Page 42 of Wilder Puck
The ghost of a smile flits across her face, there and gone again in an instant.
“I’m not really good at this,” she continues. “I can stick to the original plan, but I’m not sure I can handle anything more than that.”
I hope my face isn’t twisting like my heart is. She’s telling me that she doesn’t want anything more, and the message is received. Uncharted territory leads to unknown waters, so I have to respect what I’ve gotten myself into.
“Okay,” I nod. I can do that. Totally can do that. Yep. “Hold on,” I say, more than okay with that. “You still want some of this vanilla?”
She nods. “I still need practice, so yeah.”
“Okay,” I grin, returning back to the paperwork. I glance at the date and have more questions brewing. “So–”
“Do you want an Olipop?”
“Yeah, I’ll take one.”
I watch as she walks to the kitchen. “So, do you want to come over tonight?” I ask.
“Tonight?” she laughs.
I nod, knowing that I’m pressing my luck. But this is Addison. We had an awkward moment, I apologized, and she still wants to do this with me, so of course I’m going to press my luck.
I say, “You know, for practicing purposes. It might help my performance for the upcoming game since you have this new job and can’t be there physically.”
She opens up her can, the spritz fills the air. Instead of handing me the flavor she picked, she throws it. “StrawberryVanillafor you,” she smiles as I open my can. “If I can get all this work done in time, I’ll be at your house tonight.”
I cheers to that and take a long sip.
“Oh, and Wilder?” she sits in between her paperwork. “There will be no more cuddling.”
“Yup. Got it.” I throw a thumbs-up at her. “I can help for another ten minutes, but I have to go home to get ready for a hot date tonight.”
Chapter 15
I can barely concentrate on the piles of paperwork in front of me because I can’t stop thinking about the things I’m going to do to him.
I set the boundary of no cuddling, and I’m confident he won’t cross that line again. So, now I get to enjoy having him without the awkwardness. I have to clean myself up for my hot date tonight too, so by the time he leaves my apartment, I am already in the shower, shaving, plucking, and making myself look as perfect as can be.
When I get to his house, the sun is already down. I feel fidgety as I walk in, clutching my bag with the change of clothes I brought. Apparently, I'm optimistic that I'll be staying the night this time.
Ryan is in joggers and a snug henley that does unfair things to his biceps. His face lights up when he sees me.
I hold up my bag. “Mind if I put this in the guestroom?”
He waves me toward the hallway. “It’syourroom. Go right ahead.”
“Thanks.” I waltz past him, excited that I’ll taste like vanilla tonight. Which I did on purpose. The last time I went grocery shopping, I stopped in the beauty aisle and smelled all the vanilla lotions to exist on the shelf. I pick my favorite, and here I am, smelling basic as ever in hopes to make him laugh. I may have smothered my lips with vanilla scented Chapstick too. Oops.
I place the bag in the guestroom, not my room, and take a deep breath. Tonight is about sex, plain and simple. No emotions, no expectations. Just two friends having fun. We’re practicing for future relationships. I can do this.
I check myself in the mirror and face the people-pleaser waiting for me in the living room.
Then the doorbell rings. “Food’s here!”
Dinner is tacos from our favorite spot downtown. We eat at the kitchen counter, playfully arguing about the best Fast & Furious movie and whether pineapple belongs on pizza (hard no from Ryan, the unrefined heathen).
This is nice. Easy. Just like old times, before the complication of cuddling (or was it sex?) entered the equation. Being with Ryan has always been the most natural thing in my life. As necessary as breathing.
I can feel Ryan's eyes on me as I lick a drop of salsa from my finger, tracking the movement of my lips around my straw when I take a sip of water.
