Where It Begins – A Pucked Novella Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Novella, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
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Sidney sets his hand palm up on the center console and I lace my fingers with his. “I’m excited to see your place.”

“I’m excited to get you into my bedroom.”

He chuckles. “I’m excited for that, too. It’s almost hard to believe it’s finally happening.”

“I know, right?” An unpleasant gurgle comes from my stomach, so I press my hand against it and feel the unsettling churn under my palm.

“Everything okay?” Sidney asks.

“Oh yeah, fine. Everything’s fine.” It’s probably just nerves and excitement.

But the closer we get to my house, the more noise my stomach makes and then the cramping begins. I can’t get my period. Not now. Not tonight.

“You’re sure you’re okay? You know if you’re not ready for me to come over that’s okay, Skye. We can take it as slowly as you want.”

“I’m really fine. Just nerves and anticipation I think.”

Suddenly, I break out in a cold sweat, and the cramps intensify. Thankfully, we’re almost at my place. I cross and uncross my legs. Then recross them again.

I don’t know what’s happening. I took lactose pills before dinner and the chocolate lava cake only had that dollop of whipped cream. I shouldn’t have a reaction. When I’m excited or anxious, my reaction is to word vomit and my palms sweat. But this is nothing like that.

As soon as we pull into the driveway, I slam my thumb down on the release and I’m out of the truck before Sidney even has it in park. Another cramp hits as I sprint for the front door, but I’m wearing heels and not tripping over my own feet is a challenge on a good day, let alone when I’m panicking. I’m pretty sure if I don’t make it to the bathroom in the next thirty seconds, bad things I won’t be able to recover from will happen, and I’ll never see Sidney again.

I drop my keys before I can get them into the lock.

Sidney stoops to pick them up before I can. “Take it easy, we have all night, Skye.”

I brace a hand on the door. “I really need to get inside.” I’m full body sweating now and my stomach cramps again, this time making me double over in pain. This is so bad. So, so bad.

Sidney frowns. “You look like you’re not feeling the best.”

“It’s nerves.” My stomach sounds like there’s a whole gaggle of angry beasts living inside it.

Sidney slides the key into the lock and it seems to take eleven million years to open the door. I rush down the hall. “Make yourself at home! I’ll be down in a couple of minutes.” I kick off my heels and take the stairs two at a time, invariably I trip and slide halfway back down, my chin bumping the carpet on the way. I clamber to my feet and make it to the bathroom just in time, slamming the door and turning on the fan, grateful it’s old and noisy.

I spend the next several minutes in a death spiral. I’m shaking and sweating and not even a little okay. And then the wave of brutal nausea hits me. It doesn’t make sense. Violet gave me two lactose pills and I didn’t gorge on cheese or cream. Unless the soup had cream in it. Which is entirely possible. I check the medicine cabinet and realize Violet may have accidentally given me the antacids instead of the lactose pills.

After a while Sidney calls my name.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” I yell. “And please, if you like me at all, do not come up here!”

I hope he heeds my warning and stays where he is. The noise my stomach is making is obscene.

Finally, the worst of it seems to be over. But I’m still shaking and my stomach still sounds like there’s a beast living inside it. I’m sweaty and disheveled and I look like a nightmare.

I can’t leave him alone in my house forever, and I have no idea how long I’ve been locked in the bathroom. I spray deodorizer, leave the fan on and close the door, then trudge downstairs to face my date.

He’s sitting on the couch in the living room with his phone in his hand. As soon as he sees me, he tosses his device on the cushion beside him and stands. “Are you okay? Do you have food poisoning?” He crosses the room in three long strides and cups my face between his palms. “Babe, I mean this in the nicest possible way, you are always beautiful, but you really don’t look so good.”

“I think there was dairy in my soup.” My stomach yowls angrily.

Sidney’s eyebrow shoots up and his gaze darts down.

“I can’t really handle dairy. And I thought I took my lactose pills before our date because the last thing I wanted was to end up with gastro distress, but they were right beside the antacids in my cupboard and based on what’s happening to my intestines, I believe I took the wrong pills and the next twelve hours will be loud and angry. I basically feel like I have the flu and food poisoning, but I don’t have the flu or food poisoning. And sex would be a terrible idea unless you have some strange kinks, and then sex would still be a bad idea, but for very different reasons.”


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