Текст книги "Pucked Up "
Автор книги: Helena Hunting
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 22 страниц)
“How do you get to decide what kind of guy I am based on the little you actually know of me? I’m not looking to hurt Sunny. I care about her. I’m trying here, Lily, but you’re not giving me much to work with.”
She plants her hands on her hips. Oh, man. Here we go.
“I’m ready!”
I look up to see Sunny at the top of the stairs with two wheelie suitcases. It seems like she prepared for an all-inclusive vacation rather than a camping trip. I sprint up to help her. It’s unnecessary. She’s more than capable.
The guys come out of the kitchen with Sunny’s parents. Everyone shoves their feet into Birks and heads outside. I have my bag with me since I’m planning to leave at the same time, even though I don’t have to be at the airport for hours.
The door opens to reveal not one of those beat-down camper vans, but a for-real camping trailer. Where people can sleep. It’s old, but seems well maintained. Still, I don’t want Sunny stranded anywhere with Kale. I also want to check out the inside so I can see the sleeping sitch.
Daisy hugs everyone while Robbie shakes hands with Ben and Kale, then hugs Lily and Sunny. I stand back, observing the interactions, wishing I was going instead of that Kale fucker. When it’s my turn, I go for Lily first. It’s like hugging a steel pipe. I shake her boyfriend’s hand, then I turn to Kale. He’s looking too smug. I need to fix that.
I take his hand and squeeze harder than I need to. “Take care of my girl for me.” I know Sunny’s going to be annoyed at me for saying something she likely considers sexist, but I need to make it clear I’m in this for the fight.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about. I always do.” He gives me a pat on the shoulder, his satisfied smile pushing my last damn button.
I lean in close and give him a slap on the back, lowering my voice so only he can hear. “Not as well as I do.” I wink and turn to Sunny.
She’s not happy. I can tell by the pinched look and her pursed lips. I pull her into my arms and hug her tight. Putting my lips to her ear, I whisper, “He gets you for a week. I only got you for two days.”
I take her face in my hands. If her parents weren’t here I’d tongue-fuck the shit out of her mouth. Instead I brush my nose against hers, then kiss the tiny dimple on her left cheek. “Have fun, Sunny Sunshine.”
“I’ll try.”
“But not too much.” This time I press my lips softly to hers.
She holds onto my forearms, fingernails digging in. “I won’t.”
I’m relieved when Benji and Kale get into the front seats, and Lily and Sunny get in the back. I can see right inside. There’s a table with cushioned seats that turn into a bed. I grab the door before Sunny can close it and peek in. There’s definitely room for a four-person orgy in here.
“Wow. This is spacious. How many does it sleep?” I wait for one of them to meet my eyes.
“There’s two double beds,” Kale says from the front seat, back to being a smug jerkoff.
“And we have tents,” Sunny says.
Her panic is clear. She’s expecting me to say or do something to cause a scene. I want to. We need to have a conversation, but it isn’t going to happen now. It’s a shit situation. Still, I drop my bag on the driveway and cram myself into the confined space. I’m blocking her parents’ view since I fill the entire door.
This time I lay one on her. She gasps, and I slide my tongue between her parted lips. At first her hand goes to my chest like she’s about to push me away. I suck on her tongue, and she fists my shirt, making a plaintive noise that tells me she’d like me to continue. Lily coughs, reminding me we have an audience. I’m completely aware of this.
I break the kiss and bite the inside of my cheek when Sunny tries to keep our mouths connected. “I’m sorry I keep messing things up. I get it. No more bunny pictures. I promise. Just remember how much fun we had while you’re away with your friends.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket and hold it up, snapping one of the selfies I usually hate while I kiss her on the cheek.
I point at Lily. “Make sure no bears eat her.” Sunny’s confusion matches my frustration as I close the door.
Everything good about this weekend evaporates as they drive away.
“I hope she has an okay time.” Daisy pats her hair.
