Pucked Love (Pucked 6)

I slip my shaking, clammy fingers into his warm palm. I’m stiff from kneeling for so long, and I wobble unsteadily as Darren helps me to my feet.

The uneasiness that’s settled low in my belly flares and claws its way up, twisting through my stomach, into my chest, until it clamps around my throat. My pearls feel too tight and not tight enough.

What have I done? What if he breaks up with me over this?

My lashes wet with each frantic attempt to blink back the tears. All it took was one mistake to unravel two years. I feel as though I’ve tried to build a house of cards on the precipice of a mountain.

“It was an accident.” The words crack like shattering glass.

“I’m aware it was unintentional.” Darren frowns. “Why are you crying?”

“I broke a promise.”

He inclines his head—it’s more acknowledgement than it is agreement. “And what do you think that means?”

I lick my lips, my mouth dry, palms sweaty. “That you’re going to . . .”

“I’m going to?” he prompts.

The words stick in my throat, like I’ve tried to swallow a pill without water. “I shouldn’t have listened to Violet. I should’ve messaged you first. I didn’t think. I-I-I—”

“Charlene, stop.” He places his wet thumb against my lips, and I taste my own sadness.

Darren takes my face in his palms. I memorize the feel of his fingers sliding along the edge of my jaw, consider what the absence of his touch will be like. Remember how the fear that Darren could be traded at the end of the season has plagued me all day.

I brace myself as he tips my head up. “Look at me.”

I have no choice but to comply. I try to stop my chin from quivering, but I’m too unnerved to manage my emotions.

He sweeps his thumbs under my eyes as new tears free themselves. “Do you think I’m angry with you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then what are you so upset about?”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “I-I—” I have to take several deep breaths to calm down and organize my thoughts. “You didn’t want anyone to know.” I motion to the lingerie and surrounding sex toys. “And now they do. So I thought maybe . . . it might mean that you’d—”

He waits for me to go on.

“End this.” The words barely carry.

“End this?” His expression shifts to confusion.

“Us. End . . . us.” My stomach churns at the thought. Losing Darren would mean giving up a lot more than a boyfriend. He’s connected to almost every single important person in my entire world.

His eyes flare. “Do you honestly believe I would walk away from you over something so trite?” His jaw tics. “Have I ever been that rash in my decision making?”

“No, but—” I bite my lip and drop my gaze. It’s hard to look at him when he’s this intense. His severe beauty is more than I can handle sometimes.

“Is it unfortunate? Yes. Will it create unpleasant questions? Most likely, yes.” He traces the contour of my eyebrow, sweeping along my temple. “Help me understand what’s happening in this beautiful head that would make you come to such an extreme conclusion.”

“I just thought, I don’t know. I broke a promise. The only promise. I guess in my head it’s the same as if I’d gone back on an NDA.”

I’ve taken great pride in my ability to keep our private life private. Well, I mean, obviously I talk to Violet about the things I can, but I never tell her what really happens behind closed doors.

“Did you happen to write an exposé chronicling our sex life in an attempt to blackmail me in addition to this?” He makes a sweeping motion to encompass the circle of toys and lingerie.

“No, I just gave all of your closest friends a very vivid peek into what we do when no one else is watching.” Now that I’m not quite so worried about Darren breaking up with me, embarrassment is setting in.

His cheek tics, not with a smile exactly, but a hint of mischievous humor makes his eyes glint. “I’m sure they’re having a very interesting conversation about it at this precise moment. And I’m even more certain questions will follow for both of us, which is why we need to discuss how this changes things.”

“Oh.” Wow. I went way overboard with the internal drama on this one.

“Come. You’re shaking; you need to sit.” He keeps hold of one hand and wraps his other around my waist, guiding me to the couch.

I drop to the cushion and immediately spring back up, face mashing into Darren’s chest. His fingers curl around my arms. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine.” Shit. I forgot how thoroughly I prepared for any possible scenario this evening, which is saying something about my state of anxiety and might explain why it’s been bouncing around in my clit so hard.