Page 81 of Revenge Puck

Pleasant?

Nope. Not the right word for it…

“Volunteer?” He snorts. “Hard pass.”

Her brows go up. “Really? You seem like the first person who would offer up their time. You were giving me fun vibes during that tour of the event space…”

Storm shrugs. “I would rather read sci-fi or horror.”

I chuckle. “What about picture books—are those your speed? What’d they do up in Canada? Shove a hockey stick in your hand and call it a day,eh?”

He laughs. “Something like that.”

“Then stop grilling Juliette. She’s doing her job.” I clap him on the shoulder and squeeze until he winces. “You’re exhausting.”

“I’m the perfect wing man.” He shakes me off.

“You’re bored,” I reply.

Juliette is amused now, biting her bottom lip to hold in her laugh. “How did you find out we were going to be here?”

“Yeah, you weirdo. Are you following me?”Or her?

“Naw. Stopped by the office and the social media girl was in the hallway and said something about the foundation sponsoring it. Ithoughtwe were supposed to be here. Show up, take some pics, be a hero,” Storm insists, flexing his bicep. “No one told me it was kids.”

“You came to a library and weren’t expecting books?” I ask, at the same time as a group of kids run past us screaming about glitter and glue, and Storm flinches as if one of them has sacked him in the nuts.

“There’s no way you could’ve handled five minutes in that chair,” I boast.

“I could handle it,” he argues.

“You one hundred percent could not.”

Juliette grins at him. “We’ll sign you up next time.”

“No fuckin way, dude—I’d rather sign autographs.”

She grins wider. “We can arrange that, too.”

We start toward the door, then he turns to me. “For the record, you did look grumpy in that chair.”

“I was not grumpy.”

“You were a little grumpy,” Juliette chimes in. “Especially when that little cutie asked what was wrong with your ears.”

Storm beams as if he’s won something. “See?”

“Jesus Christ, there is nothing wrong with my ears!”

He snorts. “Says you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Shhh,” Juliette hisses under her breath, glancing around. “People can hear you.”

Storm laughs and barrels ahead, pushing through the library doors. The afternoon sunlight hits all three of us at once, the real world rushing back in—cars in the lot, parents wrangling their toddlers back into booster seats, the hum of a normal afternoon.

“Well, gentlemen. It was wonderful seeing you both.” Juliette smiles at us like we’re mildly embarrassing but manageable idiots. “Drive safe. Have fun at practice.”