Pucked (Pucked, #1)

Charlene heads for the garter belts and corsets. I refuse to purchase anything requiring snappy doohickeys or laces. I need easy. Depending on how much there is on the gift card, I might splurge and buy a new pair of jammies, something more adult than Spiderman.

I waste twenty minutes of shopping time debating the merits of extra padding with Charlene. It’s false advertising. Alex is already familiar with my boobs, so why pretend they’ve grown since he saw them last? I settle on a red bra with minimal padding and matching frilly undies.

On my way to the cash register, I pick out a cute little sleep set. Charlene doesn’t approve. I argue that not everything I buy has to be sexy.

The cashier rings up my purchases. It’s more than a hundred bucks, which seems excessive for a few scraps of lace. I pass her the gift card, hoping it will cover most of it.

“You have $879.43 remaining on your card.” She holds it out and waits for me to take it.

“Pardon?”

She repeats herself and shows me the receipt with the balance.

Charlene grabs it. “Alex gave you a thousand dollar gift card to Victoria’s Secret?”

“Um, uh . . .”

“He’s got it bad for you.”

“Correction.” I snatch the receipt and the bag from the cashier, whose smile hasn’t wavered. She looks like she’s made of plastic. “He’s got it bad for my boobs. He asked them out on the date, not me.”

“You’re so strange, Violet.”

I shrug. She’s right.





The rest of the day passes in a distracted haze. At five I bolt from the office. I need to choose an outfit to complement my new purchases.

My mom’s car is in the driveway when I arrive home. I’m hoping to avoid her. I haven’t told her I’m going out with Alex yet, and I’m not interested in her advice. She’s been asking me about him lately in reference to the gifts and the flowers. It’s driving me crazy. The Victoria’s Secret bag fits under my coat, so I smuggle it inside and hightail it to the bathroom to get ready.

I hear my mom mid-dress adjustment. I check my phone; it’s five to seven. It’s taken way longer to get ready than I expected. Liquid eyeliner is not easy to apply.

I launch myself out of the bathroom, hoping to get rid of her prior to Alex’s arrival. If I hadn’t been such a hornball when he asked me out, I would have suggested I meet him at the restaurant rather than let him pick me up at home. I’m wearing heels, compromising my already questionable coordination. As I round the corner, I skid on the hardwood and lose my footing and land on my ass in the middle of the living room. It wouldn’t be so bad if Alex wasn’t standing in my kitchen to witness the humiliating display.

I jump up and brush off the fall as he rushes to help.

“Are you okay?” He runs his hands down my arms, checking for injuries.

Other than my ass and my ego, I’m fine.

“It’s a good thing Violet’s so bootylicious! The extra padding comes in handy!”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, willing my hands to stay at my sides and not wrap around her throat. It’s a wonder I don’t have more deep-seated psychological issues. “Thanks, Mom.” I grab my purse and Alex’s arm. “We should go.”

I’m confident I can make it across this particular surface without falling again. Holding onto Alex’s well-defined forearm definitely helps.

“Don’t you want to see what Alex brought you? He’s such a doll!” My mom makes flailing hand gestures between Alex and the flowers.

The bouquet is even more extravagant than the ones he sent previously. I’m torn. I don’t want him to think I don’t like or appreciate them. I also need to get the hell away from my mother. If given the opportunity for further mortification, she’ll pull out my Mathletes trophies from high school. I pick up the bouquet and give it a quick sniff.

“These are beautiful. Thank you.” Alex beams like a spotlight at the compliment.

“Can you put these in some water, please?” I ask my mom.

“Don’t you want to invite Alex in for a drink? Sidney’s making me a Manhattan. It’s cocktail hour!”

His warm reply negates my snide response. “Thank you for the invitation, but we have dinner reservations. Maybe another time.”

“Oh! Of course! You kids have fun. I’m sure Sidney will be more than happy to have me all to himself tonight!”

“Okay, well, we don’t want to be late!” I tug on Alex’s sleeve, praying my mother doesn’t say anything else to further my humiliation. This is exactly why I need to move into an apartment far away from her.

Alex helps me into my coat and my mother waves us off.

“Sorry about her,” I say as we walk down the path to the driveway. It’s icy, so I hold his arm. “Parent introductions aren’t supposed to happen until the fifty-seventh date or something.”

“No worries. I think she likes me.”

“She’s embarrassing.”

“Aren’t all parents?”