I think. I don’t know. He did text me earlier.
Ha! Mom and Dad would be so proud of your remarkable ability to make bad decisions.
Andi:
Ugh. I know. Please don’t tell Mom. You know she hates him.
Andi:
Speaking of making bad decisions…how are you feeling about Everett being at the game?
Andi:
Godddd I saw him on TV the other day and HOLY SHIT I think he got hotter since you were fucking him.
Everett is in the past. I don’t care that he’ll be there. You know I’m with Raph.
Andi:
Raph’s a nice guy. I think you’d like him if you got to know him.
Andi:
He’s a notorious playboy. Do you know how many pictures with random chicks there are online?
I let out a loud groan and sink further into the backseat of the cab. Raph is fine. He’s gone a lot with hockey, and I’m busy with dance. We have our separate lives, and it feels like it’s working, but we’ve only been together for a few months. Sometimes I wonderwhat it would feel like to have a partner. Someone who I could support but would also support me in return. What it would feel like to hearI love youand be able to say it back.
Swiping out of my sister’s texts, I click on the internet icon and type the name of the man who has been on my mind since I agreed to come to the game—Everett Nuttall—into the search bar. I’m not sure why I’m doing this to myself. Maybe it’s curiosity, or maybe it’s something else.
Link after link pops up on the screen, and because I can’t help myself, I click on photos.
Among the mix of action shots, there is a photo of Everett at a post-game press conference. His dark hair is longer than it was the last time I saw him and sticks out under a backwards ballcap. His jawline is shadowed by dark stubble, and above his lip sits a mustache that I definitely don’t hate. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that accentuates his arms. A panty-melting grin covers his face. It’s clear the four and a half years we’ve been apart did him good. He’s practically aging backwards.
Fuck me.
My mind betrays me with thoughts of how he worked my body all those years ago, always knowing exactly what I needed and never afraid to take what he wanted. Sex with Everett was the hottest I’ve ever had. There was nothing vanilla about it. Pierced and huge, his dick used to take me to places I didn’t know existed, but then he left, and sadly all men aren’t as talented as he was in that department.
“Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to sleep with him just one more time.” The words come out mumbled, butoutnonetheless.
“What was that?” Stella says.
My face heats, and I massage my temples. I should be thinking about sleeping with the guy I’m currently seeing, not the guy who was never more than a mood booster on a shitty day. Locking my phone, I stuff it back into my purse, groaning again.
“Sorry, um, nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Didn’t sound like nothing,” she muses.
I blow out a long breath. I’m not actually going to tell this stranger what I’m thinking. I can’t believe I actually said that out loud.
“It was nothing. I’m just tired.”
She hums and begins to dig in a small fabric bagsitting on the passenger seat. “Here,” she says, handing me a smooth, ocean blue stone.
“What’s this?”
“Consider it my Christmas gift to you. I think it matches your eyes.”
“Thank you,” I say, rubbing the smooth surface between my finger tips. My shoulders begin to relax, and an ease settles over me. “But why are you giving me a gift? You don’t even know me. Also how do you know it matches my?—”
