Page 14 of Absolutely Pucked (Punk as Puck #3)

CHAPTER

NINE

FORD

For all that Killian did deserve to suffer, I wasn’t going to let him go hypothermic. Not only was that not in my nature, but that would probably come with some kind of murder charge. Manslaughter? Whatever. I was not a killer, even if I kind of wanted to punch him in the mouth for what he did.

Without either of us saying another word, I bustled him into the guest bathroom, shoved a mostly fresh towel into his arms, then slammed the door shut. “Shower!” I called against the wood.

When I heard the water turn on, I hustled into my room and dug around in my drawer for a pair of sweats. I had an old, beat-up set of Hanes—ugly as sin but warm as fuck. The inside cotton was beading, but it was my comfort outfit, and something told me Ian—no, Killian —needed it.

Fuck. Killian was in my house.

Dropping the clothes in front of the bathroom, I made my way into the kitchen and took out a pot, filling it with water and shoving it on the stove. I wasn’t Boden’s smarmy, fancy ass with his electric kettle, but I also wasn’t a heathen, and I did have tea.

Tea was the thing you made when someone was shivering on your doorstep, right? Not sure there was protocol for that, but I needed to do something.

As the water began to heat, I pulled out my phone and zeroed in on my Favorites list. Tucker’s name was glaring back at me. Daring me to call. Daring me to tell him who was currently washing his butt crack in my shower.

Christ, this was…this was…my vocabulary was shit, and I regretted not having an SAT-level education because I needed words for what this whole thing was.

I heard the door creak open just as the water came to a rolling boil, and I leaned back to call out, “You can put on those sweats.”

I heard another rasp that was possibly a thank-you, but it was obvious Ian—fuck, I had to stop calling him that—Killian’s voice was screwed. The tea would help. And honey. I had honey! I always used my store discount to buy the fancy, local farmer shit we sold at work.

Dropping a tea bag into the mug, I added a liberal scoop of honey and then poured water over it. I spilled half of it all over the counter but found it hard to care. My paper towel holder only had the cardboard tube attached, and I wasn’t about to dig around in the closet for another roll.

It was water. It would dry.

“Mrow. ”

I felt a nudge against my shin and looked down to see Nugget staring at me. “This is a bad time.”

She blinked. Yeah, even if meteors were falling from the sky, the princess needed her dinner. It was a nice distraction, and I dug into the grocery bag I didn’t remember bringing in with me to pull out the can of salmon.

She chirped and spun in several circles, performing her dinner dance as I scooped half the can into her dish and held my breath. She bowed her head, sniffed, then looked at me flatly.

“I can’t go to that evil shop again, Nuggs. They refused to let Jonah adopt a kitten.”

As though she understood, she took a nibble, hesitated, then dug right in.

Fuck yeah! Success. The cans were twice as expensive as the other store’s, but fuck it. I could eat fewer pizzas and have fewer lattes if she’d accept this and not make me go back to that monstrous, ableist joke of a pet store.

The sound of a throat clearing had me jumping half a foot. I’d almost forgotten I had an interloper in the house.

Was interloper the right word?

I didn’t care.

Turning, I eyed Killian up and down. He looked a little better now that he wasn’t freezing.

He was less pale, his fingertips were no longer blue, and his hair had been towel dried.

The sweats were a little long on him, but the shirt fit okay, and he seemed happy enough as he wrapped arms around his middle and let his fingers brush over the soft fabric .

Yeah, I knew that feeling well.

“So,” I said. I gestured at the tea, and he looked both surprised and wary. He didn’t take it. “It’s not poison. I’m not that much of a dick.”

“I know,” he managed to get out. His voice was still a whisper—like he’d been screaming at a concert for six hours. “I just didn’t expect you to be nice.”

“I shouldn’t be nice, you fucking Judas,” I told him as he finally took the cup and sank down into one of my rickety kitchen chairs.

He winced but didn’t try to defend himself, which was…something. Taking a sip, he sighed and cleared his throat. When he spoke, more of his voice came through. That was gutting because I remembered a little too well the way he sounded when he was growling filthy nothings into my ear. “Thank you.”

“What are you doing here?” I finally asked after forcing myself back to the present. I didn’t want to think about that night. I was not interrogating him with a half-hard cock.

He took a few more sips of tea, then shrugged. “I had nowhere to go, and my car was stolen.”

My eyes widened. “Hold the fuck up. Ghost car is your car?”

His brows dipped. “Ghost car?”

