“Really? I didn’t even notice.” Her voice is breathy. “Oh my fuck.”

“What?” I grab more toilet paper from the roll and dab my lips. “Is it terrible?”

“No, I’m saying oh my fuck because…” She shakes her head in wonderment. “That was a good kiss.”

I can’t disagree. “It was.”

“I want to do it again.”

I haul her up to her feet. “Bad idea.”

“Come on, Monk, let’s do it again. I know you enjoyed it.” She directs a pointed look at my crotch.

“Of course I enjoyed it. I haven’t been with anyone in like eight months.”

A part of her seems to deflate, and I realize I’d said the wrong thing. “You’re saying you would’ve enjoyed kissing anyone? I’m nothing but a pair of lips?”

I let out a breath. “No. You’re much more than that. But you can’t pressure me into being your rebound.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you,” she argues.

“Seriously? You just stuck your tongue in my mouth and now I’m harder than stone. You knew it would tempt me.”

“Oh my God, you gave me the green light. You said you wanted a taste, and I can’t help it if kissing me gets you hard. Jeez, it’s okay to get a boner every now and then.”

A loud guffaw echoes in the doorway. I glance over to find an amused Conor watching us. “Yeah, captain. A boner’s not gonna kill you.”

Demi is smug. “Exactly.”

I’m grateful for the distraction, until I notice Conor assessing her with his trademark Penis Eyes. “And you are?” he asks slowly.

“The reason I look like this,” I answer for her, jerking a finger at my face.

“Ah, the ex-girlfriend and infamous provider of road head.”

“Oh, give it up,” I grumble. “There was no road head. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say, bro.”

Demi grins at Conor. “Sadly for him, this time it’s true. Nothing happened except that I was nearly the victim of ear mutilation. I could’ve died.”

“Chrissake, Semi, you wouldn’t have died.”

“There are important arteries in your ear. What if I bled out?”

“I don’t think there is a single motherfucking artery in an ear,” I growl.

Chuckling, Con gives her another flirtatious appraisal. “All right. So if you’re not with my captain and you’re not with that loser who beat him up, ’that mean you’re single?”

“Yep,” she says, flicking a mocking look my way.

“Excellent. Then how about I get you a drink?”

“Sounds great.” She steps toward him, then glances over her shoulder, as if expecting me to stop her from grabbing a drink with Conor.

But I just lift one shoulder indifferently.

And she walks away.

 

 

24

 

 

Hunter

 

 

DEMI: Did you win your game today?

 

 

ME: Yup yup.

 

 

HER: Don’t say that. But good. I’m glad you won.

 

 

ME: You were worried we’d lose?

 

 

HER: I thought maybe you’d be too banged up from Nico.

 

 

ME: Ribs were a little sore, but I powered through.

 

 

HER: Are you home now?

 

 

ME: Ya, but not for long. Heading into the city soon. Friend of mine coaches girls hockey and they have an exhibition this weekend.

 

 

HER: You played hockey all day and now you’re going to watch hockey all night?

 

 

ME: Got a problem with that?

 

 

HER: You need a life.

 

 

ME: I have one. It’s called hockey.

 

 

I type a follow up, but hesitation ripples through me. My fingers hover over the SEND button. I can still taste her on my lips, and I’m afraid to be around her again.

But we’re friends. If I actively avoid her after one kiss, what the hell kind of friend am I?

I hit SEND.

ME: Wanna come?

 

 

She clearly struggles with her own moment of hesitation, because she takes equally long to respond.

HER: Sure? Anyone else coming or is it just us?

 

 

ME: Just us. Unless you want me to invite Conor…?

 

 

Is there a font for snide? I’m fully aware that nothing happened between them last night, but watching Con flirt with her still grated. And Demi was flirting back. She’d mauled me in the bathroom and then gone off with my teammate and took a tequila shot off his abs.

Although in her defense, I’d all but shoved her into Conor’s arms by pretending I couldn’t care less what she did with him.

HER: Invite whoever you want. I’ll Uber to your place so you don’t have to make the drive to campus. It just started snowing.

 

 

Demi shows up forty-five minutes later, bundled up in her parka, gloves and a bright-green scarf. I’m guessing her favorite color is green, because she wears it frequently. It looks good on her. Brings out the flecks of amber in her dark brown eyes.

“So who’s this friend we’re meeting?” she asks as I flick on the windshield defroster in the Rover.

She was right about it snowing, but sadly it’s only light flurries. Nothing’s sticking to the ground, and I find myself wondering if winter might skip New England altogether this year. So far we’ve received only one major snowfall and it all melted away by the morning. If we don’t get a white Christmas, I’m going to be bummed. It’s the only thing that makes the holidays in Connecticut bearable.

“Dean Di Laurentis,” I answer. “He’s a former teammate, graduated a couple years ago. Oh, and he’s Summer’s brother.”

“Eek. Does that mean he’s as…dramatic as Summer?” Her tone is the epitome of tactful.

“Nah, he’s definitely more chill. They could be twins, though.”

For once, Demi lets me listen to my own music library during the ride. I think we’re both remembering what happened the last time we used her Bluetooth. Still, she makes sure to skip any song she can’t dance to or doesn’t know the words to.

Neither of us brings up the kiss. I’m thinking about it, though. I wonder if she is. I sneak glances at her, but she’s too busy singing along or bopping her sexy torso to the beat. She’s the cutest fucking thing and I want to kick myself for rejecting her.

Dean’s girls are playing at a community center near Chestnut Hill. The parking lot is surprisingly packed and costs twenty bucks to enter. I can afford it, but it’s the principle of the matter.

“Twenty bucks,” I mutter under my breath as we get out of the Rover. “That is a travesty.”

“You’re a travesty.”

Snickering, I check my phone to read an incoming text from Dean.