Chapter Twenty-One
TWENTY-ONE
Aidan
I smile down at my phone as I reread my conversation with Hermia on Scribble Share.
I think back to how fun and easy it felt to talk to her, how we vented about our frustrations of the day, how she admitted that she’s a writer too, how her asshole ex had made fun of her writing.
How I instantly felt angry for her and protective over her, and told her that her ex was a piece of shit for doing that and that she should keep writing.
Maybe it’s weird that I had such a reaction. But it was instant. I’ve never even met Hermia, but from all of my chats with her on Scribble Share, she’s such a kind and supportive person. Everything she says feels so genuine. She’s never mean or cruel, like some people are when they’re online or on an app. She didn’t deserve to be treated like that, especially by someone who’s supposed to care about her.
Even now as I read back that part of our conversation on my phone, I can feel that anger spark up inside of me. What a pretentious, self-important prick. I’d bet anything he writes literary fiction. Those guys are the fucking worst.
Jason elbows me. I glance up at him, but then I hear a crashing sound.
We look up just in time to see Liam smash a player from the opposing team into the boards and steal the puck. The home crowd around us cheers.
We holler as he takes off down the ice.
“Everything okay?” Jason asks, his eyes on the ice. “You keep looking at your phone.”
“Yeah, sorry, just got a little distracted.” I really shouldn’t be glued to my phone right now. I should be focused on watching my brother play.
I type a quick message to Hermia.
Just wanted to slide into your DMs and see if you’ve written anything? Because I’m dying to read something from you :)
I put my phone away and spend the next few minutes watching the game. But the whole time, I’m thinking about Hermia.
Maybe it’s silly, but that conversation we had the other night completely changed my mood. I was so upset and frustrated from arguing with Micah that day. Even writing a new post on Scribble Share wasn’t enough to clear my head. But then Hermia messaged me to compliment my post and I was all smiles. The conversation from there flowed so naturally. It felt like talking to an old friend…and a little like flirting too.
That probably sounds so pathetic. It was just a pleasant and fun conversation with an internet stranger. I shouldn’t read more into it.
But there was definitely a different vibe…it was more playful and more teasing. And she seemed into it too.
I shake my head, annoyed at myself with how much I’m thinking about this right now. Liam, who plays center for Nashville, speeds down the ice toward the opposing team’s net with the puck. He takes a shot, but it’s blocked by the goalie. The crowd lets out a collective disappointed “Ahhh.”
“Kendall didn’t want to come tonight?” Jason asks.
I shake my head. “You know she hates hockey. She’d rather drink a shot of vinegar.”
He laughs. “Good point. She came to a lot of Liam’s games with us when he played in college though. She seemed to have a good time then. I wonder what changed.”
Jason is right. Kendall attended hockey games with us when Liam played for Vanderbilt. But after that house party we all went to, she started acting pretty frosty to Liam. She went to a few games after that but then stopped altogether. When he started playing professionally for the Nashville Wolves, she went to one game, and that was because Jason and I practically begged her to come. But that game was it. She hasn’t been to one since.
“Yeah, I wonder that too,” I say to Jason.
The opposing team’s defender steals the puck from Nashville and speeds down the ice. Liam takes off after him, checks him, then swipes the puck and takes off in the other direction. He weaves around a few opposing players, then shoots, sinking the puck into the net.
Jason and I jump up and holler in celebration, along with the rest of the crowd. The goal siren blares, and along with the cheers from the crowd, the sound in the arena is deafening.
Liam skates past his team box, high-fiving everyone. Then he flashes a smirk at the opposing team as he skates by their box. One of the players shoves him, but Liam just laughs.
Jason shakes his head and chuckles. “Your brother is a shit stirrer.”
“He really is. It was annoying as fuck to grow up with.”
* * *
After the game, we head to a pizza place in the 12 South neighborhood to meet Liam for drinks. We settle into a booth and order beer and pizza while we wait for him. I snap a photo of the menu and text it to him, asking what drink he wants so I can order it for him.
A notification from Scribble Share pops up on my screen. I tap it and see it’s a new message from Hermia. I’m grinning.
You are relentless :P But okay…*deep breath* I wrote something. It’s probably terrible, so you have to promise not to laugh when you read it. It’s not even fanfic…it’s just a random idea that popped in my brain earlier and I just kinda went with it. Here goes nothing!
Mischievous caramel eyes peer over a handful of playing cards. “What do you have?”
I cross my legs, then uncross them, then cross them again. My bare thighs stick against the hard wood of the chair. I wonder if this hand will cost me my tank top.
I spread the cards face up onto the table. “Three of a kind,” I say.
Gavin raises an eyebrow. “Not bad.”
I smile. It’s about damn time. I’ve lost everything other than my panties and top in this game.
He tosses his cards down. “Beats my pair.”
I squeal and pump my fist in the air.
“Don’t get too excited,” he tuts. “From what I can see, you’ve only got a couple of items left on you. It’s still anyone’s game.”
He’s right. This night of strip poker has tested many things for us. My ability to learn a new card game. Gavin’s ability to tell if I’m lying or not by simply looking at my face. Our abilities to restrain ourselves while half-naked, just inches away from one another.
This past hour is the longest we’ve ever refrained from touching each other when this close, while wearing this little clothing.
I shrug. “True. But right now it’s my game, my win, and I want your shirt.”
His crooked smile—my favorite smile—makes an overdue appearance. He tilts his head to me and stands up.
