Page 21 of Absolutely Pucked (Punk as Puck #3)

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

FORD

“Hey, baby.”

I smiled at the sound of Alessia’s voice. It was warm, and a little rough, and so comforting. She was the only person in my life not being fucking weird, which probably had everything to do with the fact that she was the second newest person in my life.

“What are you doing right now? Are you coming to see me?”

She laughed. “No, babe. I wish I could, but I have a mountain of shit to take care of for Deo.”

She’d been tying up all his loose ends now that we’d flown across the country to punch Amedeo’s dick-bag ex in the mouth.

It had been a lovely trip, if not a little short.

We got a single day at the beach before we had to sit our asses back on a plane to Boston, and the thought made me cry because goddamn I needed a vacation.

And there wasn’t one in sight. Sort of.

I had reluctantly agreed to go with Bodie to this Montreal PPHL event thing because there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to let him deal with his dad on his own, but it wasn’t going to be fun and games.

Bodie was definitely not going to let me build blanket forts or jump on the bed, and since Hugo was taking all of Micah’s time, I was stuck with my salad-loving nerd with a too-tight butthole.

“Sounds awful,” Alessia said.

Fuck. I was so tired, I was pulling a Tucker and saying all my quiet thoughts out loud.

“I’m not mad about a trip to Canada. Bodie’s dad is flying us, so we get first-class seats, and the food’s always good.

But I really don’t want to take off right now, considering everything, even if it’s just for the weekend. ”

“Considering what?” she asked.

Fuuuuuck my life. I needed to stop speaking to people altogether until I could get some real sleep and deal with the major fuckup I was currently committing.

“Ford,” she said, warning in her tone.

“Can we talk soon? Like, when I see you?” I asked. It was hard keeping this secret from the people I loved most, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to tell someone over the phone and let gossip spread like wildfire.

She was quiet for a long beat. “Are you in trouble?”

“Not the kind of trouble you’re asking about. I’m safe, I don’t need money”—I did need money, but that was beside the point. I always needed money—“I haven’t made deals with the mob or a demon.”

“That leaves out so much, babe,” she said, sounding tired. “Life isn’t a movie.”

“I know.” I did. I knew that. I just related easier when I could make movie references.

“Are you at work? ”

I was. It had been a week since Killian had moved in with me.

A week since that first shift when I caught him rescuing a child like he was some kind of Hallmark movie hero or something.

A week since I started jerking myself raw because I wanted to fuck him again, despite the fact that it was forbidden.

Or maybe because of it?

I was so twisted up right now it was hard to tell.

“Ford! Seriously, are you on drugs? Because you didn’t mention that, and?—”

“I’m not on drugs. I’m not drinking,” I told her quickly. “I’m sleep-deprived, and I haven’t gotten laid in forever, and I feel like my whole life is falling apart in spite of the fact that it’s barely changed. I don’t know what that even means.”

“I think it means you need a vacation. Let me talk to Deo and see when all of us can get away. He and I can rent a cabin in the woods for all of us.”

That sounded like a dream, but also a nightmare because I couldn’t bring Killian along, which meant leaving him at the house again. Still, if I said no, I was really going to out myself.

“Sounds good. The season is almost over, which means we can bring the dipshit twins, and Bodie and Tucker will have a few weeks before PPHL camps start.” There. That would buy me a few weeks to figure this all out.

“Sounds good. I gotta run, but call me if you need me, okay?”

“I love you,” I sighed at her. Maybe I was clinging a little too hard, but she just laughed, repeated the sentiment, then hung up .

Glancing at the clock, it was well past time for me to go.

Killian had the day off, and when I’d left, he was napping on the couch with Nugget on his chest. I took a few photos and sent them to my secret folder with all the gay hentai tentacle drawings I never wanted anyone to find.

I was well aware it was weird to put Killian with those images, but he was my dirty little secret.

Or…not dirty. That didn’t seem fair.

He was very tidy, showered every day, and cleaned up after himself. He’d even started doing Nugget’s litter box, which was amazing because it was the one thing I hated about having a cat.

He also spoke softly—when he spoke at all. He didn’t intrude, never asked me where I was, always made food for me if he was making something for himself, and was always scarce while I was around.

That part wasn’t great.

I wanted him to feel welcome. Not like some squatter who had imposed himself on my life. Though…that was kind of what he was. In a nicer way.

