Pucked Up

“If it happens again, can you record it so I can make it Alex’s ring tone? It’ll be awesome.”


Vi’s ridiculous, but I’d pay to see Waters’ face if she managed to make that happen. I hope there aren’t any more of those sounds while Sunny’s here. They’d make an embarrassing soundtrack for the evening I have planned.

Vi’s phone goes off again. “Okay. Now I gotta go. I’ll be back in a few hours. You should reconsider using that stuff.” She taps the box on the counter and leaves.

I ignore her suggestion and rifle through the contents of the bag. I have to admit, she picked up some useful stuff. If she lived on her own and didn’t have access to Waters’ fortune—he’s already set up a joint bank account where she gets what she thinks is a stupid amount of money every month, seventy-five percent of which she invests—I’d want to pay her back. But there’s also a good chance she’s added it to her bill for this month’s financial-management fees. Either way, she’s gone out of her way for me, and that says a lot.

She picked up a whole crapload of candles, all of them in some holistic, natural scent called Sensual Seduction. They smell nice. I’ve never done the candle thing before; it hasn’t been necessary. But it seems like now’s a good time to get on the romance train. Violet also purchased massage oil, bath oils, and what I at first assume are a pair of women’s panties. They’re not. She’s bought me a pair of men’s bikini briefs. I have no idea how I’ll fit my junk into them, but I’m down with giving it a shot for shits and giggles.

At the bottom is a book about the legend of the yeti and a comic strip. Upon closer inspection, I discover Vi has created her own How To Have Sex guide. I’m a yeti, and Sunny is a sunflower. It’s asinine, but it makes me laugh.

Since my housekeeper was here earlier in the week, I don’t have to worry about dusting or anything. It’s the crap lying around that’s the problem. I’m not very good at organizing. I get bored fast and stop in the middle.

I give tidying an honest effort, but after twenty minutes I’ve gotten distracted four times and ended up back in the kitchen with my head in the fridge. I throw all the stuff lying around my living room in a box and shove it my closet. Then I take the candles to my bedroom and line them up along my dresser. The massage oils I leave by the bed; the bath stuff goes by the tub.

Now that everything’s set up, all I can do is wait for Violet to come back. I send Sunny a voice text to avoid autocorrect.



I can't wait to see you tonight.



Three minutes later I get a message back:



Me 2 :) <3



On my way through the kitchen, I stop to leaf through the yeti book. It’s mostly pictures and cartoons.

The box with the woman’s legs on it sits on the counter where Vi left it. Purely out of curiosity, I pick it up and read the back. It takes a while since it’s fine print, but I get the gist. Apparently this cream is made of magic. I put it on my arms, leave it for just under an hour, and boom—all the hair disappears. It might be nice to have smooth arms. According to the directions, they’ll stay that way for days, and the hair is softer when it grows in, which could be beneficial. I’ve got another hour to kill before Vi gets back . . .

I strip down to nothing so I don’t have to worry about getting this stuff on my clothes. It takes longer to apply than I’d banked on. I have to go all the way to my second knuckle and up to my shoulder, minus my pits, so it’s not uneven and funky looking. I set the timer and get out the video game console.

Helena Hunting's books