I’d forgotten Sunny’s parents were standing in the driveway with me. “Yeah. Me, too.” I pick up my bag. “Well, I should be heading out. I have to pick up a buddy at the airport on the way to the camp.”
Daisy goes in for a hug. I turn my face in time to avoid the hairspray assault. “It was nice of you to stop by, Miller. I hope we get to see you real soon.” She pats my cheek and sighs.
Robbie stays behind while I throw my bag in the back of the SUV. I shake his hand, wanting to get the hell out of here. I need to call Randy and check flight times, and I need to call Violet. I’m not feeling too good about how things ended here. I also want to text Sunny, and I need to use the voice-to-text function so it doesn’t take a year.
“Thanks for the hospitality, Robbie. I’m sure I’ll see you before the season starts.”
“You take care of yourself, Miller.”
He stands by my door as I turn on the engine. As I’m about to pull out of the driveway, he knocks on my window. I roll it down. My palms are clammy, and I have the lip sweats. “’Sup?”
He inhales and releases the breath slowly. “I know Sunny lied to us.” Leaning on the edge of the window he makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “The neighbors said this vehicle has been here since late Friday night.”
“I didn’t want to get her into trouble—”
He holds up a hand. “Sunny’s a big girl, but she’s still my little girl, so I’m going to ask you to be careful with her. I like you, Miller. I think you’re a nice kid, and I know the media skews things, but I’d hate for my baby to get hurt by someone who’s stringing her along.”
“It’s not like that. I really like Sunny.”
“Then I suggest you step up your game.” He taps the hood of the car as he strolls up the driveway, Andy following.
His parting words don’t make me feel better at all.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE KICKER OF PANTS
I drive around the corner and park the car. I don’t have to be at the airport for another seven hours. I have an entire day to kill, and all I can think about is how this weekend went from awesome to total shit. All because of Kale. Well, all because of me and the bunnies and the stupid pictures I can’t control posted all over Instagram and Tumblr and wherever the fuck else. And Kale.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket. I have messages from Sunny:
I wish weed had alone time b4 I left.
Thx 4 cuming 2 visit me.
I had fun. <3
I send her one back, along with the selfie, using voice-to-text so I don’t mess it up:
Me too. I can't wait to see you again. Message me when you get to camp if you have reception.
When I’m done I set the picture as my wallpaper, and then I post it to every social media platform I have access to, and tag her. I add the caption “Spending time with my favorite Canadian girl.” It’s not as in-your-face as I’d like to be, but I think it gets the point across. If any pictures are going up of me with bunnies, I’ll combat them with nice ones of me and Sunny.
I check my emails while I wait for a reply. Randy’s sent two. I use text-to-speech to listen to those. Apparently his flight times have changed, and he’ll be in a few hours earlier. He says he’s cool to wait at the airport in the bar however long he has to. Since Sunny’s already gone, he won’t have to. I shoot him a quick message instead of an email so he gets it right away. Sunny still hasn’t responded, so I call Vi. She picks up on the third ring.
“Buck.” She says my name like a swear word. I don’t even get a chance to say hi before she fires off threats. “Care to explain the hat trick message you left for me yesterday before I beam myself to Canada and beat your ass with a nine iron?”
I forgot about that message. Since I know I’m not in real trouble, I decide to be a jerk, hoping it’ll make me feel better post Kale-introduction. “You don’t golf.”
“I might start. It seems like it might be fun if I’m aiming for your balls. It’d be challenging though, since they’re the size of peas.”
“My balls are the size of Canada, and everyone knows the world maps are wrong, and Canada’s the biggest country out there.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s Australia, or maybe it’s China or Russia. Geography was never my thing. Seriously, Buck, I’d like to believe you’re smart enough not to brag to me about bagging three bunnies when you’re supposed to be with Sunny.”
“I hat tricked with Sunny.”
“You did what?” She screams so loud, my ear starts to ring. Her voice is muffled when she says, “Everything’s fine. I’m talking to Charlene. She bought another purse off the shopping channel.” There’s a few seconds of fumbling around and then, “You better explain yourself. Quickly.”
