Page 12 of The Puck Charmer

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“You’re smiling. What are you thinking about?” she asks.

“Tyler’s sisters.” I roll my eyes. “They’re so annoying.”

“I sense a few stories.”

“Many, but you need to shower.” I step up to the window and she glances out before I pull the curtains shut to give her privacy, even though the house is completely secluded. “This room has a nice view of the pool.”

“The pool is gorgeous, and that bed is bigger than my apartment.”

I laugh at that. “You should be nice and comfortable in it tonight.”

She plants a hand on her hip. “Alek, I am not staying here.”

God, she’s cute.

“Right, I forgot. I’m staying at your place. Do you have two bedrooms?”

She frowns and looks down. “Well, no…”

“A sofa?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll sleep on that then,” I say.

“Why would you do—” she stops talking abruptly, and shakes her head. “You know what, I’m just going to shower. We’ll argue about it later.”

“You know, I’m really good at arguing. I was on the debate team in high school.”

“I believe you,” she says.

“Jump in the shower. I’ll grab some sweats and a T-shirt and leave it on the bed for you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

I look her over. “You okay, Alyssa? You don’t feel faint or anything?”

I expect the death glare, but the sweet smile I get instead squeezes the air from my lungs.

“You’re sweet to worry about me, Alek. But I’m good. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

“I kind of figured that.”

Her forehead crinkles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Go shower.”

She walks away, and I dart into the room I’m using and riffle through the dresser. I gather her up some clothes, and set them on the bed for her. Then I jump in the master bath shower myself. I scrub the dirt from my hair and body, and once I finish and dry off, I tug on a pair of clean jeans, and a T-shirt.

I listen outside Alyssa’s door, and when I hear movement downstairs, I take the steps two at a time and find her in the kitchen, glancing at the pool.

“Hey,” I say, and she turns to face me, but the second I see her in my clothes, I nearly bite off my tongue. Jesus. My T-shirt hangs to her knees, and my sweats are so big, I could climb in there with her. Her coveralls did a good job of hiding her body, and until this moment I never knew how tiny she was.

“You’re kind of like an ant?” I say.

“Excuse me?”

I chuckle at her puzzled expression. “That’s a compliment.”


Tags: Cathryn Fox Players on Ice Romance