12. Winnie
“Reese?” I repeat when he doesn’t answer me the first time. “What is this?”
“What does it look like, Win? It’s a photo.”
“Why—How? Why do you have this in your wallet? How did you even get it?” I have never, ever seen such a horrendous photo of me. Even with the faded quality of the Polaroid, there’s no denying it’s the worst. Granted, I was thirteen and had just gotten all four wisdom teeth out, but still. Mouth hung open, cheeks swollen beyond belief, and that stupid wrap around my head. It even looks like Reese’s shirt is wet with my drool.
He looks cute, at least. His sandy-brown hair is shaggy and plastered to his forehead from his backward cap pushing it down. His smile is wide, and blue braces stick to each tooth. I can’t deny this is a cute photo, even if I look awful. I just don’t understand why he has it in his wallet, and judging by the prominent folds in it, I would say it’s been here a while. Like since it was taken.
Why does he make it so hard to hate him?
“Your mom took it,” he tells me. “She told me to keep it somewhere you wouldn’t see. I thought my wallet was a safe place, and it was. Until now.”
I can’t pull my eyes away from the image. It’s a terrible angle, but it’s not the photo itself that is making my heart beat a little faster and goosebumps erupt across my body. It’s the fact he kept it this entire time.
I head for Sawyer’s truck, but I don’t get in. Reese stops behind me, not touching me, but he might as well be for the nerves bouncing around inside me right now.
“I can’t believe you haven’t gotten a new wallet in nine years.”
“I have.”
I pause, looking over my shoulder. Reese pinches at the back of his neck. A boyish, almost nervous grin tugging on his full lips.
“What?”
“I have,” he repeats. “Like three times. I just put it back every time.”
Damn it all. Damn him. I turn, and he drops his arm. His face is indifferent, and when I step closer, he stiffens.
I tried to be strong and stay away. I really did.
“I really hate you for not letting me hate you.”
His grin is back, and before he can say something cocky, I throw myself at him. He grabs my face and pulls our lips together. The moment they meet, I throw everything to the wind. His lips are soft but demanding. And he kisses me like he can’t get enough, which is exactly how I feel. I crawl up his body, and he lifts me with ease and pushes me against the bed of the truck.
“Fuck, Winnie.”
Fuck indeed. If we weren’t in public right now, and I didn’t want to end up in jail, I think I would fuck him. And that’s scary.
Ignoring the red flags blaring in the distance, I wrap my arms around his neck, making sure not to knock off his backward cap, and press myself into his hard body.
His tongue dives into my mouth, battling with mine until I give in and let him do whatever he wants with me. The air is cold, but my body is on fire.
Reese pulls away but keeps our heads together. Our heavy breaths creating a fog between us. “How drunk are you right now?”
“Drunk enough to want to fuck you in this street. Not drunk enough to not remember this in the morning.”
He groans and leans back in, murmuring, “that’s the perfect amount,” against my lips.
Slipping his hand between us, he tugs his sweatshirt up enough to tease the top of my jeans, but he doesn’t get any further. “Fuck, why are you wearing a belt, Win?”
“So I couldn’t be pantsed tonight.” I pull away and scowl, but it’s not easy when all I want to do is kiss him again.
“Smart girl. But now you want to be pantsed, and I can’t.”
I unwrap my legs and drop back to the ground. “Speaking of… I saw the post.”
His eyebrows knit with confusion. “What post?”
“On EU Student News. Laney showed me. Emma mentioned they also have a newspaper, but I didn’t see those.”
Realization hits, and a cycle of surprise, anger, guilt, and back to anger flicks across his handsome face. “Fuck, I forgot they post online. Shit. I’m sorry, Win. I’m sure you could press charges for posting your nude ass without your permission.”
“Reese.” I grab him, noticing him starting to spiral. “It’s fine. A new post goes up Sunday, and me and my ass will be forgotten.”
“I highly doubt that. But let’s get home, I’m fucking freezing.”
Oh, shit. I totally forgot he gave me his sweatshirt. I go to pull it off, but he grips my arms. “Don’t even think of taking that off—or giving it back. I want you to keep it.” He drops his hand into mine and drags me around the side of the truck.
