Page 30 of Puck Love

And my mouth was suddenly as dry as the Sahara.

I tore open the package and chomped a bite of some peanut butter concoction that tasted like dust, my pulse skittering wildly. Low blood sugar was no joke. I must have been on the brink of madness. Nothing else made sense.

“Could you go any slower? I’m tired of looking at your butt,” I groused around a mouthful of protein bar.

Jake gave me a WTF look as he pulled up his trunks and headed for the rocks. He climbed to the top of the biggest one, gave an up-nod, and took a flying leap into the dark water.

He emerged with a whoop, flinging his hair and grinning like a fool. “Come on in.”

“No, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

Okay, maybe a little physical exertion was exactly what I needed. I chowed the rest of my protein bar, changed into my swim trunks—with my back to Jake, ’cause I was still being weird—then did a cannonball into water so frigid my balls shriveled on contact.

“Fuck! It’s freezing, asshole,” I yelped, treading furiously to keep my limbs moving.

Jake’s laughter rang like a bell, echoing in the cavernous enclave. It wasn’t vindictive amusement at my expense, though.No, this was pure joy and appreciation for something that brought core-level happiness. I had a feeling this was Jake Milligan’s happy place.Interesting.

“It’s a little chilly,” he agreed, swimming toward me.

“A little? I’m gonna start talking like Mickey Mouse in a minute.”

Jake chuckled. “You just have to keep jumping to warm up.”

He got out of the water and jumped in again, practically landing on top of me this time. I growled and instinctively went after him, diving under and pulling him with me. I wasn’t sure how deep it was, but I was a strong swimmer and Jake obviously was too. He shook me off easily and tackled me the second I resurfaced.

We went round and round, wrestling like schoolboys. We even used the swing as a catapult, lunging aggressively and dunking each other till we could barely breathe.

It was…fun. But he didn’t appreciate the sucker punch to his biceps that sent him flying near the rocks. He didn’t hit anything, but he was pissed with a capital P.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Jake glared, chest heaving. “I’ll live, but you can go fuck yourself.”

Ugh. No one frustrated me more than Jake fucking Milligan.

I was a nice guy. I was fun, loyal, friendly. I could communicate with almost anyone…except Jake. I never got the balance right with him, and the frustration made me clumsy. And angry. I wanted to fight him, knee him in the nuts, wring his neck.

My toes curled for purchase on the mossy rock as I grabbed his arm. I wasn’t sure why or what I was thinking. I should have let him go, dried off, and prepared for my upcoming torturous hike with the enemy.

I loosened my grip and glared. He returned my glare times ten and huffed, so I reached out to give him a good shove and lost my footing. My hand slipped from his chest to his throat…and I didn’t let go.

Surprise flared in his eyes and probably mine too. Then his breath hitched, and get this—he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip. And it was…sexy.

Like really fucking sexy.

Holy shit.

What was going on?

My cock swelled in my trunks on cue. I was light-headed, dizzy with a feeling so intense, I was in danger of passing out. I wasn’t angry anymore…I was turned-on. Maybe I had been for a while, and this was me finally cluing in.

Confusing for sure, but I wanted to touch him, and damn, he looked as if he were totally on board. Could that be true?

No. No way.

Jake’s gaze dipped from my eyes to my mouth and?—