Page 32 of Just Friends
She grabbed a booth and I bought a round of drinks from the bar. In the dim candlelight of our private booth, our talks probed deeper. Over a couple more rounds, we talked about life and love.
She wanted to know how many hearts I’d broken. I’d had a few girlfriends, but never anything too serious, because hockey took up all my time.
“Wait, are you saying you’ve never been in love?” she asked.
“I guess not,” I muttered.
“Oh.” She pursed her lips. “I see.”
Something in her eyes had changed, and I didn’t want her to think I was some meat-head who was incapable of love.
“I mean, I lovehockey,” I said. And then I cringed, regretting it immediately. “Ugh. That came off lame.”
“Yeah, that was pretty bad, Jack. Let’s forget you ever said that.” She giggled. “Do youwantto find love? Besides hockey, of course.”
I groaned at the jab. “Someday, sure. But I don’t have time for it now—I’m focused on my career goals.” That meant making a name for myself in the NHL and earning my first big contract. “What about you, Piper? Ever been in love?”
“Just once,” she said.
She told me that she was thirteen when she started dating her first boyfriend. He was her first everything, and she was his, too. She was certain they’d marry and spend the rest of their lives together … until, after four years of dating, he suddenly started acting strange one day. She had to twist his arm to get it out of him, but he finally admitted that while he still loved her, but he couldn’t settle down forever until he’d been with other girls.
She reluctantly agreed to break up. And he made her promise that, if they were both single after he’d had his fun, they’d get back together one day.
“Soooo,” she said, “that’s the story of how I decided to get the hell out of Montana and moved to New York the day I turned eighteen!” Despite the reassuring smile she gave me, I could sense a pain still lingering in her eyes. With a nervous laugh, she broke off eye contact. “Whew. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things so heavy.” She checked her watch. “Oh gosh, it’s getting late …”
I couldn’t let her go now.
“Late? Nah, it’s still early,” I said. “Tell you what. Let’s change the scenery and find another bar.”
She frowned. “I can’t stay out late tonight, Jack. I’ve got to open the shop tomorrow morning.”
“I can’t stay out late, either. If I break midnight curfew, Coach will bench me. But we’ve still got time to go somewhere else and have one more drink. Deal?”
She mulled it over.
“C’mon,” I urged her.
“Okay,onelast drink,” she said at last, “but then I really do have to go.”
“Got it.”
We went up the block and found a quiet, upscale bar. I bought our drinks and took her to a private, tucked away corner in the bar.
I knew what Iwantedto do—the same thing Ialwaysdid with girls I wanted to bang—but for the first time, I had a bad feeling about it. Even stranger, my heart wentthump-thump-thumpand something deep inside begged menotto do what I wanted to do. Was I nervous? What the fuck?
But I had to do it. Ihadto, and she’d like it, because that’s how these things always went. Besides, how was I supposed to face the guys tomorrow if I didn’tat leasttryto make a move on Piper?
We sipped our drinks, making small talk, and I waited until I thought the time was right.
I moved closer and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.
“Um, Jack,” she said with a mix of amusement and skepticism. “What are you doing?”
“This,” I said, confidently leaning in for a kiss.
But she turned away in the nick of time, and my lips bumped her cheek.
“Come on,” I whispered. “ You’re the hottest girl I’ve seen in this city.” Undeterred, I gently nipped at the soft skin of her neck. “I want you so bad.”
