Page 35 of My Puckin' Luck
“This is like a rite of passage. A woman gets her man’s jersey and you’ll have to excuse her while she celebrates like a schoolgirl for one minute,” Misty explains.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.” Anastasia still cannot hide her giddy smile. I detect a tear in the corner of her eye.
“I knew you two would get your acts together, eventually. Oh, Saint. Take good care of our girl. She’s a keeper.” Misty hugs mequickly, then releases. “We’ll give you two some privacy.” She retreats and shuts the door behind her.
“Oof!” I’m slammed back to the bed as Anastasia attacks me, straddling me.
She tosses off her sweater dress, revealing the peach colored bra. “How much time do you have until Leo’s here?”
I strain my neck to see the clock in my room. “About five minutes.”
“Better make it a quickie then.” She does my favorite move, popping the clasp on the front of her bra and spilling out those beautiful breasts of hers.
In a flash, I flip her around onto her hands and knees. I rip off the peach panties and yank down my sweats, bringing out my cock at her entrance. “You know what I like best about dating a thick woman?”
She peers behind her, big eyes and a healthy pink glow to her cheeks. “I’m sure you’re about to show me.”
“Damn straight. Plenty for my hands to grip as I thrust deep.” I demonstrate exactly what I mean, driving deep inside of her and holding onto her like she’s my lifeline.
My heart dances all the way to the arena for practice, but I try to act all cool in front of Leo. He drives and makes small talk, and then he plays a rap song he’s into right now.
I take the moment to text Anastasia the color lingerie I desire to see her in next. Only there’s a text incoming from Brady.
Brady: We haven’t heard if you’re attending the memorial for Lilah.
Brady: Here’s the invitation again, in case you didn’t get it.
I did get it, but couldn’t bring myself to look at it. Whatever possesses me, I click into it now, threatening to ruin this happy vibe I have going on from the morning with my angel.
With a deep breath in, I scan the scan the digital invitation quickly, my eyes stalling on the date of the event.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“What’s up?” Leo asks.
“Uh…just a schedule conflict.” The date of the memorial is the same day this coming week of Anastasia’s movie premiere. We’ve talked here and there about attending together, with Nana, of course. Especially when we realized the Puckers didn’t have a game that night.
Brady: My folks and I would really like to see you there. They feel bad about how unsupportive they were, and want to make things right with you.
I’m pulled in two, between the obligation to attend the memorial like I should, and attending the premiere with Anastasia like I want to. My head spins, calculating the time each event starts, then factoring in the unpredictable traffic in L.A. With any luck, I could do both, and arrive right as the move starts with Anastasia. Unless I’m late for it because of traffic and suffer her disappointment.
I wouldn’t dream of asking her to give up her special day to deal with my crap. Even if her support, her holding my hand through the memorial, would give me someone to lean on.
As each day passes together, it gnaws at me how I haven’t yet opened myself up fully to Anastasia about the past. She’s been so patient, and now we’re falling for each other. She deserves to know everything, and I need to stop being a coward and face this.
What an idiot I’ve been? I’m caught in the middle between the two, like anchors tied to both my feet, dragging my mood down fast.
17
AVOIDANCE
ANASTASIA
This entire weekhas been a blur, happening so quickly, I’m dizzy. And Saint’s been acting funny, moody, a little withdrawn. Over morning coffee he asks me again about the schedule for the premiere tomorrow, something I thought I’d already covered with him a couple of days ago after our Friendsgiving meal.
“The studio PR department has me in press interviews with the cast and the producer and director all day long. I’ll have just enough time to zoom to the beauty salon to get my hair and makeup done in the afternoon, then back here to change into my gown. Then the car arrives to pick us up, after getting Nana first. With any luck, we’ll arrive to walk the red carpet on time.” I stop to take a breath. “It’s all so exciting. My first movie.”
I grin and take a sip and peek at him over the rim of my mug. Today’s mug saying,It’s Your Lucky Daywith a little leprechaun dancing on top of a shamrock. Each morning this week, he’s selected a lucky-themed mug for coffee, his way to celebrate my movie, I guess.