“Uhg. Yes. I thought there was a ghost—you know what, never mind. The white car. That fancy-ass car with the sheets in the windows?” I froze. Oh my God, that meant he was living in the car. Killian was living in that car.

What the hell was going on ?

His cheeks and ears reddened, and he looked away. “Yeah.”

I took a beat, then walked around the counter and dropped down into the chair opposite him, laying my forearms on the table. “Where’s your wife? You know, Tucker’s ex? The one you stole and fucked and married while he was in the hospital.”

Killian took a very slow breath, took one more long pull of tea, then set the mug down. “Delia and I are getting divorced. She found someone she liked better.”

I almost laughed. “Oh. Quelle surprise!” He blinked at me, and I rolled my eyes. “What? I know some French. I’m not a total dumbass.”

“I didn’t…that was…” He shook his head. “I don’t think you are.”

“Yeah, well, you must have thought I was goddamn something when you fucked me. Which I guess is fair since I didn’t recognize my best friend’s identical twin brother.”

He met my gaze. “You nearly did.”

I felt my hands begin to shake. “Did you know? The whole time, did you know Tucker and I?—”

“No.” He shook his head and stared down at the table. “I realized you knew him after we started…you know.”

Right. There had been that weird moment where he panicked and tried to leave, and I didn’t let him. That was all on me.

“I didn’t confirm it until I left town. There was a photo of you and Tucker and your other friend from the Paralympics. And an old photo of you on Tucker’s Facebook page. ”

Tucker was never on socials, so that photo must have been old as fuck. I didn’t know what to say to that. I couldn’t ask him why he didn’t stop me because he tried, but I was a horny, stubborn little bastard that night.

And I couldn’t accuse him of doing something nefarious because he didn’t know exactly who I was until it was over and he was gone.

“Were you stalking me? Is that why you kept parking your car here?”

He wheezed a laugh and shook his head. Fuck, he was so pretty.

Even though it was clear he was miserable, somehow, his entire face lit up.

“No. I don’t even know what the hell the universe was trying to do when it sent you into the club that night.

I parked here because it was the only place that didn’t call a tow truck on me. ”

“But you recognized me at the club, didn’t you?”

“As the guy who keeps peering into my windows?” he asked, and I blushed. “Yeah. I recognized you for that.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think . My anger for what he did to Tuck was righteous, but everything coming out of his mouth sounded so honest. God help me, but if he were to tell me right then that he was sorry for what he’d done, I’d believe him.

“What do you want from me?” I finally asked. It seemed like the only safe question.

He didn’t meet my gaze when he answered me. “I just needed a minute to get warm. Everything went to hell in a handbasket, and I know I don’t deserve it— especially from you—but you were the first person to be kind to me in so long.”

Fuck. Fuck my fucking life. Fuck everything .

“You know you can’t stay here, right?” I said. “Does Tucker even know?—”

“No,” he answered before I could finish my question. “He doesn’t know I’m here. I was hoping I could get on my feet a little bit before I saw him again.”

I scoffed. “What exactly are you expecting? Because bro, I know what you fucking said to him in Vegas and?—”

“Shit. Yeah.” He bowed his head lower. “Not my worst moment, but far from my finest. I thought…you know what, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I was the one who did all the damage. I’m not expecting anything, but there’s a lot he doesn’t know.”

“Trying to spin your bullshit?—”

This time, he looked up at me, his eyes pleading. I shut my mouth so hard I almost bit my tongue off. “It’s not bullshit. There was a lot I didn’t know until recently, and he deserves the truth.”

There was a question burning in my chest, and I couldn’t hold it back. “Is that for you or for him? Because disrupting his life when he’s finally fucking happy seems pretty on brand for you.”

Killian sucked in a breath, then deflated. “I…you’re right.”

Once again, that was not what I was expecting him to say.

Everything Tucker had ever told me about his brother seemed so…

wrong. The Killian I knew about was an arrogant, whiny, spoiled brat who didn’t like the id ea of Tucker ever getting to be happy.

And up to this point, his actions had proved that.

So he was either having his come-to-Jesus moment, or Tucker was wrong.

Or both.

“What happened to you?” I blurted, dragging both hands down my face in frustration. This situation was too much. “Why are you living in your car?”

He laughed quietly. Bitterly. “Well, I’m not now. It was stolen today. And let’s just say that this is probably the karma I earned for being such an absolute shithead to Tucker after he lost almost everything.”