“You have one hand.”
She chuckles.
We practice for a while. She’s actually getting the hang of it. Her movements become more confident and less hesitant.
“Can I try on my own?” she asks.
I step back and give her space.
She tries. The stick is awkward in her one-handed grip but she manages to move the ball a few feet.
“I did it!” She turns around, grinning.
And suddenly we’re inches apart.
Her smile fades. Her eyes drop to my mouth.
“Zeff?” she whispers.
“Yeah?” I ask, observing her this close. She has a cute freckle on her cheek.
“Can I kiss you?”
My heart pounds. “Yeah. Yes.”
She leans up. And I close my eyes as I lean down.
Our lips meet.
Her lips are soft and taste sweet like coffee. I kiss her gently, running my hands down her back, gently playing with her hair.
Then she makes a small sound in the back of her throat and everything changes.
I cup her face with both hands and deepen the kiss. She drops the hockey stick and wraps her good arm around my neck.
The kiss intensifies quickly. Too quickly. We’re both breathing hard. My hands are roaming, hungry.
“Inside,” I manage to say between kisses. “It’s cold out here.”
We stumble through the door into the house. We barely break apart long enough to close it behind us.
We end up on the couch. She’s in my lap. My hands are in her hair, on her waist, everywhere I can reach without hurting her arm.
She kisses like she’s starving for it.
And I’m giving her everything she wants.
My hands slide under her shirt. I feel the soft skin of her back, and she arches into me.
Then reality crashes down.
This is crossing a line. Jax and Callum are pissed I stayed behind. Neither of them wanted this to happen. And we haven’t established any kind of agreement.
I pull back. “Wait.”
She’s breathing hard. “Why?”
“Because—”