“Reese, I have a million sweatshirts. I don’t need—”
The cold metal bites through my layers as Reese pins me against the truck door. The heat burning from his body is quick to balance it, though.
“You don’t have any of mine, Win.”
Well, that’s not true, but he probably doesn’t remember all the ones he used to lend me and I never gave back. I know of at least four of Reese’s sweatshirts hanging in my closet right now and another two at home under my bed.
“And besides”—he tugs open the door and helps me up, which he doesn’t need to do since there’s only a small lift on Sawyer’s truck, but I think it’s an excuse to touch my ass—“you’ll need something to wear to my games.”
He shuts the door in my face, not giving me a chance to reply. Not that I know what I would say anyway. I don’t know what we are right now, and I hadn’t thought about going to his games at all. Okay, that’s not exactly true, but I figured if I wanted to go, I would sit in the back so there wouldn’t be a chance of him seeing me. Eli and Reese’s hockey games used to be my favorite things to go see. I never cared that they were every weekend and always looked forward to going. I haven’t been to a game since before my dad died, and I would love to see him play again, but if I go, especially if I wear a sweatshirt with his name and number on the back, what is that going to tell him?
What is that going to tell me?
Reese helps me out and tucks me into his side. I don’t know if it’s for his pleasure or if he’s using me for heat, but I don’t mind either way. Tonight, I’m not going to think too hard about anything. I’m going to enjoy what’s left of the night and deal with all the regret, guilt, and whatever else comes tomorrow when I wake.
Sawyer, Emma, and Laney all move in close to me until I’m surrounded entirely.
“Uh, guys, I know it’s cold, but the door is right there.”
“Shh,” Reese mutters and quickly drops a kiss to the top of my head before tugging his hood over my face.
“Hey, Mark,” Reese chimes, but he has such a tight hold on me that I can’t even see who Mark is.
“Good evening, kids. Have a good night?”
Emma and Laney groan some kind of answer, and the man laughs.
“Oh, to be young again.”
“Have a good one,” Sawyer calls next.
The elevator dings, and Reese pulls me inside.
“The five of you have a good night, too.”
Reese’s arms relax. He and Sawyer chuckle, and I’m able to finally see the security guard grinning at us. He offers a wave, and I give one back before the doors close.
“We’re not meant to bring people who don’t live here in after midnight,” Sawyer answers my unasked questions.
“I can go home?” I offer, even though I really don’t want to, but it might be the smart thing to do before I do more than kiss Reese. “Catch an Uber or something.”
Sawyer shoots a look at Reese, and he frowns.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
Reese moves forward, crowding me against the steel elevator wall. “The only trouble I’m planning on getting into anytime soon is you, baby.”
“Awe, you guys are cute,” Emma says.
Reese and I reply at the same time.
“Not cute.”
“Extremely cute.”
Reese’s hand cradles my back during the walk from the elevator to the apartment. Apparently, it was Sawyer’s apartment I was in the other night. Reese sets me on the couch and promises to be back in a second before disappearing across the hall. I don’t know why he didn’t bring me to his place. Maybe he’s trying not to pressure me? Unfortunately, I think the low tingle in my belly is disappointment. Do I want him to pressure me? Maybe. It wouldn’t be pressure if I wanted it, though, would it? I sort of wish someone could make decisions for me. Tell me yes, sleep with Reese. That’s a great idea. Or ask, are you completely stupid? Do you want your heart broken again?
Ugh.
I’m still too drunk for this decision, even if I don’t feel very drunk anymore.
The couch bounces, and when I open my eyes, I meet the green orbs of a stranger.
“Uh, hi?”
“So you’re the ass.”
“Excuse me?”
“On the newspaper.”
Oh. Right. Okay, there is one point for not sleeping with Reese. If I’m permanently known around campus as “the ass,” I’m going to kill him. “Well, I prefer Winnie, but yeah, that was me.”
He dips his chin casually. “Nice ass.”
