Page 181 of Playing the Pucking Game

My reprieve only lasts a few moments because, before I know it, I’m in the driver’s seat with her sweet scent surrounding me.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” I tell her honestly as I back out of the space.

The emerald-green dress she’s wearing fits her like a glove, and I’m not sure what it’s doing to her tits, but fuck me gently.

Forcing my eyes to stay on the road, I cringe when she lets out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Maybe that was true earlier. Pretty sure I’ve ruined it now.”

“Not even close, Parker. Even on your worst days, you’re still the most beautiful girl in the world.”

The second the words leave my lips, the air around us turns thick.

“You…um…you don’t need to try and make me feel better.”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, stopping myself from assuring her that I’m telling the truth.

We drive in silence for a few minutes before I take a turn she wasn’t expecting.

“Where are we going?” she asks, although it soon becomes obvious when I pull into a McDonald’s.

“When I was a kid and something had gone wrong, my dad would always bring me on a trip to McDonald’s as a treat to try and cheer me up.”

“He was a good man,” she says quietly, making my heart constrict.

“Yeah,” I say, forcing the word past the lump of emotion now clogging my throat. “He was the best.”

I lose myself in memories of the man who taught me everything he knew, the man I try to live up to every single day of my life.

Before I know it, we’re at the window to order and I have no idea what Parker wants.

“Uh…what do you?—”

“Whatever used to be your happy food,” she responds.

I smile, unsure that what I used to eat with Dad back then would cut it now.

I glance over at her sad face before placing a ridiculous order for the two of us.

With her lap loaded with food plus two huge sodas sitting in the drink holders, I continue toward my family home.

Parker sits silently beside me, chewing on one of her pretty gold nails, her eyes locked on the world passing us by. I desperately want to ask if she’s okay, but I already know she’s not.

She’s just had her heart broken by a jerk who didn’t deserve to have access to it. Of course she’s not okay.

Lifting the hand I have resting in my lap, I hesitantly reach over the center console.

She might not want my touch or support, but right now, all I can think about is keeping her close.

She startles the second my fingers brush her palm. Her head twists toward me, her eyes wide with surprise. But she doesn’t pull her hand away or break our connection; instead, she shifts slightly and twists her fingers with mine.

Heat rushes up my arm and shoots straight down to my dick.

Get it together, Storm.

That is not what this is.

Just be the guy she needs.