“So, like, Sunny had a boyfriend in high school, right?”
“What the hell does this have to do with a hat trick?”
“I’m getting to that. So get this, he was terrible at sexing.”
“Everyone’s terrible at sexing in high school.”
“That’s not true. I was awesome.” At least that’s what the girls said.
“Says you. I’m still not understanding what this has to do with hat tricks.”
“Apparently the guy never gave Sunny an orgasm. Not once.”
Violet gasps. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” Clearly I’m not alone in thinking that’s poor boyfriend form. The first thing a guy should do is figure out what gets the girl off, especially if he wants a repeat.
“If that’s true, it really is terrible.”
“What do you mean, ‘if it’s true’?”
“You’re sure Sunny didn’t tell you that to boost your ego?”
“Why would she do that?”
“To make you feel good about yourself?”
“Do girls really do that?” I can’t imagine lying about not having orgasms, and Sunny isn’t much for dishonesty. That’s more my area. And I usually just leave out details so they can draw their own conclusions.
“I don’t know. Sometimes? Maybe. I’ve lied to Alex about . . . never mind.”
“You can’t not tell me.”
“You don’t want me to finish that sentence, Buck. I promise it won’t make a difference to this conversation, other than causing irreparable emotional damage.”
“I highly doubt that. What have you lied to him about? Sex stuff? Orgasms? About never having one before?” I try not to think about the two of them together in the locker room last spring.
Vi barks out a laugh. “Hardly. I’m like a coming machine. I can have, like, eighteen orgasms in a row. It’s awesome.”
Girls don’t realize how good they have it. Unless I learn Tantra, I’m good for a max of six a day, and that’s spread out over a twenty-four-hour period. “So if you didn’t lie about orgasms, what did you lie about?”
“You’re sure you want to know?”
Vi has a tendency to overshare and say exactly what’s on her mind at any given time. If she’s censored herself, it has to be bad, which makes me want to know even more. “I’m sure.”
“Once I lied about my level of leakiness.”
“Leakiness?”
“Leakiness.”
“What does that even mean?” I regret the question as soon as I ask it.
“How wet I get.”
I gag. “Shit, Vi. I didn’t need that information.”
“I told you you didn’t want to know, but you wouldn’t listen. It’s not my fault I’m a naturally lubey person.”
“Okay. Enough. I don’t want to hear any more. Sunny wouldn’t lie about her lack of orgasms. She looked way surprised every time I gave her one.”
“Maybe that’s her O face.”
I might agree if Sunny’s reaction to me going down on her had been different. “I also gave her first orgasm by mouth and her first sex-gasm, so there’s my hat trick. It totally kicks Waters’ fake hat trick’s ass, right?”
Once, a long time ago, a rumor circulated that Waters had slept with three different chicks in one night. It wasn’t true, but it caused a shitload of issues for him when Vi found out about it. Eventually he set things straight, and it ended up being a prime example of how the media can twist information.
“You do realize you called to brag about bagging my fiancé’s sister, right? Super classy, Buck. Who else have you told?”
“No one. I called you because I can’t tell anyone else. And I didn’t bag her; we had sex. Lots of it. All over the damn house. Believe me, if I could talk to anyone other than you, I would, but I can’t. So fuck you, Vi. I’m oversharing. You do it all the time.”
She sighs. “I guess you have a point, and I’d rather you tell me than one of your hockey buddies. Those guys have big mouths. So obviously Sunny forgave you for being relationship-challenged.”
“Yeah. She got over it.” That’s not one-hundred-percent truth, though, considering where she is right now versus where I’d like her to be.
“That’s good. I’m glad. So I’m taking it your weekend’s been good?” Crunching follows.
It could be cereal. Or chips. I’m hungry. “It was up until an hour ago.”
“What happened?” She doesn’t immediately throw the blame at me.
“So you know how all those bunny pictures got me into trouble in the first place.”