“Er, thanks…”
Sawyer falls on the opposite side of me, breathless. Emma and Laney must have drank more than me for how exhausted he seems right now. However, I think they have the right idea about going to bed. Where the hell is Reese? And where the hell am I sleeping? In his bed? Or did he put me on the couch as a way to say this was my bed for the night? Maybe he’s getting blankets. Hopefully a sheet, too, because this is a boy’s apartment, and I’m not about to lay my face on a couch that looks like it’s been through hell and back. Sitting, okay. Sleeping without a sheet? No, thank you.
“Leave her alone, Boog. Reese catches you complimenting his girl’s ass, and he’s going to release The Rapture on you.”
He called me “his girl,” like as in Reese’s girl. Neither of the guys seem surprised I’m here, and I saw the hint of a smile on Sawyer’s face after we climbed into the truck after kissing. Reese must have been talking about me. Okay, one point pro-sex.
This is going to be difficult.
“What’s The Rapture?” I ask, hoping changing the subject from my ass and the whole his girl comment will help clear my head. And calm down my beating heart.
Sawyer cocks an eyebrow, and the guy whose name I still don’t know whistles a low sound. “You’re in for a treat, eh, Saw? What you say we crack on some old film?”
But Sawyer’s too busy looking at his phone to reply. Not that I am trying to snoop, but I can’t help but look to see who he is texting at this hour.
Larsy: I need you to distract her for a few minutes.
Her? Me? It’s obvious Reese is texting him. I’ve heard him be called Larsy by hockey friends before. What I don’t get is why Reese is asking Sawyer to distract me. My head swims with the different possibilities of why he would need me distracted. What is he doing over there? Maybe it’s something as simple as showering, or maybe he’s trying to clean his room, but Reese was always a clean guy, so unless that has changed, it doesn’t really make sense.
“Yeah.” Sawyer drops his phone to his lap after typing out a reply I didn’t see. “Let’s show her TheRapture.”
Apparently, “The Rapture” is Reese destroying guys on the ice. I remember him always being more aggressive than others, but this is a whole new level than what I’m used to seeing. He’s throwing guys around like they weigh nothing and ramming into them at full force, and it’s so… hot.
The way he uses his powerful body against his opponents for one goal and one goal alone is like foreplay. I wish he would throw me around like that. Okay, maybe not exactly like that, but if he can rock two-hundred-pound men, surely he could toss me around a little. He held me like I weighed nothing when we were kissing, but I didn’t even realize it. Seeing this, I have a whole new respect for his beautiful body.
The guys ooh and aah and make their comments about different parts of the game, but I can hardly pull my eyes away from Reese long enough to notice what else is happening. Despite the aggression, he’s so graceful. He makes skating look easy, and I know it’s not. He and Eli used to drag me to the local pond every winter, so I know how to skate. I’m just not very good, and considering it’s been years since I’ve touched ice at all, I’m guessing I’m even worse than I remember.
By the time Reese walks through the door, I’m shifting in my seat, the need for Reese between my thighs getting worse each passing second. To feel him touch me, hold me, and hopefully toss me around.
He’s breathing hard, but he zeros in on me and tilts his head. “What’s wrong? Your face is flushed.”
Shut up, Reese! “Uh…”
The couch shakes as the guys next to me chuckle. “The effect of The Rapture,” Sawyer comments, a hint of knowing in his voice.
Reese continues across the room, eyeing me curiously. His gaze snaps to the TV, and the biggest grin stretches across his face. And just like I wanted, he lifts me, takes my seat, and sets me on his lap like I weigh nothing. I think if he offered to carry me everywhere for the rest of my life, it would be extremely difficult to say no.
We watch in complete silence for a few more minutes, and my squirming only gets worse feeling his hard dick under my ass.
Reese and I have had sex, but I didn’t pay attention to his dick size when we did because I was so nervous. I honestly don’t remember a lot of it because I was so wrapped up in thinking “is this really happening” the entire time. But the rod under my ass is huge. I have no clue how it ever fit in my body—or how it’s going to again.
Reese pulls me against his chest and drops his hand to the inside of my thigh while kissing the base of my ear. “If you keep squirming, I’m going to give you something to really squirm about.”
I’m certainly willing to try.