Page 35 of Puck to the Heart
“Why me?”
“Barnes,” I lowered my head to place my lips close to her ear, breathing her in. “What do you mean?”
“Whyme?”
Everything in me halted, trapped between the simmering wanting and needing to reassure something that is clearly bothering her, because I didn’t know how to tell herwhy. She’d becomesomuch more than the woman who hated me on sight, who saved me when I froze, who threw herself so frequently into everything she did. What would it be like to be loved like that? I saw somuchin her, and if she’d deign to give me a fraction of herself, I would take it and be grateful. Instead of saying any of that, though, I stupidly said, “Iwantyou, Barnes,” emphasizing this basest of needs by scraping my teeth against the fluttering pulse point on her neck.
Her body went rigid between my hands, and the shaky inhale as she sucked in a breath was the worst sound. “Oh. For sex. I thought—never mind.”
Years ago, a stray puck hit me in the chest when I stepped onto the ice during practice without pads. It broke a rib and bruised my sternum, and I’d been unable to breathe deeply without pain for weeks.
It hurt less than whatever stupidity I just uttered.
“Olivia.” When she tried to free her hand from mine, I pressed her fingertips to my lips before letting her go. “Sex is absolutely on the table, possiblyonthe table if you’re into that.” My weak effort to make her laugh only made her narrow her eyes at me. “I won’t lie to you, Olivia. Yes, I want to fuck you. But I wanteverything. I want to bring you sour candy and let you steal my clothes when you stay over. I want to read your weird stories that I don’t understand so we can talk about them later. I want to see you in the stands at my games and see how pretty you can blush when you watch me stretch.” The pink I’d seen before returned, slowly turning her cheeks from bloodless back to the soft warmth I’m used to. “I wantyou, and everything that entails, and I fucking wish you understood that. But I will takeanythingyou give me. Any tiny fucking thing you want to share, to be close to you.” The dark made it easier; maybe if she couldn’t see how I felt written all over my face it might make the weight of such stark honesty less painful.
“Anything?”
“Anything, Barnes.”
The moment clung to its delicate balance as she considered me, her face unreadable. Maybe blurting out my hopes and fears and feelings for her in one fell swoop scared her off.
And the delicate balance shattered with the loud vibration of her phone against the frame of my car. “Shit,” she screeched, dropping the device in her haste to answer. “I have to answer, it could be?—”
“I know. Answer it.” The panic in her voice was enough to stuff everything I’d bared to her back down deep where it belonged. I wasn’t sure if I should resent the caller or be grateful to them for stopping me.
“Hello?” Her voice shook for a moment until she let out a gust of relieved air. “Dad. Hi.”
I concentrated on my own phone, walking a few feet away to give some semblance of privacy.
From the half of the conversation I heard, Olivia’s father updated her about his appointments and physical therapy progress. Based on her tightened grip on the phone, she barely had a grip on her tension, trying to hold herself together by squeezing her arms close to her chest. I hated seeing her so sad and clearly missing her father, so I made a snap decision. Crossing back to her, I held my hand out. Blankly she stared at my hand before shifting her eyes to mine. I opened and closed my hand, holding my other hand up to my ear to show her what I meant. Arching one eyebrow at me and scowling, she turned halfway away, cupping her hand over the phone.
“Barnes, give me your phone.”
With a little slashing motion, she waved her hand at me, shooing me away.
“Come on, Olivia, let me?—”
“It’s nothing, Dad,” she said, directing a chilling glare at me.
Or maybe it would be chilling to anyone else, but I just thought it was cute.
“Hi, Olivia’s dad,” I called just loud enough to be heard over her.
She flipped me off, sighed, and handed me the phone.What the fuck are you doing?She mouthed.
I flipped her off with my free hand as I pressed her phone to my ear. “Mr. Barnes?”
A gruff voice greeted me. “Who is this?”
“Ash Wilder, sir.” Olivia invaded my space, getting as close to her phone in my hand as she could. I stood straighter, using the extra inches of height I had on her to keep her from hearing. Instead of pushing her away, I wrapped one arm around her, pressing her closer against me and keeping her there so she couldn’t reach higher. With an exasperated sigh, she tried, and failed, to push away from me while her dad spoke.
“You’re the one I have to thank for bringing Livy home?”
“You don’t have to thank me. She was upset, and I wanted to help.”
A beat of silence. “That was very kind. Thank you.” His voice lowered as though he knew she was trying to eavesdrop. “She needs more people like that in her life.”
There was obviously so much about her I didn’t know, butthatimpressed on me what Ididknow. Holding her closer to my chest, I continued, telling him my main reason for interrupting their conversation. “Mr. Barnes, I wanted to ask if you’re available for a visitor next weekend? We’re playing the Carolina Hurricanes, and my coach has a soft spot for Olivia. I thought you might like to see her again.” Olivia stopped trying to pinch my side through my jacket and looked up at me, a flurry of emotions flickering over her face.
