Page 34 of Mac Meyers Needs Me

She smiles up at me and links her fingers behind my neck. “Tonight’s been fun. It was like one of your parties, but formal, without the drinking games.”

I laugh. “Those are always Gage’s idea.”

“I know.” She giggles. “This kind of reminds me of prom, but hockey-themed.”

“Did you go to yours?” A hot spike of jealousy shoots down my spine at the thought of her in some other guy’s arms.

“Yeah. But I went with a group of friends and no date. What about you?” she replies.

I should not be relieved by her admission. “I went with a date. We were just friends though.” Sort of the story of my life. “Why didn’t you go with someone?”

“It was my first year in Toronto, new school, it felt easier to go with my friends than have the pressure of a prom date. There are so many stupid stereotypes about what’s supposed to happen, you know? I had enough going on and I didn’t want or need that at the time.”

“I get that.” Probably more than she can know.

The song changes and the tempo picks up.

Fee steps out of my arms. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“I could do the same. I’ll walk you.”

We leave the dance floor and follow the signs to the bathrooms. When I’m done, I wait for Fee in the hall. She appears a minute later. “You want to get out of here?”

Her eyes light up. “Irish goodbye?”

I shrug. “If we go back in there, we’ll get sucked into another hockey conversation, and you’ll be bored.”

“Hockey doesn’t bore me.”

“Yeah, but you’re subjected to enough of it. Let’s get out of here.”

We stop at the coat check, and I help Fee into her winter jacket. She swaps out her heels for winter boots.

“I can call an Uber if you want?”

“Nah, we’re a ten-minute walk from my building and it’ll probably take that long for one to get here.”

We bundle up and step out into the cold winter night. The walk back to her apartment is short, and I don’t have enough time to shore up the courage to hold her hand, plus we’re both trying to keep our extremities warm in the February cold. We pass other students as I walk her to the elevator, some of them on their way out, others on their way to bed or the common room.

The elevator isn’t empty on the way up, but the hall is when we reach her apartment. It’s decorated with art. It reminds me of something I’ve seen before, but maybe it’s inspired by another artist.

“Thanks for making tonight fun,” Fee says softly.

“It was nice to go with someone I like,” I admit.

“Well, I hope you like me. I am your girlfriend and all,” she says cheekily.

I swallow down my anxiety and decide now is a good time to tell her I like her. “You’re incredible, Fee.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes warm. “So are you.”

Fee’s eyes dart to my mouth. Maybe I wasn’t wrong about her wanting me to kiss her the other night. But I didn’t act fast enough and made it awkward. I could fix that now. I swallow down my nerves and cup her cheek in my hand. Her skin is so soft and warm under my touch.

Fee’s eyes flare in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she licks her lips and tips her head up. “Mac?”

I don’t think, I just act. I dip down and brush my lips over hers. Fireworks explode in my brain at the simple, gentle contact. Fee exhales a quiet gasp, and her fingers close around the lapel of my coat, fisting the fabric to keep me close. So I kiss her again.

This time she whimpers, and that one pretty sound shatters my frayed restraint. I slant my mouth over hers, desperate to taste more of her. She parts for me, hand curving around the back of my neck, the other still fisting my jacket. Our tongues slide against each other, and I groan into her mouth. I want more of this, of her, of the taste of watermelon gum and her velvet tongue tangling with mine.