“I’m familiar, yes.”
Vi’s disapproval is obvious from her tone. I’m glad this is a phone conversation. “Well, I guess Lily, Sunny’s bitchy bestie, found out about them—”
“That shouldn’t be a surprise.”
“Yeah, well, Lily doesn’t like me much. She convinced Sunny to go on a camping trip way up north, like, super far away. They left right before I called you.”
“You have to go to Muskoka today anyway, don’t you?” There’s more crunching. My stomach growls. That cinnamon bun didn’t cut it, no matter how delicious it was.
“Yeah, but I would’ve had the entire day with her. Plus it’s not just Lily and Sunny going. Lily’s boyfriend is coming and so is his bearded hipster-twin, Kale.”
“I think bearded hipster is redundant. Don’t all hipsters have beards?” Vi snickers. “Wait. Kale? Why is that name familiar?”
“Because it’s a vegetable?”
“Maybe. Does he spell it with a K or C?”
“Who cares what he spells it with? He’s ultra granola with crunchy green turds in it. And he dated Sunny in high school. And now they’re camping together this whole week.”
“Oh.” She chews loudly for several seconds, maybe processing. “Did you meet him?”
“Yup. They all showed up at the house this morning, right after Robbie and Daisy came home early.” I roll down the window and recline the seat. A girl in running shorts and a sports bra jogs by with her dog. I don’t even check her out.
“Was everything okay with the ’rents?” Vi’s well aware of how protective Sunny’s parents are.
“It was mostly fine. Sunny didn’t tell them I was coming to visit. They almost walked in on us getting it on. Robbie knows I spent the weekend. He had the neighbors watching the place.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Surprisingly, he didn’t seem too upset. But he gave me the ‘don’t fuck with my daughter’ talk.” Now that I think about it, it seems like Sunny might have purposely forgotten to mention my visit, considering we planned it last time I came to see her. It makes sense if she did it to make sure we had the house to ourselves; otherwise all the sexing wouldn’t have happened.
“You’re lucky. Imagine what it would be like to know your daughter is dating a half-man-half-yeti who’s boned fifty percent of the women in the continental US.”
I ignore her dumb joke. “I haven’t had sex with that many people.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m sure I haven’t had sex with a hundred and fifty million people. But Lily thinks I’m playing Sunny.”
“Of course she does. It’s not like your reputation with the ladies is going to evaporate because you’ve started dating someone.”
The sun peeks through the trees and hits the windshield. I flip the visor down and put on my sunglasses to keep from being blinded. “I haven’t been with anyone since I met Sunny.”
“I know that, but Lily doesn’t. You’re still at the bars with your buddies all the time, and the pictures with the bunnies haven’t stopped showing up. And then there are the parties at Lance’s with the mostly naked chicks. Where the media is concerned, you’re not acting like a guy in a relationship. People believe what they see, even if it’s not true. You know that better than anyone. It’s the situations you get yourself in to that are the real problem, Buck. Anyways, we’re off topic. This is about the vegetable dude and Sunny going camping. You said they dated in high school?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure about that?” Her tone makes me nervous.
“That’s what Sunny said. Why?”
“I think Sunny only had one boyfriend in high school.”
“So she didn’t do a lot of dating. That’s not a bad thing.” The asshole in me likes the idea that Sunny didn’t get around during those prime years for hormonal experimentation.
“Not necessarily . . .” She hedges. “Hold on a second. I need to ask Alex something.” She covers the receiver. Her voice is muffled and then she’s clear again. “Charlene returned the purse. I’m talking to Buck now. No. No. Don’t even.” There’s some fumbling. “I won’t touch the MC for a week if you do that! I mean it! Stop.” When Violet turns her attention back to me, she’s slightly breathless. I don’t want to think about what was happening on the other end of the line. “I was right. Kale’s the only guy Sunny dated in high school.”
