Page 49 of Pucking Bad Boys

Of course. God forbid I dare want something or someone. Mack always gets it before I have the chance.

It’s the fucking story of my life.

The moment I finally succeed in prying Genevieve off me is the same moment the kiss between Talia and my brother ends.

I barely have the chance to notice that Talia looks upset. She turns on her heel and runs into the house.

Mack takes off after her, and while a part of me would like to follow her too to make sure that she’s ok, there is something more urgent for me to do.

I grab Gen’s hand and drag her inside the house.

“Where are we going?” She giggles.

“Your room.” I grind out. “Where is it?”

Gen takes control and guides me toward the stairs. “Top floor. I’m in the presidential suite, of course.”

I barely even notice the luxury of her room. I go on the offensive the second she closes the door behind us.

“What the fuck was that?” I growl.

In typical Genevieve fashion, she crosses her arms over her chest and throws the question back at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid games with me, Gen.” I glare at her.

“I honestly don’t understand why you’re so aggro, Becks. So it could be a number of things. Did you want to switch dance partners with Vaughn? Or is it because you don’t like dancing?”

I’ve never been so furious in my entire life. I don’t even know where to start listing the reasons why I’m mad.

“That kiss.” I bite out.

But rather than apologize for her behavior, Gen twists the situation around. “Yeah, let’s talk about that kiss. What the fuck was that? I’m pretty sure you must have had your fair share of hookups. Or was Bridgeport the only college in the country with no puck bunnies?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I shake my head, confused.

Gen’s glossy lips curl into a cruel smile. “You somehow got worse at kissing than when you were a high school freshman. Kissing a corpse would have been more exciting. You just stood there, rigid like a desiccated fish.”

“That’s because I didn’t want to kiss you!” I roar.

For just a second, Genevieve lets her mask slide off. She looks genuinely shocked. “What? Did you get hit with a puck in the head during the game? I could have understood this kind of confusion from Vaughn, since he got slammed against the boards hard enough to get a potential concussion. But I haven’t seen you take any hard hits.”

“Vaughn didn’t hit his head.” I don’t even know why I tell her that. “What makes you think I did?”

She flicks her dark hair over her shoulder before crossing her arms again. “Because any man on this campus would give their left arm to kiss me. I’m the hottest, most popular woman here. And now that I’m Zeta president, I’m also one of the most influential and powerful people in the student body. So I must have misheard you when you said that you didn’t want to kiss me.”

Un-fucking-believable. “You might find this hard to believe, but you heard me right. I didn’t want to kiss you. I tried to push you away more than once, and you pretty much forced yourself on me.”

If I expected an apology, I’m sorely disappointed.

Gen’s blue eyes harden. “Boo-hoo. A hot girl kissed you. What a terrible thing. Grow a pair, Becks. You’re behaving like a little girl.”

“Consent isn’t a gender prerogative, Gen. I didn’t want that kiss, and I made it clear by trying to put distance between us. If the roles had been reversed, you’d have reported me for sexual assault.”

“Sexual assault?” She barks out a laugh. “Whatever. You got hard. So you obviously wanted to kiss me.”

I can’t believe her. “That’s a physical reaction that has nothing to do with consent. It’s as if I stuck two fingers inside your pussy right now and you were wet. That would not necessarily mean that you want to fuck me.”

“That’s exactly what it would mean.” She argues. “And I mean, if you want to fuck, I could be convinced. But you need to put a little more enthusiasm in it. No more dead fish lips.”