Page 49 of Goalie Lessons

“You want me to tell you, or…?”

His eyes are firmly on my lips, so I’m not sure whether he more hears or sees it, but when I say, “Show me,” he’s already moving, leaning forward, sliding one hand into my hair, planting the other on my thigh, and kissing me.

Grayson

I’vealwaysthoughtofmyself as being decent at kissing, so it’s a boost to my confidence to have Astrid tell me as much. I enjoy kissing—I wasn’t aware that there could be people who didn’t, though I suppose it makes sense for people to have different preferences.

I enjoy kissing, but Ireallyenjoy kissing Astrid. I like the way her body feels under my hands, firm but soft. Shifting to me, meeting me halfway. Her mouth opening against mine, and she tastes cool, minty—I realize she was probably chewing gum before this and wish that I had been too.

The hand I have on her thigh stretches, my fingers reaching out, and I think about sliding them up to the button of her jeans—

But no. That’s exactly what she was talking about—moving too fast. I’m supposed to be waiting until she’s begging for it, asking me to move to the next step.

The thought of that—of Astrid begging me for anything—makes my entire body flush with want. I pull back from her, cutting off the kiss and breathing hard as I stare at her.

She’s been blushing from the moment I opened the door, but now her lips are red too. I stare at them, wait for the static in my head to calm down, let me think.

“Are you—” I start, but my voice is too rough, so I have to clear it and try again. “Is that okay? Are you okay?”

Astrid blinks, and I realize she’s moved sideways, so she’s halfway on my lap. Her hands are twisted in the fabric of my shirt, and it takes her a second before she relaxes that grip, leaning back from me and sucking in a breath.

“Oh—yeah. It’s all good,” she says.

“Should we…?”

“If you—if you want to?”

I can’t help it—I laugh. This entire situation is so weird, it’s turned us into a couple of teenagers.

Confidence is sexy.

Reaching over, I cup my hands under her ass and pull her so she’s fully seated in my lap, and the breath she lets out tells me two things—first, that she likes it, and second, that she can feel how hard I am against her.

“Is that okay?” I wonder how many times I’m going to ask that question. “If you feel…?”

“It’s more than okay,” she breathes, placing her hand on my chest. “It’s, uh…it’s a good form of teasing. Shows her that you want her.”

Astrid’s use ofherbreaks me out of it a bit—I don’t want to think about another woman right now. I want to think about Astrid, learn to do exactly what she likes.

“Doyoulike it?”

Her voice is quiet. “Yeah.”

“Should we, like, practice other ways to kiss?”

She raises her eyebrows, laughing. “What, like, French kissing?”

“No.” The word comes out fast, a hybrid laugh-breath. “Like, in this position, maybe over on the desk, laying down, standing…you know?”

“Standing?” She raises an eyebrow at me, cocking her head. “Not sure that’s physically possible.”

I raise my eyebrows right back at her. “Of course it is. I’ll just stand up and hold onto you, then kiss.”

She laughs, leaning back and shaking her head, her short black hair swinging as she does. “Grayson, I am a fully grown woman.”

“Astrid,” I counter, “you figure skate, right? I assume guys lifted you for that, so what makes you think this is any different?”

“Those are, like,lifts. Momentum from the skating, I’m already jumping, and I was a lot smaller back then, when I was competing—”

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