16. Holding Pinkies
SIXTEEN
HOLDING PINKIES
Lach
My phone rings next to me, and I glance at the screen. Jake’s name flashes across the top. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been doing my best to avoid him. Mostly because I’m trying to figure out all this shit with Eve. I fear I’ll spill everything to him, and he’ll split my lip. Losing my best friend isn’t an option. He is one of the few constants in my life, and my life would be shit without him.
I press talk. “Hey, what’s up?”
“The hockey game is on tonight. I ordered a couple of pizzas. Want to come over?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Shit. Eve. I certainly can’t ask if she’ll be there, or it might look suspicious. Racking my brain, I try to remember if I saw her name on the schedule tonight. Either way, I hope she’s working. “I’ll be over in a little bit.”
I park my truck at the curb at the front of the house. I should have driven around back to see if Jake’s truck is here. After hiking up the few stairs, I rap my knuckles against the aged wood door, announcing my entrance before I twist the knob and step inside to the small entryway, catching the scent of tomato sauce and melted cheese. As I shrug out of my jacket, I glance around to see if Eve’s here. Both the couch and chair are empty. No other voices can be heard, only the announcer on the TV. Jake strolls into the living room with a pizza box in one hand and a beer in the other. He tosses the unopened can in my direction. I juggle the beer before securing it between my hands.
“Just in time. It’s about to start.” Jake nods toward the TV.
“Great.” I crack open the beer and take a long swig before throwing myself on the couch. Jake takes a seat on the opposite side. Asking him about Eve is on the tip of my tongue. But I shouldn’t. Instead, I wait.
By the start of the second period, Eve’s a no-show. I lean against the couch, sinking into the cushion. The rumble of an engine sounds from outside. My gaze shifts to Jake, and he’s staring at the TV. I glance over my shoulder at the back door. After a few beats pass, my nerves settle. Then the door opens and clicks shut.
“Oh my god, you’ll never believe what happened tonight.” Eve steps through the doorway from the kitchen to the living room. “A couple came in and got a table. They had a few drinks and talked, even laughed. After a little while he slides?—”
Our eyes lock, and she freezes. She bites her lips together, fighting her smile. My foot bounces. I want to jump up and kiss her. Tell her I’m an idiot and I don’t regret our kiss from a few days ago. But Jake’s next to me.
She hangs her jacket in the closet next to the front door. “Anyway, he slid divorce papers across the table. Then he just got up and left. Who does that?” She saunters into the living room and shimmies past me. Her tight jeans that hug her hips are at my eye level. Hockey. Ice. Sweat. Pucks. I need to think of anything other than what color panties she’s wearing underneath her jeans. Her gaze wanders from my knees, up my torso, past my chest, until we lock eyes for a few beats. I pray she’s going to keep walking and sit in the armchair next to Jake.
She spins around, and the center cushion depresses as she takes a seat. “What are we watching?”
“Hockey,” Jake says without taking his eyes off the TV.
“I love hockey. I’m down for some stick-in-the-net action. She tucks her feet under her, leaning closer to me.
“Puck. Puck in the net. Not the stick,” Jake deadpans.
Eve’s eyes lock with mine. “As long as something goes in my, I mean, the net.”
“I’m going to get another.” Jake lifts his can of non-alcoholic beer. “Want one?”
“I’m good.” I wave him off.
“Eve?” Jake asks.
“No thanks. But I’ll have some pizza.” Reaching forward, she grabs a slice from the box on the coffee table. She lifts the slice to her mouth and takes a giant bite. “Mmm.” She chews and swallows. “I wish I could make pizza this good. Hell, I wish I could cook anything this good. Cooking’s not my forte.”
Once Jake disappears behind the wall, I lean in so only she can hear. “What are you doing? You’re not mad at me?”
She takes another bite, chews, and swallows before she says, “I talked with Nora. She said you’re an idiot and don’t know what you want. If I want this,” she points between us, “I need to take matters into my own hands.”
I’m relieved to know she’s not mad at me because, fuck, all I want to do is lay her down on this couch and kiss every inch of her naked body. The sound of the fridge door closing jerks me from the fantasy playing in my head. I drop my hand to my crotch and discretely adjust myself in my jeans, except it doesn’t go unnoticed by Eve, who’s currently smirking at me.
“What did I miss?” Jake says as he enters the living room.
“Nothing,” we both say in unison.
Jake takes a seat on the couch. “What the hell? Nothing? Minnesota scored a goal.”
“Oh yeah. That happened,” Eve says.
During the rest of the period, I steal glances at Eve while also making sure Jake doesn’t notice. I’m an asshole.
Eve wraps her arms around herself. “What temperature do you have it in here? Artic?”
“It’s not that cold,” Jake says.
“Easy for you to say when you’re a natural radiator.” Eve twists to face me. Reaching over my lap, her tits graze my arm. She peers up at me from under her lashes. A smile twitches on her lips. Her fingers wrap around the corner of a small fleece blanket, dragging it over me. She haphazardly unfolds it, a corner falling over my lap while she covers hers. I don’t move the blanket and neither does she. Her hand dips underneath the fleece. She stares at the TV while her fingertips brush against my leg.
I peer at Jake, whose attention is on the game, and then I slide my hand under the blanket. I find Eve’s hand and brush my thumb over the back. The touch is small, but it’s exactly what I need. She makes all my worries disappear. Even when she’s my biggest worry. My attention is no longer on the game, but instead, it’s on Eve as I trail a fingertip over her palm. She adjusts herself on the couch, inching closer to me. I hook my pinky around hers. Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and she fights a smile. As much as I want to pull her to my lap and nuzzle her neck, I can’t. Instead, I settle for her touch. She’s tearing down my willpower, brick by brick, and soon I’ll no longer be able to deny her. Or myself.