Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
It was stupid to be nervous at my own house party, but as I waited for Abby to arrive, I was. I wasn’t worried about what other people would think, or about finally letting her stake her claim on me. I wanted everyone to know I was taken.
But I was nervous that this party might bring up bad memories for her. While I couldn’t remember our night together freshman year, it was clear she did, and I did not want that negative memory to pop up tonight when it was supposed to be about us moving forward.
I checked my hair in the hall mirror one last time and readjusted my shirt when Liam walked around the corner. “Dude, what is your deal? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous before.”
Liam was right. I was fidgeting like I was about to take the ice for a championship game, not host a party I’d been to a hundred times before. My hands kept smoothing down my dark blue shirt that I’d chosen specifically because Abby had once mentioned she liked that color on me.
“I just want tonight to go well.”
“Relax,” Liam said, slapping me on the back. “We won’t let anything happen with your girl. We’ll make sure she’s protected from any of the vultures.”
What he meant was puck bunnies.
It didn’t matter the popularity of the sport—athletes were never short on their choice of girls. Girls who’d throw themselves at any guy wearing our team’s logo, looking for a hookup and the status that came with bedding one of us.
Before Abby, I might have indulged occasionally. But now the thought of anyone but her made me feel hollow.
Liam’s hand gripped my shoulder as he guided me down the hall and into our living room, which was already teeming with people.
The bass from Drew’s carefully curated playlist thumped through the floorboards, and the scent of beer and perfume mingled in the air.
Red plastic cups already littered every flat surface despite the trash cans we’d strategically placed around the room.
With one last slap on the back, Liam made his way over to a group of girls, his arms extended.
I scanned the crowd for Abby even though I knew she likely wasn’t here yet. She said she was going to text me when they were close. I checked my phone again but still no text. The screen remained stubbornly blank, making my stomach twist with anticipation.
“Hey, Foster,” a sultry voice said from my side. I glanced over and found Brittany Armstrong standing much closer than I was comfortable with. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, her makeup flawless, and her top cut low enough to leave little to the imagination.
We’d never hooked up but it wasn’t for her lack of trying.
I had a strict rule about not dating or hooking up with girls that my teammates had hooked up with, and Brittany had gotten around.
Last I heard, she’d been with both Drew and Liam at different points, though neither of them talked about it.
“Brittany,” I said, acknowledging her while still scanning the space for Abby’s arrival. I didn’t want to be rude, but I also didn’t want to encourage her.
Brittany placed her hand on my chest and started sliding it up before I grabbed her wrist and removed her hand. Her touch felt wrong, invasive even.
“Don’t touch me,” I told her, my voice firm but not cruel.
She batted her eyelashes, unperturbed by my rejection. “I bet I could make it good for you.”
Her breath smelled like rum and Coke, and I took a small step back.
“I’m not interested,” I told her, still trying to remain polite. I wasn’t going to slut shame her, especially considering the guys that I lived with and their body count, but I also had firm boundaries and wanted her to respect them.
She gave me a faux pout, her glossy lips forming an exaggerated frown. “Foster, you know we’d be great together.”
“I’m in a relationship,” I told her, and heat infused my body as the words came out of my mouth. It felt good to be claimed. To belong to someone. To have someone who belonged to me in a way that meant something beyond physical attraction.
Brittany’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Maybe I should have accounted for how surprising this news might be considering I hadn’t had a relationship the whole time I’d gone to CFU.
I’d been too focused on helping the hockey team get reinstated and find success to make time for a girlfriend.
Between practices, games, and the pressure from my father about the business, relationships had always seemed like an unnecessary complication.
Until Abby.
“You heard me,” I told her because it was clear she had. “I’m in a relationship, so please keep your hands to yourself. I’m sure there are other guys here who’d be happy to give you attention.”
She frowned for a moment and then shrugged, her eyes gleaming with something that made me uncomfortable. “Your girlfriend doesn’t have to know.”
So, clearly Brittany wasn’t a girl’s girl. The casual way she suggested betraying Abby made my skin crawl. As if my relationship was just an inconvenient obstacle to be worked around rather than something I valued.
“I would know, Brittany, and I’m not gonna mess up what I have.”
Abby was one of the first people in my life to make me feel things I hadn’t known were possible. I wouldn’t do anything to risk my relationship with her.
“Oh, come on, Foster,” Brittany said and I opened my mouth to respond, but before the words on the tip of my tongue could come out, another familiar voice interrupted.
“I think he made himself pretty clear.”
I looked away from Brittany and found Abby standing in front of us, Sam by her side staring daggers at Brittany, even though Abby had been the one to speak.
My heart did a somersault in my chest. Abby looked stunning in a simple green sweater that complemented her brown eyes and jeans that hugged her curves in all the right places. She wore her hair the way I loved it best—falling loosely around her shoulders. She looked fucking beautiful.
