Page 26 of Puck You Very Much
“I’m out of here,” Jakob said.
“Wait!”
Jakob not only ignored me but stepped out into the hallway beside the gym itself, towel hard-on and all.
The kiss might’ve been awkward, but at least I hadn’t made as much of an ass of myself as Jakob.
When I peered down, I noticed I was sporting a throbbing hard-on of my own.
12
JAKOB
Igot a text, simply saying,It’s Zane, we’ve got to talk.
First, I wanted to know how the hell he’d gotten my number. I didn’t share it with anyone outside of teammates, friends, and select relatives. I would’ve asked him straight out, too, if a shit-ton of even more important thoughts hadn’t clouded my mind.
Worse, he’d suggested we get together. No, heinsistedon it. Actually, that wasn’t even the worst part. I awarded that title to the fact that I agreed with him one hundred percent. We obviously had plenty to talk about and, now that I’d finished throwing up from our locker room fiasco, we could discuss the situation like civilized adults.
I would’ve suggested we meet at a coffee shop, partly because no shenanigans could happen there. Zane insisted on coming to my place even though I threw at him every excuse in the book for why I couldn’t entertain.
Unfortunately, I lost that battle.
I had a small first-floor apartment on the corner of Norwood and Breckenridge. My roommate moved out the month before, and I’d advertised for a new one, since carrying the rent alonehad proven a total ball buster. For the first time, I felt relieved that no one else would be there.
When I greenlighted Zane’s request, he promised to arrive in twenty minutes. Enough time to shower, so I could smell nice for him. I could brush my teeth, so he would find no plaque or cavities if his eyes drew dangerously close to my mouth again.
God…
I couldn’t think about anything without drifting back to the kiss, a return to his moist, warm lips. I remembered his chest pressed against mine, feeling his nipples?—
No!I told myself.Stop it!
The more I thought about it, the more the past would haunt me, I realized. Both my breathing and heartbeat quickened as I awaited Zane’s arrival. I couldn’t sit down either, which spoke volumes. I kept pacing the floor, expecting to wear out the front hall carpet before long.
Let’s just say it didn’t take Zane twenty minutes to reach my apartment. I doubted a full ten minutes passed before I received another text from Zane, telling me he was at the front door.
I crossed myself before answering.
Come on, that’s notthatdramatic. If Zane appeared everywhere you went, and you shared a moment like ours at the gym, you’d cross yourself, too. Matter of fact, you’d probably bring garlic and holy water, too.
I yanked the door open much like how I would tear off a band-aid to minimize the agony.
And there he stood, Zane Hirst, looking taller than ever, his hair the waviest I’d ever seen it. The swelling from the knuckle sandwich I’d given him had finally cleared up, returning him to his usual ultra-handsome self.
Ultra-handsome… no denying that term had become part of my thought process. Pushing it the hell out would be my next project.
Instead of doing that, I stood there, feeling a little lost.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked.
“No.”
He arched his eyebrows, and I paused.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “that totally came out wrong. Come in, come in.”
When he stepped through the door, I felt nauseated all over again. I couldn’t believe Zane Hirst was standing in the middle of my living room. In a weird way, I felt like I’d invited Satan himself into my home.
