“Good,” he breathes, and suddenly, our lips crash together, igniting a spark that sets everything ablaze. The kiss is tentative at first—an exploration of this new connection—our mouths moving together in rhythm, a slow, delicious unfolding that captures everything we’ve been dancing around.
But it quickly escalates, fueled by desire that courses between us like wildfire, crackling in the air and leaving my heart racing. Our hands instinctively roam—his fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me deeper, while my palms trace along his muscular back, the warmth beneath his shirt setting every part of me aflame.
We lose ourselves in the kiss, the world outside dissolving into a haze of longing and urgency. With each brush of our lips, I feel the chaos of our previous encounters slip away, replaced by a new vulnerability—a raw need that opens me up, an invitation to explore the depths of this connection.
The kiss intensifies, and with each exploration of our mouths, a torrent of emotions flows through me—an exhilarating blend of thrill and fear.
As we finally pull apart, breathless, I can barely process what just happened—the implications looming in the air around us, thick with anticipation. I search Leo’s eyes.
“What does this mean for us?” I ask, my heart pounding against my ribcage, every ounce of vulnerability pouring into my words. I can see the same questions reflected in Leo’s gaze.
He reaches for my hand, intertwining our fingers once more.
“I don’t know yet,” he replies softly, sincerity etched across his features.
“Tell me something about yourself,” I offer.
I realized earlier that I hardly know anything about Leo. At first, I wanted to keep it that way, but now, I want to know who he really is.
“What do you want to know?” he asks. “My life has played out pretty publicly.”
“Where are you from?” I begin.
He laughs, but there isn’t humor. “I grew up in New York. My mom was young when she had me and lost custody of me when I was ten—never met my dad. I bounced around in foster homes. Some were good, some weren’t. I started playing hockey in middle school. At the time, my foster parents thought it would be good for me. I fell in love with the sport, and along the way I had coaches who believed in me. I went pro right out of high school.”
“Wow, I didn’t realize all of that. I mean, I knew you went pro after high school, but not the foster care part,” I admit.
“It’s ok. What about you?” He turns it to me.
I tell him about my parents, who are kind but conservative. I share about my older brother, an accountant with two kids. We aren’t close because he is 10 years older than me. I explain how Talia is the closest thing I have to a sister and best friend. We spend the next hour sharing about our lives.
It’s unexpected, but nice.
Chapter 10
Leo
“We barely scraped by in that game. Tonight, you guys have a curfew,” Coach roars out.
We sit in the locker room, sweaty and tired. We won the game, but only by one goal.
“You can go to dinner and then to your hotel rooms by nine,” he states, before leaving us.
We all grumble as we head to the showers.
“Damn, first assigned seats on the bus rides. Then he assigns us roommates for our hotel rooms, and now we have a curfew. Are we high schoolers or pro athletes?” Sean yells.
I can feel the anger rising, but there’s no use giving in. We need to be level-headed, and sometimes being forced into submission by your coach is the way to get there.
We all leave the arena, groveling as the sun sets in the evening sky. There’s a burger joint just around the corner, and as a team, we head there. We order food, eat, and then start walking back to the hotel.
“Hey, who wants ice cream?” Marcus calls out.
Everyone stops walking and gawks at him. “Are you serious?” I ask.
“Look, homemade ice cream,” Marcus says, pointing to a small ice cream shop.
“I guess if we are being treated like kids, we might as well embrace it,” Nash laughs.
