Irresponsible Puckboy (Puckboys, #2)

by Eden Finley

We drive down a long dirt driveway surrounded by thick tree coverage, and I’m hanging out the window, breathing in the smell of nature, which isn’t something we have a whole lot of in Las Vegas. After another deep lungful, I drop back into my seat. “Did you bring a leash for your dog, Tripp?” Ezra snarks from the passenger’s seat. I ignore it. It’s not my fault it feels good to have the air on my face. Tripp’s in the middle seat between me and Oskar, and I pat his thigh in my excitement. “This is going to be great.” The others don’t match my enthusiasm. In fact, ever since I shoved my bag in the trunk, there’s been a vibe hanging over the group that I can’t put my finger on. Like now. Tripp and Oskar exchange a weird look, and when I glance up front, Anton is watching me in the rearview mirror. Which wouldn’t be an issue if he wasn’t meant to be concentrating on, you know, the road. “Ah. Tough crowd,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. Ezra laughs, at least. “We can’t all be an overexcitable puppy like you. We’re pacing our excitement to last the full two weeks.” “Maybe you need better stamina, big guy.” Tripp snorts, and we trade amused looks. It goes a long way to settle the feelings of not being wanted here. Clearly, I’m being paranoid.