A squatter I’d fucked and kind of fallen for, then found out he was supposed to be my mortal enemy.

I needed to start writing this shit down. I could write a whole TV script based on the bullshit that had gone on in our small town over the last few months.

Grabbing my keys, I snagged the groceries I’d picked up on my break, then headed out the door.

My hip was aching fiercely. I’d been on my feet a bit too much that afternoon, and all I wanted was to slather on a thick layer of Tiger Balm and drink a cup of tea so hot it burned the top layer off the roof of my mouth.

I made a mental plan to have exactly that on the drive home, and when I walked through the door, my plans were thrown out the window. The whole house smelled amazing, and Killian poked his head around the corner a moment later, his eyes crinkled at the edges when he saw me.

“Hi.” His voice sounded a little less meek than it had over the last few days. “I cooked.”

“I can smell that.” Walking into the kitchen, I dropped the bags on the table and stared at the kitchen. It was immaculate. The man cooked, then cleaned up his mess before dinner was even served?

Who was he, and why had his ex been so shitty to him?

Maybe this was his new leaf. Maybe this was not the man he had been, so I could easily hate the monster but appreciate the new creature that had sprung up from his ashes.

Uhg, no. This was way too complicated for my tired brain.

“What did you cook?” I asked, flopping into the rickety kitchen chair that was going to need to be replaced soon.

The legs were already weak, and Nugget had made it her personal mission to shred the wood down to splinters.

As though summoned, she appeared and rubbed herself around my leg, then hopped up on the counter and mewed at Killian until he put down his spatula and opened his arms.

She leapt into them as though she’d always been a cat who liked to be cradled. Never mind I had a scar on my jaw from the one time I tried to hold her like that.

Fucking. Wow .

“It’s nothing special. I felt like making a comfort meal, and I got paid, so I can actually afford food,” he murmured, speaking into her fur.

My chest constricted at the thought of him going hungry. How long had it been since he’d had regular meals? He was way skinnier than he had been the night we hooked up, which told me it was probably the whole time he was gone.

Christ, I could not think about that right now.

“So, it’s a surprise?”

He laughed and nuzzled Nugget once more before letting her drop from his arms, and she disappeared around the corner. “No. I made it up. When Tucker and I were younger, we were alone a lot. Um.” His gaze was trained down at his feet. “Tucker was not great in the kitchen.”

I couldn’t help a laugh. “Yeah, that hasn’t changed.”

Killian’s mouth lifted into a fond, almost anguished smile.

“Yeah. He burned everything. When we were nine, I got the chicken pox really bad. My vaccine didn’t work, I guess.

When it was obvious he wasn’t going to get it, my parents made him take care of me, and they drove to the Grand Canyon and stayed for a week. ”

My eyes widened. “A week? You were nine .”

My parents were pretty shitty, but god damn .

He shrugged. “They did that a lot. They had a neighbor look in on us. But yeah, he tried to make me oatmeal, and it was so thick and congealed I could lift the whole thing out of the bowl with my spoon.”

“Yikes.”

Killian snorted. “Yeah. He ended up walking to the gas station at the entrance to our neighborhood every afternoon to get the dollar-fifty nachos and soda combo. We lived on that while they were gone.”

“Well.” I had no idea what to say to that. “You survived?”

Killian smiled again and shrugged. “I did. Anyway, I started feeling better once my fever broke, and I couldn’t stand another bite of shitty gas station nacho cheese, so I went through the fridge and came up with this.

It’s like…I guess a sort of chicken and dumplings, but I would never serve it to anyone who knows how to make them properly. ”

Getting up, I leaned heavily on the counter, trying not to wince as I made my way toward the pot on the stove. I could see canned peas and carrots floating in a thick, opaque sort of soup. “It smells good.”

“It is good. It’s cheap and easy, and it fed us for days.” Killian dipped a spoon in, blew on it, then held it to my mouth.

My heart jumped in my chest. Holy fuck, him feeding me was going to make me so hard I wouldn’t be able to function. But in that moment, I couldn’t care. I opened my mouth and tasted it. It was nothing like chicken and dumplings, but it was the taste of his childhood, so I loved it anyway.

“Amazing. Fantastic. Give me fourteen of them.”

He frowned. “That’s…going to be a lot.”