Page 91 of Pucking Sweet

Ouch.Fucker.

He leans in, that hand back on my shoulder like we’re fucking friends. “Look, I know you, Nov. I know you like games, and I know your favorite game is the chase. So, I’m doing you this favor.”

I shrug his hand away again. “What fucking favor?”

“Consider it a warning,” he clarifies, his tone cold as ice. “I’m in the game now too.”

Something dark and heavy churns in my gut. Are Cole and I seriously about to fall out over our PR director? Am I about to lose my only real friend on this team?

“Who’s next?” Wednesday calls.

Clearly done with me, Cole raises his hand and calls out, “I’ll play.” He steps around the camera tripod, heading over to the table with the water and tortillas.

“I’m playing too,” I say, shouldering past Woody.

“On your marks then.” Wednesday points to the tapeXs on the floor.

I unscrew my water bottle and take a deep swig, filling my mouth. Cole does the same. Then we’re each handed a tortilla. He gives a nod, and I slap him as hard as I can. Even as the guys behind the camera cheer, he doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t spray his water. Neither do I. Suddenly, this all got very un-fucking-funny.

I’m barely back on my mark before he’s backhanding me with his fucking tortilla. I spit a little water in surprise, swallowing the rest. “Dude—what the fuck?”

He spits his water out on the carpet. Then he lunges, tackling me to the floor. We hit the table as we grapple, scattering the tortillas and bottles of water.

“Whoa—hey—this is not how you do the tortilla challenge,” Wednesday shouts.

“Guys, what the fuck?”

‘Hey, break it up!”

“I’m not gonna fight you,” Igrunt. “Getoffme—”

Cole glares down at me, his hips pinning mine down as he presses his forearm to my chest. Fuck, this guy’s so strong. “You’re done chasing her, understand?”

“Dude, what’s your fucking problem? No chick is worth this,” I say, twisting a hand free and punching him in the ribs.

He grunts, absorbing it. “She is. Now, get there faster, and I’ll stop.”

“Guys, knock it off—”

“That’s enough—”

Two pairs of strong hands pull him off me. I blink up from the floor to see Sully and Woody with hands on him, holding him back.

“What the fuck is this?” Sully says, looking from Cole to me.

“Yeah, I thought you two were tight,” says Paulie, eyes wide with confusion.

“We are,” I pant from the floor.

Cole just keeps his gaze locked on me. “We’re just working through a puzzle here, guys. Give Novy one more minute to solve it on his own.”

As they all look down at me lying spread-eagle on the carpet, realization sinks deep.

“Got there yet?” Cole asks.

Sitting up with a groan, I nod, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, I got it.”

God, he’s fucking right. The problem with chasing someone like Poppy St. James is that she’s the kind of girl you catch tokeep—and no woman worth having would ever want to be caught by me. Worse, I don’t know the first thing about catching someone to keep them. Cole knows, andIknow, that if I keep playing my fun chase games, I’ll only end up hurting her.