Josie Mills is a precocious and straitlaced young woman who is pursuing a career in architecture. The field is very difficult to get a foot into and Josie has been working nonstop to make her dream come true. She's so focused on her slowly growing c...
Despite the fact that we're in an ice rink, after Ben throws off his helmet he lifts his water bottle over his face and dumps the cold liquid all down his face. When he drops it, his body drops with it, collapsing in a dramatic heap on the ground in front of the players' bench.
"That's what you get for drinking too much last night, Benji!" the coach laughs, smirking as he steps over the limp man.
This practice had been the most brutal one of the season, both because of the team's collective hangover and because I'd been doing everything I could to avoid Ben like the plague. Every time he skated over to chat, or every time we were supposed to skirmish together, I'd found ways to escape him.
Unfortunately for me, the hockey center appears to have taken notice.
He pushes himself up onto his palms, gesturing me back over with his chin. I glance around, trying to find any reason to not hang out with him, and when I find none, I begrudgingly plop down at his side to sip from my own water jug.
"I don't remember much from last night," Ben remarks with a laugh, "but I woke up with salsa stains all down my shirt. Since when does that club even have food?"
"They don't," Max shouts from farther down the ice with a laugh.
Ben shakes his head, then sidles a little closer to me.
"You alright, Luke? You've been all up in your head the whole practice. I don't think you blocked one shot. You almost took a puck right to the face. I thought I was going to be the weak link today, but you were totally worthless out there."
He grins, hoping to playfully rib me into a reaction, but I can hardly look at the guy. Every time I do, I just feel more and more guilt ridden.
Regardless of their close age, Ben looks at Josie more like a daughter than a sister, and I was the one who'd done naughty, naughty things to her all night long... naughty and delicious and spinetingling. Lustful hairs lift off the back of my neck.
I'd never had to keep a secret from Ben before. Just how long could I keep something as massive as this hidden from him?
At least Josie is so busy with work that I won't have to worry about running into her. If I did, I don't know that I could just turn and walk the other way. I don't know what it is about her, but she draws me in like a moth to a flame.
I suppose it's best that Ben's memories of last night are fleeting at best. That means there'll be less questions about where I was the entire party.
"Hey," he says, tossing aside his empty water bottle. His hair is flat against his head and he tugs off his gloves to run his fingers through it, "is the reason you're all weird today because of the girl?"
"Girl?" I yelp, instantly grimacing at the distinct lack of manliness to the tone.
Great, that wasn't suspicious at all.
Ben laughs heartily, stealing my water bottle to drink from now.
"I heard from some people at the club that you left with a girl."
"Who told you?" I ask instantly, glancing towards some of our other teammates, but Ben shakes his head.
"None of these guys, but you know how people talk. How was she? Was she any good?" he wiggles his eyebrows and I feel suddenly sick to my stomach.
"I, uh, I don't remember," I mumble weakly.
Ben rolls his eyes, "I guess that means it wasn't just me who had a little too much juice last night, if you know what I mean."
"Juice?" I echo, arching an eyebrow.
"Isn't that what the cool kids are calling alcohol these days?" he murmurs distractedly before shaking his head. "I am not letting you change the subject here, Luke. You never take girls back to your room. What happened? She must've been something. Was she smoking hot or what?"
"She was," I answer honestly, eyes going glassy before I can help it.
This morning, before the metaphorical shit had hit the symbolic fan, Josie had looked so beautiful sleeping in my bed.
I could've sat there forever just watching her chest slowly rise and fall, listening to the faint noises she made. I'd always thought that was so weird, how people would talk about watching someone else sleep, but with her... I totally get it. It was like looking at a masterpiece of a painting, an art piece that could captivate me for hours.
Ben abruptly snaps his fingers in front of my eyes, jerking me roughly from my reverie.
"That answers my question," Ben smirks, "I've got to meet this girl. You look like you're on cloud nine."
He looks away and I'm grateful that he won't notice how pale my face is getting the longer this conversation continues.
"Ah, too bad. It was a one time thing."
"What? Why?" Ben starts to ask, but the coach has headed back out onto the ice and everyone glances over.
"Who wants to take the jerseys to the dry cleaner before the big game this weekend?" he asks, not exactly expecting a mass of volunteers.
Fortunately for him, I'm desperate to avoid a conversation with my best friend about my night spent with his little sister.
"I will, coach!" I shout, springing to my feet and rushing over to him to take the box.
"Well, I mean, it doesn't have to be right now," he says uncertainly, but I'm already well on my way out the door.
The entire way over to the dry cleaner, all I can think about is Josie.
But I have to clear my head. I have to forget her. I will never again feel her fingers run down my back or hear her passionate sigh, or see a faint smile meant just for me...
Something abruptly collides with me as I turn a sharp corner in front of the dry cleaner, sending both of us flying backwards.
"Damn!" I wince, tossing aside the box to lean down and help the person I'd collided with, "I am so... Josie..."
Ben's little sister stares up at me from where she's splayed out on the sidewalk and covered with the grimy hockey jerseys that have spilled from the box.
Dammit... so much for forgetting her.
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