Page 53 of Untouchable Player

“I’d kick my dad’s ass.”

Nate laughs. “Yeah that’s not really an option for me.”

“It’s not for me either, but I’d want to.”

We stop at the bus shelter, the sun just starting to set.

“I hate cheating,” I say.

Nate looks at me.

“How many girlfriends have you had?”

“A few, not many and not for long.”

“Why not?” he looks at his shoes, “you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t know why. I’ve tried, but I guess girls just see the hockey player. And then they realise I’m not gonna be a pro, or they like my teammates better. I don’t have a lot else to offer.”

“That’s not true.”

I don’t know what to say.

“Jesse… about what I said, at the house, about not wanting to be a 21-year old virgin.”

My throat gets dry and I can’t look at him.

“Would you… be interested, in sleeping with me?”

There’s a huge part of me, mostly from the waist down, that would happily take him into the woods behind the library and fuck his brains out if that’s what he wanted. But the one lonely brain cell acting as a free agent in my head tells me that he doesn’t really want that.

I take too long to answer and he says, “never mind, it was just an idea…”

“Yes.”

I feel Nate’s eyes on the side of my face and I know I’ve turned red, but I don’t care.

“I’ll… make out with you and we can fool around, and if you change your mind, we’ll just be friends.”

“Make out and fool around?”

“I meant what I said about not wanting to be any part of a regret.”

“So you do want to sleep with me or you don’t?”

“Yes. I do.”

When I look at him, he’s smiling. Blushing like crazy, but smiling.

No one’s home when we get back to Nate’s house. I follow him upstairs and I don’t have time to wonder if I’m doing the right thing or not when he leads me up to his room and pulls meover to the bed. Other parts of my body aren’t exactly sharing the blood flow enough for my brain to have a chance to think properly.

What I know beyond a doubt is that it feels good to kiss Nate. I love the way he fits inside my arms and the way his hair tickles my nose when I nuzzle his neck.

When he pulls away, he looks up at me with those gorgeous brown eyes the way he looked at me that day at the party, and in the den in his pyjamas. That expression tells me he wants this without him having to say anything, and he’s serious.

When he pulls me down onto the bed, I let him, climbing between his legs and pressing myself against him while holding most of my weight up on my arms. I can’t feel him through his jeans the way I could through the thin fabric of his pyjamas, but I can still feel him getting hard and rutting his hips up against mine.

“Wait,” his hands are struggling with my fly and I stop him. “Let me.”

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