Page 108 of Faking It with the Forward

Room 110. With schedules as busy as ours it’s good to have a place to sneak off to in the middle of the day.

“Are you giving or receiving?” I ask, as if I’m considering the idea. “And what exactly are we learning here?”

“Both.” He leans over and adds, “I’m giving and you’re receiving. Practice makes perfect, even when it comes to eating your pussy.”

His grin tells me he’s being like this on purpose, just to watch me squirm.

“Your mouth is so filthy.”

“You love it.”

Fuck yeah, I do.

I love him, too.

* * *

“That. Was. Epic.”

My ears are ringing, and my skin is sticky with sweat from dancing all night. Reese looks down at me and grins, plucking a piece of confetti out of my hair.

“I admit it, they know how to put on a show.”

“An amazing show,” I gush, spinning around. “Like, the best one so far.”

He takes my hand and leads me off the floor with the other fans now that the lights are back on, and the band has left the stage. Yes, we had floor tickets, and Reese humored me as I pushed us as close to the stage as possible. My chest still feels like it’s vibrating from the bass and the roar of the crowd. “Just think, one day when you’re playing for the NHL you’ll have thousands of fans screaming for you like this.”

“I only need one fan,” he winks, “everything else is noise.” We keep pushing forward until we’re near the tunnel. His arm is wrapped around my body, protectively, and he looks down and asks, “What makes this one better than all the other concerts you’ve been to?”

I grab the front of his shirt, a black New Kings T-shirt I bought him at the merch shop. It’s a size too small and fits his body like a sexy, fanboy, glove. Stopping him in the middle of the moving crowd, I say, “You being here with me.”

“Yeah?” his head tilts, and he grins down at me. My heart flutters against my ribcage. Being with Reese never gets old. He has this way of always making me feel special and it’s important to me that I let him know that he’s special to me too.

“Yep.” I push up on my toes and kiss him. Ever since we went public, I’ve become a fan of PDA. Weird.

“Keep moving!” Security shouts, flashing a light in our direction. Reese laughs and holds onto me, making sure we’re together as we navigate the crowd.

When we’re outside the venue, I say, “You never told me how you ended up getting the tickets.”

“I told you, Logan helped me.”

“But how? They were completely sold out.”

His forehead creases. “Logan showed me a resale forum for serious fans. It’s not just first come, first served. You kind of have to plead your case.”

I know about this site. I’m actually a member. It’s a place for serious fans to keep the scalpers out, making sure tickets or limited merch gets to the right person.

“Let me see,” I say.

“Nope.” He leads me to the parking lot.

“Come on,” I beg.

“Not a chance, babe.” He drags my body against his side. “Let’s just say I pled my case for being a dumbass and was convincing enough that someone took pity on me.”

We make the long drive back to Wittmore and without asking, he heads back to the Manor. The guys are still up and playing video games.

“How was it?” Reid asks, barely looking away from the screen.

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