“You’re the girlfriend?” Brittany asked, looking Abby up and down with an expression that made me want to step between them.
I hated the judgment in her gaze, and before Abby could answer, I said, “Yeah, she is. Now you can either go enjoy the party around other people or you can get out of my house.”
She huffed, spun on her heel, and then stormed away, her blonde hair whipping behind her as she disappeared into the crowd.
I turned to Abby, hoping this hadn’t already ruined the party for her. “I’m so sorry.”
The last thing I wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome at my house.
She moved closer until our bodies were nearly touching, and I gave in to the impulse to wrap my arms around her waist. Relief infused my body as she leaned against me and her hands rested on my chest. The warmth of her body eased the tension Brittany had caused.
These were the only hands I wanted on my body.
She smiled up at me, no trace of discomfort in her expression. “It’s okay. You don’t have anything to apologize for. Sorry we were a little late.”
I smiled down at her and slid my hand through her hair then cupped the back of her neck. Her hair was like silk between my fingers. I used my thumb to tilt her chin up as I angled my face down and kissed her gently. Her lips were warm and yielding under mine, tasting faintly of cherry lip balm.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said as I pulled away, though I kept her close, unwilling to break contact completely.
“Me too,” she whispered against my lips, her breath mingling with mine.
“Alright, you two are adorably sickening so I’m gonna go make the rounds,” Sam said, rolling her eyes but smiling as she did.
We both grinned at her as she walked away, disappearing into the crowd with a confidence I’d come to associate with her. Then I took Abby’s hand in mine and our fingers interlaced perfectly, like they were made to fit together. “You want a drink?” I asked her.
She nibbled that bottom lip of hers, and a bolt of lust struck me. My gaze darkened as it narrowed on her plump pink lip, and the ache to replace her teeth with mine was almost too strong to ignore. Heat pooled low in my stomach as I imagined all the ways I wanted to taste her.
“Or we could skip the party and go up to my room.”
Red stained her cheeks, spreading across her face in a blush that I found endearing. For all her intelligence and confidence in some areas, she still had this adorable shyness that made me want to both protect her and corrupt her in equal measure.
“I think we should stay. You wanted this to be our big coming out. We can’t really announce to the world that we’re together as a couple if we hide away in your room.”
She had a point. Plus, I didn’t really want to rush this.
Don’t get me wrong. I was desperate to be inside her, but I also wanted to savor every touch and every moment we had.
I wanted to take my time with her.
The guys would probably have called me a pussy for that, but Abby made me want to be tender.
I wanted to make it special for her in a way it had never been for me.
I’d always seen it as scratching an itch and a brief moment of connection.
But I felt more connection with Abby just holding her hand, looking into her brown eyes than I ever had when I’d been having sex with someone else.
And I knew being with her like that would ruin me for anyone else.
We walked around the party and I got us some drinks. I introduced her to people, my arm around her waist, my thumb occasionally brushing the strip of skin exposed when her sweater rode up. Each touch sent electricity through my fingertips.
We joined in a game of beer pong and it was fun to teach Abby how to play. Her aim was surprisingly accurate, and the concentration on her face as she lined up her shots was adorable. She was pretty good although she claimed it was beginner’s luck.
I wasn’t so sure about that. She seemed to be good at anything she put her mind to.
I’d seen how she approached her studies, how she’d figured out methods to help me with math when no one else had ever been able to.
She had a way of breaking problems down and finding solutions that was nothing short of impressive.
It only took a few introductions of her as my girlfriend before word spread through the party. It was almost amusing watching the looks and the whispers, the awe in some of the faces, the smiles and the claps on the back from other guys.
A few of the hockey guys who didn’t live with us came over to meet her, and I could tell they were impressed by how easily she kept up with their banter. Seeing her fit in so seamlessly with my friends just drove home the fact that she was perfect for me.
As I looked around the room, very few of these people actually knew me, and none of them knew me as well as Abby except for maybe Gordy, Drew, and Liam. So why did it even matter what they thought?
Why did it even matter that we made this official in this way?
Abby was mine and I was hers. No one else got a say in that.
As if sensing my thoughts, she squeezed my hand and leaned up to whisper in my ear, “I’m having a really good time.”
I pulled her closer, wrapping both arms around her waist and resting my forehead against hers. In a room full of people, it felt like we were the only two that existed. “Me too,” I murmured. “But mostly because you’re here.”
Her smile in response was worth every moment of nervousness I’d felt earlier.
This wasn’t just another party. This was the start of something that felt bigger than anything I’d experienced before.
And for once in my life, I wasn’t thinking about hockey or my father or what anyone else expected of me.
I was just thinking about her.