“But that was a long time ago, so it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? She’s gotta be over him. She said she broke it off, so that has to count for something. Apparently he got his ass dumped again recently, so it shouldn’t be a big deal that they’re going on this camping trip.” I need some confirmation this is going to be okay.
“I don’t know, Buck.”
Her lack of confidence is disconcerting. “You’re not making me feel better about this.”
“Did she tell you when they broke up?” Violet asks.
“During senior year, I think? That was two years ago, though. That’s plenty of time to move on, isn’t it?” Two years seems like a long time, but then that’s me. I waited all of two days to move on when I found out the girl I’d been dating was screwing around with half the hockey team at her college, two states away. Then I fucked all the depression out. It wasn’t the most effective strategy, but it kept me busy. That was five years ago. Then I got drafted.
“In theory.”
“Why in theory?”
“They started dating when Sunny was a freshman and Kale was a sophomore. He stayed an extra semester after graduation so he could be with her. He planned to take the last semester off to work and then they would go to college together. She broke up with him because he was being a clinger and not very motivated or something. That’s Alex’s version of the story. I don’t know Sunny’s side.” I must not say anything for a long time as I process this shitload of important information. “They dated for four years, Buck,” Vi finally adds.
“I can do the math.” That’s almost as long as I’ve been playing professional hockey. “I can’t believe he never gave her a goddamn orgasm. Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with that guy, and why the hell is she in a camping trailer with him for a week? We’ve been together for like, what, three months, maybe a little more? I’ve already given her, like, fifty. She should’ve bailed on that trip and come with me.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not all about the orgasms.”
“Well, it should be. That’s the first thing I give myself in the morning, and the last thing I take care of at night. They’re essential. Orgasms are like breathing.” I’m panicking. I know this. I’m also sharing a lot of information I probably shouldn’t—not that this whole conversation hasn’t been an epic overshare. We should be drunk so we can forget all the crap we’ve just told each other.
“Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. You’ve been slutting it up for a long time, but in real relationships that don’t involve bunnies, it’s about a lot more than the number of orgasms you can provide. Sex is awesome. Orgasms are awesome. Someone else providing those orgasms is the best thing ever, but that’s not the only thing that matters.”
The panic turns into full-blown hysteria. Okay. No, it doesn’t, but I’m kinda freaked out. In reality I already know this—it’s why Sunny and I hadn’t gotten past finger-fucking until this weekend. We talk a lot, about real stuff and not just hockey. But I put a lot of eggs in the orgasm basket, hoping it was going to take us to another level of seriousness.
“I put all this energy into making Sunny feel good this weekend. No one has ever given her what I have. That has to mean something.”
“I’m sure it does, Buck. But you also have to remember that for the past three months she’s been seeing pictures of you with hockey hookers all over social media. One weekend without media coverage doesn’t negate that. I’m sure there was more to it than a fuck-a-thon. At least I’m hoping there was. Did you act like an asshole when she left with veggie man?”
“No.” I reconsider my answer. I might have been a bit dickish with him; only because he was being that way with me. “Maybe a little. But mostly no.”
“Care to elaborate?”
I explain what happened with Kale and try not to leave out details or paint myself in a more favorable light. It’s hard. I feel like shit. Sunny still hasn’t responded to my text.
When I’m done, Vi exhales into the receiver. “You haven’t done anything wrong. He provoked you, and you responded. I’ll ask Charlene and maybe one of the girls at work for their opinions, because I’ll be honest, I think it’s hot when Alex gets all possessive over me. Remember that guy in my building, Melvin? The one who smells like dick cheese and two-year-old socks?”
Vi is notorious for going on tangents. “I remember him, yeah.” I have no idea what this has to do with me and Sunny and her being with her ex-boyfriend who she happened to date for four years, a detail she conveniently left out. It seems like a significant one. I kind of want to be mad at her.
“He used to ask me to hang out all the time. Even though he wasn’t a threat, Alex always wanted to get it on in the living room when he came to my place. I think it was so Melvin could hear my MC love professions.”
“MC?”
“Monster cock.”
