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The confident, sexy woman who mauled me at the door has transformed into a shy, blushing girl who says, “Um, so…listen…I’ve never had sex before.” Oh fuck.
“I’m in such a fucked up place right now. I have a lot of fun with you, but…” I swallow. “I can’t give you anything serious.” She finally speaks, her voice tight and laced with embarrassment. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Logan.” “I know. But sex…sex is serious, okay? Especially for a virgin.”
“No, you just want what we have. You want the connection and the closeness and all the gooey relationship stuff.” My mouth snaps shut.
All this time I’ve been feeling guilty about wanting my best friend’s girl, but I think what I really wanted was my best friend’s relationship.
I broke up with her to avoid getting into a serious relationship with her, and now it turns out that’s what I wanted all along. “Damn it. I…screwed up.” I rub my eyes, groaning softly.
“Bryndan? Lord, what is the matter with parents these days?” Mom shakes her head in amazement. “Anyway, remember when Bryn—nope, I can’t even say it, it’s that stupid.
“Sweetie, he obviously feels bad about what happened, otherwise he wouldn’t be trying to contact you. And…well, you were going to, ah…give him your flower—” I do a literal spit take. Coffee drizzles down my chin and neck, and I quickly grab a napkin to wipe it away before it stains my pajama top.
next year I’ll be going from a Division I team to the Munsen Miners. Yup, I’ll be the star player of an amateur league, on a team that’s named after an activity this town isn’t even known for.
“Stay outta this, Jeffy! I’m talking to your big brother.” Dad blinks. “L’il brother, I mean. He’s the younger one, right?” Jeff and I exchange a look. Shit. He’s really out of it.
Yup, shit got real today. Dad threw a can and a tantrum, which resulted in me nearly taking a swing at him.
My friends know I don’t drink beer unless it’s the only option available, but I’ve always claimed my dislike for it stems from the fact that beer is weak and tastes like shit. The truth? The smell serves as a depressing reminder of my childhood.
“I almost slept with this older chick a few weeks ago.” He grins. “How much older?” “She’s…twenty-seven, I think? She’s a teacher here in town. Smoking hot.” “Nice. Are you—wait, what do you mean, almost?” I awkwardly sip my beer. “Couldn’t go through with it.”
“Bullshit. You look like your dog just died.” He abruptly glances around the clearing. “Oh shit, did your dog die? Do you have a dog? I suddenly realized I know nothing about your life here.”
This is giving "Babe, your dog died!? Wait, you dont have a dog" (Brad Warner from Bring It On: All or Nothing circa 2006)
“Is this why you’ve been partying like there’s no tomorrow?” Garrett demands. “Because you believe there literally isn’t a tomorrow?”
Maybe I need to start viewing it as an opportunity. One more year to enjoy my freedom. To play the game I love. To hang out with friends I’m lucky to have and probably don’t deserve. Freedom, hockey, and friends. Yup, all those things make the list. But the number one slot? That’s a no-brainer. I need to make things right with Grace.
My shoulders tense, almost as if I’m anticipating to find Grace in the gazebo. Which is stupid, because of course she’s not— Holy shit, she is.
My throat is tight with embarrassment. “I was jealous of what they have. And I was stressing about other things too, family stuff, and hockey. I know it sounds like I’m making excuses, but it’s the truth. I wasn’t in a good place, and I was too confused and bitter about my life to appreciate what I had. I really did like you. Do like you,” I amend hastily.
We love an honest communicative king
a new year equals a new me. Or rather, an improved version of the old me.
First and foremost—be confident. Second—be spontaneous. Third—the only opinion that matters is your own.
“You know who else had natural charm?” I retort. “Ted Bundy.” Dean dons a blank look. “Who?” “The serial killer.” Oh Jesus, I’ve jumped on the Bundy bandwagon. I’m turning into Grace.
for once in her life, Ramona defers to me. “Can we still…I don’t know, text? Have coffee sometime?” She sounds like a little girl who’s just been told the cherished family dog has been taken to “the farm.” After a beat, I nod. “I’m okay with that. Starting off slowly.”
Lusting over him is too close to liking him, and I’m not ready to open that door yet. If ever.
appreciate the gesture, but do you really think a muffin is going to wow me?” “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you an entire meal when we’re out on our date.” He winks. “Anything you want off the menu.”
