Page 25 of Puck Me Twice
Her face turns red. “Oh? And who are you to decide that?”
“There’s a guest room upstairs. You can sleep it off, and in the morning, I’ll drive you home.”
Mouth open, she gapes at me like a fish.
Leaning forward, I tip my finger under her chin, closing her mouth.
“Occasionally, I’m a decent person,” I tell her quietly. “Just don’t tell anyone.”
She stares at me for a few beats.
And then she breaks into giggles.
“Oh, Sven,” she says, delighted by her good humor, “You are very much a decent person.”
“I’m not.”
“You are to me. You’re helping me out. You—”
Downing the rest of my water, I putter around the kitchen, putting away the glass and clearing the tidy counters.
Vanessa sits on her stool, watching. “Are you upset that I’m here?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re...” She falls silent. “Or are you upset that you have to help me?”
“It’s late. You should probably get some rest.”
“So that’s a yes, then,” she decides.
I’m not going to lie to her. But I also don’t want her to feel bad about the truth.
Feelings are complicated.
And messy.
And I’m not good at them. I stay in my little corner, isolated from everyone else. Sure, I deal with people when I have to—trainers, teammates, whatever. It’s not restful for me to be surrounded by people. I need open space, and Rupert, and my sourdough starter, and—
Vanessa finishes her water, and I take her cup for the dishwasher.
“Are you sure you want me to stay?”
It’s not like she’ll be sleeping in my bed with me. She’ll be all the way across the hall in the guest room.
“It’s fine,” I tell her stiffly.
She follows me up the stairs. Flicking on the light in the guest room, I double-check that everything is as it should be.
“There’s a new toothbrush in the bathroom. You should be able to find everything you need.”
Vanessa nods. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Good night.” Turning on my heel, I make my way across the landing to my bedroom, closing the door behind me.
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I try to recalibrate. It’s totally not a big deal that she’s here. It’s fine. I’m fine. I can just go about my regular routine and—
How the hell am I supposed to lay in bed and jerk off when she’s right there?