“For Christ’s sake, Vi. I have to play hockey with this guy. How am I supposed to be able to look at him, let alone talk to him, when you tell me shit like this?”
“I’m making a point. And you guys walk around naked in front of each other all the time, so you know what Alex’s junk looks like. It’s homoerotic, if you think about it. Anyway, I like that Alex is on the club-over-the-head, barbaric side. It’s hot. I don’t know that Sunny feels the same way I do.”
“So you’re saying I might have fucked things up again?” I can’t win at all.
“I don’t think you fucked up. All women are different. Sunny’s not a bunny, so the whole orgasm-a-thon, while awesome, isn’t what it’s about between you and her.”
“This dating crap is hard.”
Violet laughs. “It sure is. Relationships aren’t a game. No one wants to get screwed around, except maybe people who like a lot of drama and want to end up on those terrible reality dating shows.”
“I’m not playing Sunny, but now I have to wonder if she’s playing me.”
“Because of this camping trip with the ex.” It’s not a question.
“And she left out how long they dated. When we were talking, she made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but obviously it is. I want to be pissed, but I don’t know if I have the right to be.”
“Honestly, if you weren’t pissed, I’d be concerned. If it was another girl I’d say she was playing mind games on you, but Sunny’s . . . well . . . Sunny. It’s hard to know what her motivation for leaving that out is unless you talk to her.”
“I guarantee most of this is Lily and probably Waters.”
Vi sighs. “Maybe, but Sunny’s her own person. She can make her own choices. She has to know you’ll find out eventually, which could be the point. You need to consider that you’ve spent your entire dating life playing girls, so Sunny’s going to be wary.”
“I never played anyone.”
“Maybe you didn’t string the bunnies along with false promises, but you’ve perfected the art of smooth talking. You can say almost anything to a girl, and she’s going to drop her pants for you, which is honestly amazing. Your body hair is like its own ecosystem. It’s a wonder you’ve never lost anyone in there.”
“I don’t get your obsession with my body hair.”
“I don’t get why we have body hair in the first place. On our heads I can understand, but the rest of it seems so unnecessary.”
“It’s protection.”
“Maybe for you it is. I’m sure yours is made of titanium and makes you bulletproof, but for women around the world it’s yet another source of unnecessary pain. Oh, hey, I can’t believe I haven’t asked you this yet; is Sunny as granola as I thought she might be?”
“She takes care of her business.”
“Really? Wow. I was almost positive she was a natural girl.”
“I don’t think anyone’s natural these days.”
“Truth. Look, I gotta go. Alex has the Scrabble board set up, and I’m going to kick his ass.”
“Have fun with that.” Scrabble is my least favorite game in the entire world. “Thanks for the advice and your usual overshare.”
“No problem. I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask for advice on relationships, but I’ll help where I can. Sunny will only tell me so much. She’s smart enough to know I’ll share the important shit. Make sure you contact her every day. Even if she’s in the middle of nowhere and can’t get the message. You need to be as persistent as a yeast infection.”
“What if that’s not enough?”
“You can’t control other people’s feelings. All you can do is put yourself out there and hope she’s going to feel the same way.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“You’ll move on. But you can do this. Relationships are scary. Especially new ones with guys who have seriously questionable reputations for being womanizers. Sometimes it’s easier to go back to what we know because it’s familiar and comfortable rather than put ourselves on the line. If you want this—if you want her—it’s you putting yourself on the line, not the other way around. Call me tomorrow if you need to; Alex has a workout scheduled at nine in the morning. I’m planning to watch him sweat while I pretend to exert myself on a recumbent bike.”
She hangs up with a screech and a giggle.
I went into this weekend with a plan to get past third base with Sunny. I succeeded. Not once did I consider the possibility that going back to her small-dicked, orgasm-challenged ex-boyfriend would feel like the safer option to her.
Robbie and Violet are right. I need to step up my game. Otherwise I might lose Sunny to Bushman Tiny Dick.
