Page 41 of Your Kiss Is On My List

“I never said that.” Her eyes go big and she licks her lips and I’m about to prove how interested I am, once again, because it feels like the right thing to do at the moment and I can’t resist those lips of hers, begging to be kissed, deserving to be kissed well and good and deep so that she has no doubt about how I feel. My arms go around her, but I don’t get a chance to kiss her.

Nate knocks on the door and says “Should I be interrupting or are you two making up?” He doesn’t wait for an answer and pushes the door open to find out.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” I say, but I keep my arms wrapped around Dani and let him make what he wants of it—which is who the fuck knows what. I sure as fuck don’t know any more what we are to each other. It feels like we’re on some kind of precipice and we could fall either way—again.

All I do know is we have until the end of this semester to figure it out. And then I’m off to my hockey career and she’s … still here at SPU, a student. Fuck.

Chapter 17

DANI

With my heart pounding in my throat and all kinds of throbbing lower in my belly, I jump from Trey’s arms when Nate walks in making it clear he’s going to stay and witness whatever me and Trey have going on. But I can’t do it, can’t let things happen with an audience because it’s so new and raw, tender and a little frightening after our last false start.

So with a soft kiss on his cheek and a long caress along his jawline, I grab my coat and go. He doesn’t stop me, seeming to understand, judging by the mean glare he aims at Nate, his former best friend. I say that because I feel like Trey and I are best friends again—no small accomplishment. And something I’m not going to tell Lou any time soon.

As I rush out the back door, I laugh, realizing I don’t’ have to tell Lou because that girl is wiser than she lets on and probably already knows.

* * *

The week flies by as I barely have the ability to concentrate on anything but my visit to New York with Trey. I’m more excited about spending the night with him than I am about meeting dad’s family and I know I should feel guilty about that, but I don’t. Dad has something to prove to me, not the other way around. Mom’s words. She took the news of my visit better than I thought she would.

“I knew you’d find out sooner or later. Deep down.” She paused on the other end of the phone and I knew she was taking a drink, could hear the swallow. “Remember he has something to prove. He could have contacted you before this. Sure in the beginning I made it hard on him, but after a while, he let it go. Let us both go.” And that was mom’s take on it. The conversation felt like an anvil weighing down my prior enthusiasm, crushing it to a sliver of its former proportions.

Running the last block from the rink to the sorority house, I let myself in and rush past Heather and Emily on the way to my room. They follow. The weekend will be more tolerable no matter what happens because dear mom has managed my expectations, but mostly because Trey will be with me. I have Trey no matter what. Dad, if he proves himself, is an extra. Besides, it’ll take more than one weekend for him to become someone I can count on.

This weekend with Dad is just a beginning. Or not. Though mom’s cynicism aside, I think we’ll have our beginning.

“What’s going on?” Emily says, beating Heather to the open door of my room. They still have their coats on. We all went to the game, but I waited for Trey and he told me he’d pick me up in one hour. I pull out my luggage to start packing. “Where are you going?”

“Didn’t she tell you?” Heather says. “She’s going to New York with Trey to see her dad.”

“Yes, I did tell her. But she’s been too busy with basketball to remember.” I smile, because I get it. I pat Emily’s shoulder as I go to my closet.

“With Trey? I thought you two broke up.”

“They’re still friends,” Heather says. She pays attention when I talk and I give her a smile.

“And you’re just packing now?”

“I’m a very organized person. It only takes me ten minutes. I need one dress in case we go out to dinner and some hanging around clothes.”

“What about a nightie?” Heather says, turning herself pink. I laugh.

“You’re right. Can’t forget about that.” In truth, I’ve been thinking about what to take for nightwear all day, maybe all week. Shit. I chew my lip and go to my drawer. I only have three choices. Heather and Emily follow me to my dresser and look over my shoulder at the contents of my drawer.

“The question is,” Emily says. “Do you want to encourage him and win him back, or do you want to discourage him and end it for good?”

“She’d hardly be going to New York with him if she wanted to discourage him,” Heather observes.

“Smart girl. I think you’re right.” I pluck a filmy pink t-shirt that’s soft and barely covers my panty line. The other two choices are flannel and fleece, definitely no and no.

“Perfect choice,” Heather nods. Emily scrutinizes all three choices and nods her agreement, then wiggles her brows.

“Is Trey on board with this honey trap?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?”

* * *