Page 65 of Broken As Puck

At least, not yet.

I wasn’t about to dismiss the possibility completely. Perhaps we could get to that point, but we weren’t there now.

“I don’t know.” I bit my lip. “I’m sorry.”

He inclined his head, as if he’d expected this. “There’s no rush.” He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across my lips. It was soft and undemanding. Utterly lovely. “Whatever happens will go at your pace.”

With that, he picked up his duffel bag, held it strategically over his crotch, and opened the door. He peered out, checked left and right, and then wandered out as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, I seemed to be made of nothing but worries.

I looked outside, checked that no one was paying attention to me, and walked around the edge of the rink toward the front entrance. If they’d had free rein, my legs would have carried me out of there at a run, but I was glad I’d retained at least a modicum of sense. If I sprinted for the exit, people would know that something had happened and they’d wonder what.

Once outside, I got into my car, locked the doors, and flopped against the headrest, finally allowing myself a moment to think and process all that had happened.

It had started with that goddamn hair.

I’d seen how wholeheartedly he’d embraced the cause and then how generous he’d been in donating his time for the auction and I’d needed to thank him. I had no idea what had possessed me to kiss him on the cheek when I’d only expressed gratitude to the other players who’d participated with words and a smile, but for some reason, it felt necessary.

The kiss had flooded me with memories. For years, casual affection had been common between Matt and me, and the feel of his stubbled cheek under my lips had made me yearn for more. When he’d asked to kiss me, I hadn’t been able to resist, but I’d never expected him to go down on me in the physiotherapist’s examination room.

I pressed my fingertips to my burning face. There was no taking this back now. I might have been able to ignore a simple kiss on the cheek. Perhaps even a relatively chaste kiss on the lips. But this?

There would be no pretending it didn’t happen.

My insides were all mixed up as I started the engine and drove home. I took it slowly, worried that I might miss an important traffic signal in my distraction, and was grateful when I arrived at my apartment in one piece.

After parking in the basement, I ordered sushi from my favorite place as I walked up to our apartment. When I entered, it was already warm and toasty, the heat having kicked on automatically an hour or so ago.

I considered throwing myself onto the sofa, but there was an edginess beneath my skin that I couldn’t dispel. Wondering if it might be the tight-fitting jeans, I changed into a pair of yoga pants and pulled a comfy sweater over my head, but it didn’t get rid of the agitation.

I grabbed my laptop and tried to distract myself by editing photos I’d taken over the past few months but hadn’t got around to looking at yet. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door and the sushi was delivered. As I unpacked it on the kitchen counter, I heard the door open.

“I’m home,” Layla called, strolling in with her purse in one hand and her phone in the other. She set her purse down on the counter and grinned as she spotted the sushi. “I hope you ordered enough for me too.”

“Of course. As if I’d get some for me and not for you.” Takeout was always better when shared with a friend. “I may have done something stupid.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, let’s sit down with the food and you can tell me all about it.”

I served myself a dragon roll and added the rice and chicken teriyaki dish that Layla preferred to a plate, along with a pair of chopsticks. She insisted we use them even though neither of us was very adept.

We sat at the small, rectangular dining table and I poured each of us a glass of white wine to accompany the meal.

“So, what’d you do?” she asked.

I grimaced and bit into a piece of the roll, enjoying savory sauces and the spiciness of the chicken in the center. “Um, so. I might have kinda, sorta, had sex with Matt.”

Layla’s chopsticks clattered as she dropped them. “Excuse me, what?” She turned her ear toward me. “I can’t have heard that right, can I?”

I ducked my head and used my chopsticks to finish that piece of dragon roll. “I went to thank him for his help with the fundraiser, and when I did, I kissed his cheek, and then he kissed me, and then the next thing I knew, my pants were around my ankles.”

Layla arched an eyebrow. “You went all the way? At the stadium? I didn’t know you were that wild!”

I laughed awkwardly and looked anywhere but at her. “Uh, no. His pants stayed on. He just used his mouth.”

Her stare bored into the side of my face. “He went down on you at work.”

Somehow, it was both a statement and a question.

“Yes, that is…correct.”