Page 37 of The Import Slot
“Have a good night,” I say to Nathan, not owing him a goodbye, but it feels rude not to, and my parents brought me up better than that. Becca follows as I turn to leave, and I catch sight of Ryan attempting to break away from the crowd to tail behind.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Becca says.
“Don’t worry. No harm done,” I say as I head toward the door.
Someone grabs my arm and calls my name, and I find Danny looking at me, a question in his eyes. I shake my head at him, letting him know I don’t want to talk. My mind is still whirling with Nathan’s pointed question. The scales would say I’m a bit overweight, and I’m trying, but I don’t know what it has to do with him anymore, or ever. It’s taken me a while to feel comfortable in my skin, and I am, besides the odd bouts of self-consciousness, especially where my thighs are concerned.
It’s those little comments Nathan would make time and time again, which would make me think I wasn’t worthy of love or anything. I tell myself now that I’m glad to have escaped when I did, before things got worse. Before I believed him deep down. Seeing Nathan here tonight has altered my outlook, inspiring me to do as I please without worrying about other people’s opinions.
I can feel my arm being tugged just as I reach the door. I expect it to be Becca but I spot her standing with Danny near the bar. It’s Ryan who’s now behind me. I push the door open and stand on the pavement, taking deep breaths. He takes off his jacket and slips it around my shoulders. Fuck, it smells good.
“Come here,” he says, pulling me into him, his arms wrapping around me. My boobs create a bit of a barrier, and I bet he can feel my nipples pressing into him through the thin layers we are wearing. It’s practically winter and I’m freezing.
“Are you okay?” he asks, stroking my back.
I look up at him, nodding slowly because I am very much okay right now.
“Ry, have you slept with anyone called Rochelle?” My voice sounds almost childish, and I don’t know why I’m asking, because it’s none of my business.
“No. I haven’t. Bettsy’s getting into it with her,” he says.
“Good.” I don’t know why I say good, but his lips twitch as if he’s trying not to smile.
Our eyes lock, my heart is hammering, and the way he’s looking at me is just—I don’t know what comes over me, but I stretch myself taller and wrap my arms around his neck, causing his jacket to fall to the ground.
Neither of us makes any attempt to retrieve it as he creeps closer to me, our faces now centimetres apart. I pull him in closer, and my lips brush ever so slightly against his, but I want more. I part my lips, running my tongue across his bottom lip and he crashes down on me; a moan escapes someone, Me? Him? Both of us, maybe? I don’t know, my head is spinning and I don’t think I can even recall my name right now. Our tongues dance almost painfully slow, but I can’t help it. I want this to last forever. His lips are soft, softer than I thought they would be, and he tastes like mint—it’s delicious.
His hands trail down my back and cup my bum, fuck, how does that turn me on even more? I can feel him pressing into me, his hardness evident.
There’s chattering and noise as the door to the bar swings open, and as if we’ve been caught in headlights, I break away flustered. Shit. What have I done? Terrified that I’ve crossed a line, I can’t bring myself to face my mistake head-on. Not right now, anyway.
“I need to get my train,” I say, sticking my hand out and stopping a taxi that passes.
“Jen?” he says, but I leave him standing there, and when I glance back, he’s still standing there as if he’s forgotten how to move. It’s not until the taxi drives out of view that a message comes through.
Ryan:Let me know when you’re home safe.
Chapter 11
Ryan
Thecoachpullsontothe highway, and everyone settles down for the long drive home, the chattering dying away. We’ve played away, losing 5-4 in OT, and we’re all feeling deflated.
I’m struggling though; I’m finding my shifts frustrating. My linemates and I are still trying to find a good rhythm, but I’m finding things slow. Scottsy is probably one of the team’s better wingers, but he’s lacking in his puck control and speed compared to what I’m used to. There have been a few times when he’s been unable to capitalise on opportunities I pass him because of his reaction time. The whole thing needs addressing and I need to speak to Coach soon, but tonight isn’t the time.
The only thing that made today remotely bearable was seeing Jen briefly before we were called to board the coach. She and Becca came around the back to see us after the game and I bagged a hug.
I’m still reeling over that kiss we shared. I’ve experienced nothing like it before. Sure, I’ve had plenty of first kisses with women, but never like that. The kiss left me speechless and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The way she felt in my arms and how she tasted is something I’ve never experienced before. Then she was gone, like Cinderella. And neither of us has said anything about it. It’s as if it didn’t happen, but it happened, and I want it to happen again.
I’ve got my earbuds in and I’m zoning out when Johnny, who’s sitting beside me, gives me a nudge. I pop my right earbud out and nod.
“How’s it going? Not had much chance to chat.” Johnny spent the outbound journey running through plays with various guys, and it’s been a busy week.
“Yeah, all good,” I lie. I don’t want to put my concerns about the game on him yet.
“I spoke to Vicky,” he says, his voice hushed. We’re sitting near the back of the coach, and it’s usually quiet time, where the guys in relationships or whatever text or have whispered video calls.
“About Liam?”
