Page 25 of More Than Chemical
From Hot to Not
Itexted Priya to tell her I wasn’t going to meet up with them after the game. I could tell she was upset, but there wasn’t much she could do when she had no idea where I was or who I was with.
Dallas and I walked to Sporty’s, and as we were approaching the door, he pulled me to a stop facing him. It was cold enough that I could see the intermingling of our breath.
“I need to make something clear before we go in there,” he said.
Great. What now?
He reached out and touched my face.Those hands.I remembered how they’d felt when he held me at the party. He moved closer and cupped the back of my neck.
His lips touched mine. Warm, soft, wet. It was like stepping into a time machine. I was brought back instantly to the party. I’d been yearning for this feeling for a week now, and I didn’t want it to stop.
The kiss started slow but intensified fast. I couldn’t get enough of his heat, his mouth.
He broke it off far quicker than I wanted. I wasn’t sure how he did it, but he made me feel like I was the most wanted girl in the entire world just by kissing me.
I caught my breath. “What was that for?”
“We’re going into a bar. I need you to know that I don’t want to kiss you only when I’m drinking.”
My thudding heart swelled into my throat. I couldn’t talk. Even if I could, it wouldn’t matter. I was speechless.
He opened the door for me, and we ascended a flight of stairs. At the top, sitting on a stool, was the bouncer.
“Hey, man.” He gave Dallas a high five. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” he said. “I brought a friend with me, is that cool?”
He waved us through. “No problem.”
And without showing our IDs, we were in.
Dallas made a beeline for the bar, and I followed him.
“What do you want?” he asked.
Behind the counter was an array of taps. The only kind of beer I’d ever had was the inexpensive stuff.
“Um.” I started reading the labels, but I had no idea. I frowned.
“Why don’t you try a Blue Moon?” He gestured to the light-blue label. “I think you’ll like it.”
I nodded. I actually didn’t think it mattered. I wasn’t that picky.
The next thing I knew, I had a glass filled with an orange slice floating in cloudy beer in my hand. And it tasted good—really good. Like nothing I’d ever had. Piss-warm party beer out of a plastic glass was awful. This was like an icy heaven.
Dallas introduced me to a group of his high school classmates. I found out most of the guys were people he’d played hockey with as a teenager. They seemed ordinary—well, as ordinary as your average hockey player could be.
“I didn’t know that you played,” I said to Dallas with a changed pitch in my tone.
“Yeah.” He shrugged. But he offered nothing more. Which was fine by me. Hockey and I didn’t go well together.
Feeling a bit awkward while Dallas was on the other side of the room, I struck up a conversation with a quieter guy. He sat a little away from rest. A former goalie named Charlie. He was nice but, like most goalies, quiet and a bit quirky. He kept rearranging the condiment basket in the center of the table.
I tried to find things to chat about, but the only thing Charlie and I had in common was our shared knowledge of hockey. A dangerous subject for me, and a couple times I almost messed up and said something damning about my father. Somehow I got through the conversation without giving myself away.
There were girls too. Some were part of the crowd, and some were girlfriends.
