Page 6 of Totally Pucked

I jerk my gaze toward the bar where there’s a red bucket on the counter. Carter and Rachel are there, smiling mischievously. On the side of the bucket, words in white say:Singles for Kisses.

Fisher and I both crane our necks to the ceiling. Oh. Wow. There’s a sprig of mistletoe above us.

My breath catches.

The other patrons grab bills then chant: “Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her.” Pretty sure Fisher’s cousin is chanting the loudest.

My heart speeds up. My skin tingles.

What the hell is happening to me?

Do I want to kiss Fisher? My long-time friend with sexy scruff and bright green eyes? The one with the strong body, and the killer arms?

And, just as important, does he want to kiss me?

He gives a casual shrug but there’s a smile on his lips that doesn’t look friendly. It’s a sexy smile. He looks like a man on a date. “It is for charity,” he whispers, and his rich, sexy voice sends a rush of heat down my back.

I don’t entirely know what to make of these new sensations, but now’s not the time for thought. It’s a time for action, and I give in to the moment. “Then be charitable,” I say, and wow, that came out flirty and sensual and inviting.

He leans across the table, then dusts his lips to mine. It’s a hint of a kiss, barely there, just a tease. And yet, I want more.

I want a kiss that lingers into the night. And then, this one does. For a few hot seconds, it’s real and delicious.

I want so much more of it. Of him. But then a bell rings, breaking me from this kiss trance.

As we separate slowly, the crowd cheers again, then stuffs bills into the bucket. “The cats and dogs thank you,” the bartender shouts.

I steal a glance at my friend. Fisher looks dazed.

I feel dazed.

Then he scrubs his hand across his jaw, and quietly but clearly says, “I could be your test subject.”

My brow knits. No way did he say that. “What?”

But he doesn’t relent as he holds my gaze. “If you want to know if you’re actually weird in bed. Or if you need lessons. I’d be a very good teacher.”

I freeze. Is he for real? “You’re hilarious,” I say with a bubbly,you’re so funnysmile.

For a sliver of a second, he looks starkly serious, then he erases his expression and his face is full of friendly cheer again. “Good one, right?”

But when I go home that night, I can’t stop thinking about how much I want a lesson with Fisher.

And that’s a dangerous thought for our friendship.

5

THE SCARF DID IT

Fisher

As I turn the corner on Octavia Street, heading to Katie’s building the next night, the sparkling lights of the neighborhood holiday decorations twinkle in the trees and along the awnings.

They’re festive and fun.

And they arenot, not, notromantic.

I hammer that reminder into my brain as I near her building. So what if we’ll be surrounded by thousands of little glowing lights tonight. After dark. In a garden.

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