Page 39 of Puck Shots
“Sure. Are you going with a bunch of guys from the house or your team?” I ask, and I watch his cheeks warm under the low lights.
“Some of the frat brothers will probably be going. There are a few who take a Storytelling for Film and Television course, and Luka and I were extras in one of their films last year, but I was thinking we could just go. You know. Just us?”
“Oh.”
“You don’t have to. It was just an idea,” he says before I get a chance to finish my thought.
“No, I want to. I was just…surprised.”
He looks down at me with a small smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth.
“By what? That I want to spend time with you around other people?”
I shrug.
“I guess so. Yeah.”
He stops, and using his free hand, he brushes my hair behind my ear.
“You are adorable, you know that?” he asks, and I know my face must be as bright as an apple with how hot I feel, but I can’t look away. His tongue swipes over his lower lip as his gaze moves briefly to my mouth and back up. “I’ve never really been good at hiding who I date, but if that’s what you need—”
“No,” I blurt, and his face lights up in a wide smile. “I want to be seen with you.”
He laughs, and I shake my head.
“I mean, I don’t want to hide away either. I’m cool with it being just us. That’s what I meant,” I say, and he cups the side of my face with his hand, and a terrifying but also fucking incredible thought crosses my mind. Is he going to kiss me?
“Good, because you really shouldn’t hide that pretty face away.”
His gaze momentarily moves to my mouth again, and I wonder, should I kiss him? But before I can make up my mind between that being the best idea I’ve ever had and a sure-fire way to screw this up by going too fast, he makes the decision for me and the second his mouth is on mine, the entire world disappears.
This is nothing like the dream of kissing him. It’s better, way better. His mouth fits perfectly with mine, warm and soft. His tongue teases at my lips, and when they part and it melds with mine, his hand slips to the back of my neck, fingers lacing through my hair as he pulls me closer.
I’m half hard already, and even though we’re pressed together, it’s like my body can’t get close enough. I need him like I need breath. Like I’ve been adrift at sea in the sweltering heat, and he’s the rain I prayed for.
It’s better than any fantasy and dream, any thought of what this could be, because this is real. This is him. This is us.
I have no idea how much time passes when we finally come up for air, but he’s got a pink glow around his mouth from the slight scruff on my face, and judging by the tingle around my lips, I’m guessing I do, too.
“That was…”
“Amazing,” I finish.
“That’s exactly what it was.”
“Should we…” I ask, gesturing to the path ahead.
“Yeah, we should. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I beat Sam in chess yesterday,” I say and start us on our walk again, arms swinging in time with our step, a goofy happy look on his face.
“I would have paid to see that. Did he take it well? Tell me he chucked a giant tantrum like a toddler?”
“Ha, no, he took it great. He did say he was recovering from a cold and asked for a rematch next week, though.”
“That guy hasn’t been sick in the entire time I’ve known him.” He laughs. “Can I watch next time?”
“Sure, if you want.”
“I want…” he replies, the words hanging there like he might want to add something else but he doesn’t, and we continue walking all the way back to the house, talking about chess and hockey and classes, and it’s perfect.
