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I can keep my feelings at bay like a responsible adult. I don’t need to shut down and push away someone I like and care about just to control myself.
I steal a glance at Rhys who’s talking to Maddie. It’s hard to miss the spark of longing in his eyes when he looks at her, but he still treats her like a good friend. He’s able to restrain his feelings because of his friendship with Lane.
That’s what I need to do. Treat Summer like a good friend. Restrain my own feelings, because one fact still hasn’t changed: I need every bit of my mind, body, and heart focused on hockey, and I can’t risk letting a real relationship distract me.
As we settle into conversation, catching up on the last two weeks of our lives, I can’t believe how much I missed this. Just talking with her.
Things have been hectic for both of us. This Friday is the opening game of the regular hockey season, with us hopping over to upstate New York for an away game. Saturday is an even bigger day for Summer—it’s finally the day of the Mozart competition she’s been rehearsing her ass off for, in NYC.
She mentions a Statistics class that’s been the bane of her existence lately, and I perk up.
“Statistics? I took that class back in Boston. Did great in it. I can tutor you if you want?”
She gasps excitedly. “Really?”
I nod, feeling my lips curl. There’s no feeling in the world like making Summer excited. “I’ll come by your place Thursday.”
Then she says three words that make my heart fucking leap. “It’s a date.”
28
HUDSON
Aflash of lightning turns every window in the house stark white, and a second later a monstrous thunderclap vibrates the walls.
It was already raining hard enough that we could hear the raindrops pelting the roof of Summer’s house where I’m helping her study for her Statistics class, but the sky must have split open, because now it’s coming down so hard and fast it sounds more like machine-gun fire.
I push up from the chair and walk to the nearest window to look out. The rain is coming down so hard it’s sloshing against the windowpanes. Through the rain-coated window everything looks blurry, like a low-resolution picture, but I can spot a big tree branch careening through the air like a plastic bag.
Summer lets out a gasp. I turn to see her looking at her phone. “Olivia says there’s a tree down blocking Cranberry Street,” she says. Olivia’s over at a friend’s house studying for a class of hers, too. Then Summer gasps louder. “And she says there’s just been a car accident at the intersection outside Mariah’s house.”
“Shit,” I grumble, thinking about driving home.
Summer must have read my mind. “You should stay over.”
It’s a good thing I’m still turned away from her, looking out the window, because my cock stirs behind my zipper at just the thought of staying at Summer’s overnight.
The image of Summer’s bedroom flashes in my mind. The image of Summer’s bed. But the picture of it in my mind isn’t one of it neatly made with a blanket folded over it like it’s been every time I’ve visited Salsa in there. This time, the sheets are a chaotic mess, because we’re tangled in them, a mass of entwined arms and legs wrapped up in the soft, pale blue cotton, and I’m …
“It’s going to be like this all night.” Summer’s voice pulls me from the fantasy. A good thing, because a glance down reveals that my cock is a pulsing outline against my jeans.
“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I let you drive home in this?” Summer continues, a good-humored nudge in her voice. “People would get suspicious.”
On cue, three loud car horns blare through the air, accompanied by a distant sound of skidding tires. It’s bad out there, alright.
“You’re right,” I say, taking my seat next to Summer. “I shouldn’t go out in this.”
Summer’s still reading her phone. “Olivia’s staying at Mariah’s tonight, too.”
My core tightens. Sitting next to Summer, just the two of us, has been tense all night. Letting my gaze linger on her, breathing in her scent, feeling the warmth radiating from her body. But the knowledge that Olivia could walk through the front door at any moment kept my thoughts from getting too out of hand.
Now? Knowing that we’re going to be alone here all night? Thoughts I shouldn’t be having are sneaking into my mind.
Like dropping to my knees and eating Summer out under this table.
My lips tingle with the memory of how her mouth tastes. What would her slick arousal taste like? Probably good enough that I’d be jerking off to memories of it for the rest of my life.
My balls ache at the thought. I chase it away, but I know it’s just a matter of time before it comes back.
