look up at me, I took his chin in my hand the way he’d done with me so many times. “I think we should go talk where we can be alone. Let’s go to your room. It’s closer, and Micah’s in mine, probably trying to eat his room service while jumping on the beds.”

Hugo threw his head back and laughed. “He and Ford did the same thing to my room. Oh, mon petit feu. You don’t need to do this for me.”

“I know, but I want to. I have a really big apology to make, and I don’t want to do it here in this fuck-ass hotel hallway with people trying to listen in.” I didn’t know if there was anyone around us, but I didn’t trust these guys or their phones.

He took another breath, then leaned in like he was going to kiss me. But he didn’t make contact. He hovered a breath away, then leaned back and shook his head.

“If you’ve changed your mind about me—” I started.

“Boden. I think I’m falling in love with you.” No other words had left me so stunned in my life. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry to dropanother thing on your head, but you must know that any hesitation isn’t because I don’t want you with every fiber of my being.”

I forced myself to speak. “So what is it?”

“I don’t want to drag you down.”

Well. If that was the problem, then it wasn’t actually a problem at all. Taking both of his hands in mine, I lifted them to my lips and gave him two sloppy kisses over his knuckles. I would never be suave or graceful like the movies, but I could be myself, and he seemed to like that.

Bits of tension drained out of him as he lingered at the press of my mouth. “Do you think Micah will be back tonight?”

“I think Ford will keep him occupied. He told me to go after you.”

“Did he?”

I laughed. “In so many words. Now, come on. I’m exhausted, and if I don’t get off my feet, you’ll be carrying me the rest of the way.”

“I will carry you anytime you want,” he said, then pressed my crutches back against my hands. He was patient as I threaded my arms through the cuffs and more patient with my slow gait, which was even slower from how long I’d been on my feet.

The walk felt like a million miles, the elevator ride a million hours, but eventually, we were standing in front of his hotel room door with the key in his hand and hesitation in his body.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m going to suck your dick when I’m doneletting you know how much you mean to me,” I told him firmly.

He fumbled and dropped the card, then fumbled twice more trying to pick it up. “Putain!”

I couldn’t help a small smile. Usually, it was him throwing me off. He was the one to strip me down to nearly nothing and rebuild me in a way that I could stand to occupy my own mind. But tonight, it was my turn. Tonight, I would strip away every bit of doubt he had about me—and I’d throw mine along with it.

I hated myself a little more that it had to take a moment like the one he’d been forced to relive in that ballroom, but I wouldn’t be making that same mistake again. I was done pretending what I did or didn’t want.

Hugo was it. Everything else came after. And that did not—even for a second—feel like a compromise.

CHAPTER

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