Page 24 of Flagrant Foul (Totally Pucked #3)

Teddy “T-Dog” O’Reilly

Am I well rested? No. Not particularly.

Am I okay with it? Absolutely.

Strange as it sounds, it turns out the combination of being severely sexually frustrated and sleep-deprived is exactly the push I needed to barrel through my fear of rejection once and for all.

The past few days have been interesting, to say the least. I’m still not sure whether Mae actually told me to say whatever filth I have been, or whether I imagined it, but either way, it’s the best advice I’ve ever been given.

Talk about freeing. God, it’s amazing. I can breathe again.

I can get breath in and out, using my full lung capacity, because for the first time in years, I’m not using half my energy to stop myself from telling Sev how I feel, or what I want.

Do I know exactly what I’m doing? Not really, no. I’m not sure presenting myself in varied states of undress is a solid enough seduction plan. I think to qualify as a bona fide plan, it should probably be a little more robust or involve other steps, but for now, it’s all I’ve got.

Is the lack of a better plan going to stop me?

Also no. Because it turns out the wall I built around myself wasn’t safe like I thought it was.

It was brittle and sharp. It was hard being prickly and unapproachable all the time.

It was exhausting. It was meant to shield me.

To keep people out and stop me from getting hurt, but it didn’t work.

I’ve been hurt over and over, despite how hard I tried to protect myself, because at the end of the day, the walls I put up weren’t walls at all.

They were a cage.