Chapter 3 #2
I scoffed. “Not so much. I was never really good at that part. I’ve had one relationship that turned into marriage and divorce before six months were up. And it was entirely my fault.”
“Was it? Or did other people convince you it was?”
That hit me like a sharp blade to the gut. “Ferris, trust me. I wasn’t loved much, and it was entirely my doing.” My ex and I had parted on bad terms, and he was angry when it was over, but I hadn’t been a good husband. I hadn’t known how back then.
I was too busy being married to hockey to love him the way he deserved.
“I do trust you,” Ferris said quietly, cutting into my thoughts.
“That’s why I’m here. You were one of the only people who didn’t look at me like I was a total weirdo who didn’t belong the day on set.
You made me feel safe. So that’s why I think what you said is bullshit.
It’s not you. Anyone who ever said that is a liar. ”
I had no idea what to do with those words. He was wrong, but…maybe he was also partly right. “You’re sweet.”
“I’m not. I’m a douchebag frat boy.”
I laughed again and swayed a little closer, and he met me halfway. Somehow, our bodies had twisted, and with a single move, he could shift his leg and straddle me. I could see the temptation in his eyes, and I could feel it coursing through my veins.
“You’re a lot of things, but douchebag isn’t one of them.”
He looked down at our hands, which…oh. We were holding hands. His squeezed around mine, and I was suddenly terrified that he was going to say something to break the spell, like ask me if this was really what I wanted.
I didn’t know if I would lie and say no.
If I would tell the truth and say yes, god yes.
Or maybe I would bare my soul and say that yes, I wanted him more than anything, but that made me feel like a monster because I ruined everything I touched.
“Do you think anyone will ever love me?”
That was not the question I was expecting. “I think, once the people you hang around with are older than twenty and have removed their heads from deep inside their sphincters, they’re going to realize what a treasure you are.”
He stared, then laughed. “That’s not the way it works for guys like me.”
“It is. There just might be a lot of lonely, frustrating years before it happens. But I can’t imagine a world where someone like you isn’t loved.”
“Is it…is it wrong if I just focus on one thing? On hockey? Until I know I can love someone too?”
I squeezed his hands hard. “No. It’s not wrong. But you should know there won’t ever be a perfect time. You’ll never know if you’re until you try. You don’t want to end up like me, Ferris.”
He frowned. “Gorgeous? Kind? Easy to talk to?”
My throat felt tight. Had anyone ever used those words to describe me? Even once? Even as a lie? “I’m bitter and washed-up, and I spent too many years waiting for that perfect moment. It never came, and now look at me.”
He laughed again. “Yeah. Stuck in some hotel room with me.”
“Not what I meant. This has been the best day I’ve had in a long time, and we’ve only been together what? An hour?”
Swallowing thickly, he frowned like he was solving some kind of secret to the universe. Then he cleared his throat and gave a stiff nod. “You…would you like to have sex with me?”
He just really put it all out there like that, didn’t he? Blunt and to the point without hesitation. “Do you want to have sex with me?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t, and I think you know that. I’m taking a big risk here, so.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and that’s when I broke.
I seized his wrists and tugged until he understood what I was saying. He was practically boneless as he slid his thighs across mine and straddled me. He was a goalie—his flexibility was out of this world, and the way his knees tipped apart in an almost perfect split was…fuck. It was gorgeous.
This wasn’t my first time with a hockey player. Before anyone in the league was out, we used to give each other the nod, the heated gaze, then find each other in hotel rooms late at night when no one was looking.
But this was the first time I was holding a man on my lap who made me feel…shit, there weren’t even words for it. Alive would be the only way I could truly describe it. It felt like my heart was beating for the first time in years—since I’d last set my skates on NHL ice.
My lungs were full now, and I leaned in, taking a deep inhale of his scent. He smelled a little like weed smoke and a lot like some cheap-ass commissary soap that they had in tiny bottles on campus.
It was fucking glorious.
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
I took his chin between my fingers, tipped his face up, and met his gaze. He held it as long as he could before his eyes darted back down to my lips. But I had his attention. I could feel it like a second heartbeat.
“Yes, I want to have sex with you. I’d like to give you anything you want, Ferris.”
“I want sex,” he said with a tiny chuckle, then stopped and hesitated. “Um. Can I…can I top?”
“Anything you want,” I repeated. The thought of having him deep inside me was…Christ. My dick kicked in my boxers, and I squirmed. “Just be careful of my knee.”
He looked back into my eyes, and with sincerity I rarely heard from other people, he nearly echoed my words back to me. “Anything you need.”