Page 104 of Pucking Sweet

Weaving my way through the cars, I loop around the far side of the outdoor bar area, my feet sinking into the sand of the beach. The sun has all but set. Now the ocean is a pale blue gray under the half-moon. The surf rocks in and out, small whitecaps foaming in the sand. I can’t hear it over the music coming from the two stages at Rip’s.

A few people wander along the water’s edge—a couple holding hands, teenagers with a pair of dogs. I stop, taking in the figure of a lone woman standing in the surf fifty yards away. She holds her little wedge sandals in one hand. Her skinny jeans are soaked to the knee.

“Poppy,” I say on a breath, the tension in my chest uncoiling. I kick off my shoes, leaving them in the sand as I go to her. The music fades with the bright lights of the bar as I enter that realm of the in between where the ocean meets the beach. “Poppy!”

She jolts, not turning around. “Go away.”

Oh, fuck. Is she crying? I run the last ten yards to her, my feet sinking deep in the sand. “What’s wrong?” I reach for her, but she pulls back, splashing away from me.

“Just go, Colton. I don’t want to see you right now.”

That tension coils right back inside my chest. “What happened?”

“Ask Lukas,” she calls over her shoulder.

That stops me in my tracks. The surf crashes against my calves, pulling at my ankles as it drags sand over my bare toes. Anger churns in my stomach, making me feel sick as I watch her walk away.

“Is she okay?”

I close my eyes, trying to control the shaking of my hands as I slowly turn. Novy is crossing the sand toward me. “What the hell did you do now?”

He stops ten feet away. “What did she say?”

“Nothing,” I growl. “Except she doesn’t even want to fucking see me. What did you do, asshole? What did you say to her?”

He groans. “Look, I just got a little tongue-tied.”

Seeing red, I barrel toward him, ready to pound him into the sand. “I told you what would happen if you fucking hurt her!”

“It was unintentional,” he says, raising both hands. “And she clawed me right back, I’ll have you know. I’ll need therapy to unpack all the baggage she threw at me.”

“You’ll need therapy and a new fucking spleen.” I lunge at him.

His forearms go up to block his face as I take a swing. Then we’re tackling each other to the sand. We roll, punching and elbowing. I get him under me, but the sand gives way too easy, and he frees his arm, punching me in the ribs.

“Fuck,” I wheeze. The man hits like a hammer. “I told you to back off.”

“And I’m telling you I can’t,” he grunts, flipping me down to the sand.

“Stop it!” Poppy appears beside us. “Lukas—Colton,stop. I mean it!”

The fight goes out of me as I glance over his shoulder and see the look of shock and disgust on her face. I lie flat on the sand, letting him right himself. He scrambles off me and gets to his feet in a shower of sand. I shut my eyes, throwing both hands up over my face.

“Poppy, look—”

“Don’ttouchme, Lukas.”

That has me on my feet. I blink sand from my eyes as I follow her voice, moving to her side. Her lips are parted as she huffs, cheeks pink. She ran to us, leaving her shoes to be swept away by the surf. Her eye makeup is smeared from crying. Her long blonde hair is caught in the ocean breeze. Fuck, she looks devastating.

And angry.

And sad.

I made my girl sad.

All the breath leaves my chest as I sigh, looking between them. “Please, just talk to us. At the very least fill me in too, so I know why you’re so upset.”

She turns to me, crossing her arms. The wind sends a few strands of her hair fluttering across her face. “Tell me about the game.”