“As you wish.” His gray cotton T-shirt drops to the floor. He stays standing for an extra few seconds. He knows this is my favorite state of undress. Him in nothing but boxers, his sculpted torso on display.
My eyes fall to his chest first, then his arms. An impressive amount of chiseled muscle rests under that honey skin. I lick my lips, suddenly unconcerned with who wins or loses. All I really want is his body on top of mine.
“Control yourself,” he advises with a mock frown. “We’ve got a game to finish.”
The next hand goes to him. “Your top,” he says with a slight growl at the end.
My heart thuds at the thought of being topless in front of him. Not because I’m nervous or embarrassed, but because the anticipation is killing me. I wonder just how long we can keep up this charade of a card game before we attack each other with our mouths.
I stand and slide the thin white cotton over my head. It joins the puddle of gray on the floor. Gavin’s tongue runs along his bottom lip. The faintest pink hue covers his cheeks; his eyes display a familiar haze. My missing tank top has him in a tizzy. I flash him my most seductive smile.
“I’ll deal this round.” My breasts skim the polished tabletop as I reach for the cards. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s gawking.
Before I can lean back into my chair, Gavin’s hand covers mine, pinning it to the table. “Wait,” he whispers.
When I gaze into his unblinking eyes, I know I have him.
“Screw this,” he says. With a single slide of his forearm, the cards fly off the table and onto the floor.
In an instant he’s at my side. With both hands encircling my waist, he sets me on top of the table. We’re kissing before I can utter a word. Our tongues resume the filthy rhythm we employ whenever we kiss.
He leans forward, arms caging me, pressing me down flat.
“But who won?” I say with a desperate gasp.
His silky lips glide along the side of my neck and down my chest. He gives attention to both of my breasts, encircling my nipples with his tongue until I’m crying out. He trails wet kisses along my stomach all the way down to my panties. He hooks both his thumbs over the sides and pulls them off.
I already know the answer to my question. I just want to hear him say it.
He smirks. “You won. You got me to fold without even dealing the cards.”
His mouth falls to the inside of my left thigh. He presses a single soft kiss to my skin, then repeats the move on my other thigh. Air pushes out of my lungs in a shaky exhale. I close my eyes, my head rolling to the side. I’ve never come on top of a table before.
I bite back the grin crawling across my face. The steam of his exhale on my skin sends a shiver through me.
“Now lie back and relax like a good girl while I eat your pussy.”
I stare at my phone screen, eyes wide and unblinking.
Holy shit. That was hot as fuck.
I try to swallow, but all that comes out is a strangled noise. It’s then that I realize just how tight my pants feel. Reading Hermia’s flash fiction made me half hard.
“Aidan? Aidan?”
I jerk my head up and see Jason, who’s frowning at me.
“You okay?” he asks. “Your face is red.”
I clear my throat three times before I feel confident enough to speak. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just reading an email.”
Jason chuckles. “You looked like you were about to pass out.”
I try to laugh, but I end up making an awkward barking sound. I’m turned on in public. Goddamn it.
With my free hand, I gesture to my glass. “I think it’s the beer. Tastes really hoppy,” I lie. “Not sure I like it.”
Jason aims a thoughtful glance at his glass. “Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” He takes a long sip, and I quickly type a message to Hermia.
Hermia, are you kidding me? Your writing is amazing! So damn good. Seriously. This whole time you’ve been able to write like this and you’ve been hiding it?? Please post your fanfic on the site. Pretty please? The readers on Scribble Share will lose their minds over it, I promise :)
I exit out of the app and set my phone aside, right as Liam walks in. I wave at him and he walks over. He slides into the booth seat next to me.
Jason and I congratulate him on the goal he scored tonight.
He grins. “Thanks.” He glances at the pitcher of beer. “We just drinking beer tonight?”
And that’s when I remember I forgot to put in his drink order. I was too distracted reading Hermia’s flash fiction.
“Oh, sorry,” I say. Our server walks by, and I order the vodka Red Bull Liam texted me that he wanted.
Liam laughs as he looks at me. “You okay? You look a little out of it.”
“Right?” Jason chuckles. “He’s been glued to his phone the whole night. Even during your game.”
My little brother raises his eyebrow, a gleam in his eyes. “Really? You sexting or something?”
I make a grossed-out face and shake my head, feeling defensive and embarrassed at the same time. “Hell no. Just had to catch up on some emails.”
They both laugh. Liam pats my shoulder. “Oh, definitely. You can’t let those emails pile up.”
I roll my eyes at him and take another drink of my beer.
He smacks his palm against my cheek. “Aww, are you blushing? I didn’t know emails made you blush, big brother. Unless they’re…dirty emails.”
Jason laughs. I shove Liam’s hand away.
“So. How did post-game press go?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
Liam laughs again, and we talk about the game. But the whole rest of the night I can’t stop thinking about Hermia.
I’m so happy she’s writing again. Just from reading that short scene, I can tell how good she is. Pride swells in my chest that she has the courage to write again after her douchebag ex insulted her dream.
I start to smile, then take a drink so Liam and Jason don’t give me more shit. I don’t even know Hermia and I’m proud of her. I get excited every time I see a new message from her. I grin like an idiot when we message each other. I like her. A lot. And when we joke and tease each other, it feels a lot like flirting.
I’m probably reading into this too much. She probably sees me as a fun internet friend, nothing more.
For the rest of the night, I try to remind myself of that. But I can’t help the excitement that sparks in my chest every time I think about her.