Page 47 of Shots on Net

“This isn’t a Christmas present,” he says, still smirking as he sits back down next to me and holds out the bag.

I take it from him with no small amount of trepidation. It’s a book, that much is clear. The smirk has grown into a small smile; he gestures for me to open the bag. Sticking my hand in, I pull out a heavy, cardboard book. The cover has a childish drawing of two hockey players under the title: So you think you want to play hockey? I feel a laugh bubbling up in my stomach and bite my lip.

“Is this a children’s book?” I ask, glancing at him. “About hockey?”

Carter lets out a whoop of laughter, bending forward from the force of it. I can’t help but laugh with him and for a long time the room is filled with nothing else. Eventually, wiping his eyes, he takes a couple fortifying breaths and looks at me. His eyes are shining with uncontained joy and there is an actual fucking smile on his face. A wide, beautiful smile. I’ve never seen so many of his teeth before.

As though my body is being controlled by a puppeteer, I lean forward and put a hand on his shoulder. I barely have to pull him toward me as I lean in and kiss his cheek. Immediately, he freezes, and because I’m so close to him, I can hear his sharp inhalation. Doubts flood me, and I pull away from him. Before I can get too far, Carter stops me. The smile is gone, but there is an unmistakable heat in his eyes now.

“Oh, uhm, sorry,” I say. I’m clutching the book in my lap so hard my knuckles hurt.

“Sorry?” He gives his head a single, firm shake. “Don’t be sorry. I wasn’t expecting that…I figured you…”

He trails off, eyes squinting into the middle distance and mouth creeping back down into a frown. He’s not looking at me, but I’m looking at him. I’m looking at him and realizing for the first time that I want him. I want him. And that terrifies me.

“Zeke?” He asks, and I realize I’ve been staring at him, mutely. He has no idea I’ve just had an epiphany.

“Sorry, but you know what I just realized?”

“What?”

“That I like you. I really, really like you,” I tell him, unable to keep the excitement from my tone. Carter looks confused. He glances down at the book on my lap. I look down as well and laugh again, when I see the cover.

“Uhm…have you not liked me up until now?” He’s teasing, but there is a guarded look in his eyes.

“Jesus, no, I mean yes, of course I’ve liked you. What I meant is that I just realized that I like you. Like, I want to kiss you. And we should have sex, sometime.”

His eyes widen. “Not that I’m not totally on board with what you just said, but…that’s a kid’s book about learning the rules of hockey. It was meant to be a joke, not an aphrodisiac.”

“Oh, I know. Just a happy accident.” I smile at him and he carefully smiles back. Nerves flutter in my stomach when his eyes dip to my mouth. It is so hot in this room. “But, uhm, if we can take things slow and work up to having sex that would be preferable.”

“Damn,” he says, frowning and throwing his head back dramatically. “And here I was hoping that meant you were ready for ravishing.”

I let out a startled laugh and hit him with the hard edge of the hockey book. “You heathen.”

“There go all my hopes for some spontaneous anal on the living room rug,” he adds, and laughs as I shove him over. He catches himself and straightens, still chuckling. He looks happier than I ever thought it possible for him to look. “I’m kidding. We can go as slow or as fast as you want to go. You’re calling the shots, Zeke, don’t worry about me.”

Buying myself some time, I reach for a slice of pizza. It’s cooled considerably since we’ve been here. Chewing slowly, I watch as Carter does the same. We eat quietly for a couple of minutes before I break the silence.

“Also, since we’re on the subject, I might as well let you know that I’m bad at it.”

“Bad at what?” Carter uses his thumb to catch some sauce that’s on his lip. He pops it in his mouth and sucks, which is more alluring than it has any right to be. I don’t think he was even trying to be sexy; it just comes naturally.

“Sex. Kissing. All of it,” I wave my pizza through the air to encompass all things intimate. He scowls at me.

“No, you aren’t.”

“I’ve only kissed two people in my life. And those are the same two people I’ve slept with. The only people I’ve slept with, Carter. So, believe me when I say, I will not be good at any of it.”

“Christ. Who cares?” He takes a bite of pizza and shrugs. “It’s not a skills competition. I’m not going to be critiquing your technique, Zeke, I’m just going to be happy you’re, you know, kissing me.”

I relax a little bit. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

Still, though, the thought remains in the back of my mind. What if, after all this, we kiss and he doesn’t like it? Or he doesn’t like how I look with my clothes off? This, I know, is a very distinct possibility. I am the farthest thing from Carter’s body type as it is possible to be. He is tall and fit, where I’m so small and skinny that people often mistake me for a pre-pubescent teenager. Not exactly sexy.

“Dude, stop worrying,” Carter says, catching my chin between his thumb and forefinger. Interesting things start happening with the nerve endings on my face. “Do I need to ravish you to distract you?”

I open my mouth to answer but he swipes his thumb across the line of my jaw and I forget how to form coherent sentences. Smirking, he does it again, but lets the pad of his finger drift across my bottom lip. My heart is positively racing; I’m not sure I’d actually mind if he did want to ravish me on the rug. He drops his hand and I take a deep breath. Carter stands, closing the pizza box and reaching a hand down to help me to my feet. I grasp it and he uses it to pull me up.

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