Page 30 of Never Pucking Ending

I ruffle in my bag for the keys, even though they’re on the top, because making eye contact with him feels too awkward. Is he going to try kissing me? What will I do? When was the last time I was kissed? Maybe I should let him. Maybe—

“I’m not going to kiss you,” he states, with a small smile on his face. “Because I don’t think you want me to. And that’s fine. It’ll give me an excuse to ask you out again.”

He’s…confident.

And sweet.

Why don’t I feel anything toward him other than friendship or work companionship? I know why, but I refuse to acknowledge it. “Is that your way of asking me out again?”

He huffs out a laugh. “I think I’ll ask you another day when you’ve let your head clear. Something tells me you have a lot going on in it right now. But don’t worry, Belle. I’m a patient man.”

I barely know him, but I believe it. “I had fun,” is the only thing I come up to say. Because I don’t want him thinking I didn’t, and I definitely don’t want him thinking my mind has wandered to a different man.

Which it hasn’t…until right now.

And now that Jesse is in there, something tells me I’ll need bleach to get him out.

“Me too.” He opens my car door once I unlock it and wait for me to get in. “Drive safe and let me know when you get home, please.”

It’s a kind gesture that I return and let myself sit in my car for a solid two minutes after he walks to his before I even turn it on.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and count to three. Then I exhale, put the car into drive, and go home to the person who just ruined my first date in way too long. And I have nobody to blame but myself.

CHAPTER NINE

Jesse

I should have realized what a bad idea inviting some of the guys over would be the second Richie Head asked if there’d be alcohol. And since today is the technically the start of our bye week, I figured there was no harm in saying yes.

Except now there’s a heated argument happening in my living room thanks to a combat game my teammates are playing on an Xbox that wasn’t there until two hours ago when they showed up with a console, controllers, and twenty-four pack of beer. When the others came, in flowed more alcohol, snacks, and trash talk that was apparently about video games rather than hockey for once.

At least one of the twenty-four packs of Corona are polished off, and an additional twelve empty bottles litter the kitchen.

“Regretting your life choices?” Moskins asks, bumping my shoulder. Surprisingly, he’s been nursing the same beer since he was offered one. It has to be piss warm by now, but he doesn’t seem to care. A huge change from a few years ago when I’d be dragging his drunken ass to a guest bed.

I’m on beer number two. After the day I had, I decided to say fuck it and enjoy some guy time. I can work the calories off tomorrow. “As long as they don’t break my TV, no.”

Moskins chuckles. “Dude, you just jinxed yourself. I’ve seen Head go against Dawson in Mortal Combat and it never ends well. Head always gets pissed. If a drink doesn’t spill, something breaks.”

I close my eyes and start questioning why I thought this was a good idea. It was a last-minute decision to fill the silence of the house. And it’s been filled. Now I have eight testosterone-filled meatheads loitering about my house playing video games and cracking dirty jokes like we’re at a middle school party.

“Did Belle not want to hang?” he asks, looking around as if he missed her somehow. “Or is she hiding in her room again?”

If she were here, I wouldn’t have invited any of these knuckleheads over. “She’s out.”

Apparently, the tone in my voice is enough to warrant raised brows. “Doing what?” He stares at me before something clicks. “Oh. She’s out. I guess the better question is with who?”

I don’t feel like telling him about Dane, the pompous asshole who knew damn well I don’t play football. He’d wanted a reaction from me, and he wasn’t going to get it. “A childhood friend.”

Moskins studies me, then takes a swig of his beer. “I’m assuming a male one based on the vein popping in your forehead. If you’re not careful, it’s going to burst.”

I flip him off, earning a grin. “She’s allowed to date whoever the fuck she wants.”

Moskins makes a thoughtful noise. “Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?”

I look away, hearing another bemused chuckle from him. I liked him more when he was a grumpy bastard who ignored us when we invited him places. “Where’s your girl? Surprised you didn’t bring her along.”

My deflection isn’t lost on him, but he allows it. “She’s at home with the cat. Said she was in the middle of an audiobook and just got to a good part.”