Page 24 of Puck You Very Much
His bare chest, that is.
Oh, God…
“Hold on a second,” I said. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Fuck off.”
He spat the words out, like he’d rehearsed them a hundred times but didn’t know if he could actually say them. I felt like he’d slapped me in the face, one way or another. I tried not to feel enraged, even though I had no idea where he got off speaking to me that way. But because I wanted to build a positive relationship with Jakob, I decided to forgive that.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “my mind must be playing tricks on me. Did you just say what I think you said?”
“Of course I did.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Because it’s exactly what I want you to do. Now, go piss up a rope!”
When he started away from me again, I slipped in front of him, and put both hands on his shoulders.
His insanely powerful (and bare) shoulders, I mean.
And then I stared down at those heavy pecs. Then I looked up at his eyes and honestly felt like he’d snatched a breath from me. Since I’ve told you about all the other crazy stuff, I shouldn’t exclude that.
“Zane?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“Did you just put your hands on my bare shoulders?”
“Uh, yes, it certainly looks like I did.”
I withdrew my hands at an excruciatingly slow pace. Look, if I’d yanked them away, I would have given Jakob the wrong idea.
And what idea is that?my inner voice asked.
I drew a deep breath, wanting to ignore that, alongside anything that threatened to trip me up.
“Are you obsessed?” Jakob asked.
“I don’t get you. Obsessed with what?”
“Obsessed with me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Come on, even a confirmed nincompoop like yourself can understand that. On the other hand, you might not know how to spell it.”
I rolled my eyes. Yeah, I wondered why on earth I bothered with a guy who had nothing better to do than insult me. Obsessed? That sounded so stupid, and just like something a Larkin Lion would say.
“I’m not obsessed,” I said. “I can’t help it if we’re both here at the same time.”
“Oh, I don’t know how much of a coincidence that is—or isn’t. Why bother arguing over it? Anyway, just because you saw me here didn’t mean you had to talk to me, and it definitely didn’t mean you had to?—”
Had to what? He could drive me nuts with unfinished sentences like that. I would ask him flat out how he meant to finish but knew he would somehow give me the runaround. Bullshit was the Larkin Lion way, you know.
I peered down at his chest again and couldn’t help but admire the crease between his pecs. Then my eyes traversed lower, and I noticed a treasure trail I’d totally missed before. Dropping lower still, my eyes landed on a bulge in his towel.
I’m a hockey player. I’ve been in a million locker rooms and had taken in that sight more times than I cared to count. I’d never really noticed that stuff before. Wait, that’s not true. I’d noticed them, otherwise I couldn’t tell you about it now. I’d noticed those things, but they hadn’t mattered. In other words, my eyes might’ve spotted towel bulges, but they never stayed fixed on them.