Amused, Garrett glances from me to Logan. “I took a mandatory conflict resolution seminar back in high school. Do you guys need a mediator?” I pick up my coffee. “Well, the stenographer who follows me around is on a lunch break, but I can catch you up no problem. Logan asked me out, and I solved the conflict by respectfully declining. There. I did all the work for you.”
This is so funny to me
Ted’s awesome—you’ll meet him at the party tonight.” I have to laugh. “Who says ‘Gretchen’ is even going to that party?” “Morrison says so. He’s wanted to ask Gretchen out since he met her.”
prediction: grace and this musoc guy will go to the party and LOGAN will be there and see them together and go batshitcrazy
I had no intention of throwing down tonight, but if some slimy mofo so much as looks at Grace wrong, he’ll be leaving this party on a stretcher.
Protective? Hot
“You’ve been playing hard to get for three years,” she accuses. “Isn’t it about time you gave us what we wanted?” A snort slips out before I can stop it. “What you want, Piper. I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m not interested.”
Fat Ted, by the way? Not fat.
sexual awareness heating the air between us. “How long are you going to keep fighting it?” His voice is husky. Laced with desire.
“Kiss me.” His raspy command is barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
“Kiss me,” he murmurs again, and my control snaps. I grab the back of his head and bring his mouth to mine, kissing him as if possessed.
“I just wanted a kiss. Not a hook-up.” He draws a deep breath. “I meant what I said the other day. I want to take you on a date.”
Yep, I’m angry. And annoyed. And thoroughly flabbergasted.
“What is wrong with you?” I say in lieu of greeting. “You went to Morris’s dorm and declared your intentions?” He offers a faint smile. “Of course. It was the noble thing to do. I can’t be chasing after another guy’s girl without his knowledge.”
“We’re the Lorris crime syndicate.” I’m dumbfounded. Oh my God. Lorris? As in Logan and Morris? They fucking Brangelina’d themselves?
An idea niggles at the back of my mind. It’s a crazy one. Outrageous, even. But hey, if Logan can’t tackle a few simple obstacles, then maybe he doesn’t deserve another shot. “Anything?” I say slowly. His blue eyes shine with fortitude. “Anything, gorgeous. Absolutely anything.”
“I’m writing a love poem,” I answer without thinking. Then I slam my lips together, realizing what I’ve done. Dead silence crashes over the kitchen.
“I just have one question,” Garrett starts. “Really?” Tuck says. “Because I have many.”
These guys are such bros i find it so funny
don’t notice what Tucker’s up to until it’s too late. He snatches the notepad from the table, studies it, and hoots loudly. “Holy shit. G, he rhymed jackass with Cutlass.”
“Jesus Christ, will you quit dictating this conversation to Hannah?” I grumble. “Bros before hos, dude.” “Call my girlfriend a ho one more time and you won’t have a bro.”
I want that date with Logan more than anything else in this world, and I regret all this hoop jumping, because honestly, he won me over the second he sent me that poem.
Did I mention he’s wearing a suit? He looks spectacular in a suit.
“Well. Um. The thing is…” I inhale, then continue with rapid-fire speed. “Imnotahockeyfan.”
The moment he’s in the driver’s seat, our fingers intertwine again, and he drives one-handed the entire way back to campus.
“You called me Johnny,” he says, his breath tickling my lips. “Is that not allowed?” I tease. His thumb softly grazes my bottom lip. “My friends call me John sometimes, but only my family calls me Johnny.” His gaze burns with intensity. “I liked it.”
So what the heck is he doing dating me? And by dating, I mean dating. We haven’t even had sex yet, for God’s sake.
“Blow me, Sabrina.” She cocks a brow. “Yeah? Pull it out, big boy.” Dean raises a brow of his own. “I should. Maybe having something in your mouth will finally shut you up.”
Im lol i love dean
His mouth falls open. Then understanding dawns, and a slow smile stretches his mouth. “Wait, this is about you being jealous?” I bristle. “No.” “Nuh-uh. You’re jealous.”
“Look, it’s no secret you’ve been on the radar of every scout since your high school career. And you already know I’ve had inquiries about you before. Anyway, if you’re interested, they want you to come in and practice with the Providence Bruins.” Jesus Christ. They want me to practice with the development team for the Boston fucking Bruins?
The temptation is so strong I can taste the victory. This isn’t just a pro team holding out the apple—it’s the team.
