Page 66 of The Alternate Captain
Okay, I’m definitely embarrassed now. And my heart sinks because he’s changed the subject so quickly. The sternness of his voice, indicating that ‘Johnny the Captain’ is back.
But I’m not settling this time. Despite the anxiety building in my chest, there’s no way I’m sitting here, eating a meal withthisversion of him.
“Please don’t do this,” I say, looking into his eyes. “Please don’t switch the conversation or shy away or whatever, whenever things get difficult.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to deal with compliments.”
“Well, nor do I, but you’ll have to deal with it. Because you’re special, Johnny. And I think you should remember that.”
I’ve never actually beenon a date. Not like this, anyway.
I don’t even realise the time passing, and my face aches from smiling so much. Yes, it got a bit awkward earlier, and my low self-confidence came out to bite me on the ass, but we’ve moved past it. And now things are easy.
I’m relaxed.
“How do you not know this song?” Kelly says, leaning into me slightly.
“I can hardly make out the tune. If you were quiet for a second, I may be able to catch it.”
She looks at me, eyes wide, and presses a finger to her lips, but mouths the lyrics, anyway. I steal another glance at her, because the dress she’s wearing shows off her hips and her curves in a way I haven’t seen before. I’m intrigued.
I’m watching the way she sways to the music, and I can’t help myself; I’m thinking about how her body would feel under mine, how she’d sound when she comes.
Impure thoughts.
A load of impure thoughts about Bettsy’s nineteen-year-old sister has my dick coming to life.
“Nope. Don’t have a clue.”
“It’s one of my favourite songs,” she says.
“You’ve said that about every single song that’s been played,” I say. “How many favourite songs do you have?”
“Okay, confession time.” She tucks her hair behind her ear and puts a serious expression on. “If I like a song, it’s officially classed as a favourite.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but I swear you told me your favourite songwas—”
“Shh!” She stops me mid-sentence. “Don’t say it out loud. It’s one of those guilty pleasure songs that I only listen to when I’m in the comfort of my own car, or my own shower. You weren’t supposed to remember I told you that.”
But I did. I remember everything she’s told me, including the details of her sex toy drawer.
And the dirty thoughts keep coming.
“You never did tell me your favourite song, Johnny. Or does it depend on which version of Johnny you’re being at the time?” There’s a playful grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye that tells me she won’t let up.
“You’re funny, Kelly. I like music, but I don’t have a favourite song,” I say.
“That’s wild.”
“Nah, it’s fine. However, when it comes to genres, it has to be...”
“—classic rock.” She finishes my sentence for me and rolls her eyes. “But isn’t that a hockey thing? Standard locker room tunes.”
“How do you know about locker room music?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Honestly. Don’t make me say his name.”
“Right.”
