“You can’t be serious.”
“Of course, I’m serious. If you hadn’t been drinking, I’d be asking to fuck you in the backseat. So, a kiss is mild.”
Rolling her eyes, she leans in, stopping an inch from my lips. “Your charm is endless, Hawkins.”
Sinking my hands into her hair, I kiss her with everything I’ve got. It’s a weird moment, where it feels like both the start and end of something, and when her hips roll against me, I don’t know whether to cry or rejoice.
“I’m still allowed to think about you when I jerk off, right?” I ask quickly as she moves back to climb out of the car. “Or is that against the rule?”Please don’t be against the rules.
She actually snorts. Like a little piglet. “I’m fair game if you’re fair game. You’re my go-to. Deal?”
Fuck my life.I nod, unable to speak while my brain paints a very inappropriate image.
The next eight weeks are going to be hell.
By the time I reach home, everyone already knows what is happening because Stassie has texted Sabrina. I called Faulkner from the car; he said he thinks it will work in my favor reputation-wise, and he will design me a regime to stay fit. Figure skating will help contribute to my ice time, so Ithinkhe might be pleased with my plan. Only think, not know, because then he called me the most bizarre kid he’s ever had to tolerate and told me to enjoy wearing leggings.
Brin has all the guys around the table in the den, folding pamphlets for the theater society’s rendition ofHamilton. It makes it easier to tell everyone the whole story simultaneously but makes the laughter at my expense ten times louder.
“Since you’re so good at helping other people with their stuff, take a seat.” She hands me a huge pile of papers to fold and points to the chair beside Mattie. “Can’t wait to see your ass in tights, Hawkins.”
“I’m more worried about him getting a boner,” Henry adds, concentrating on getting his pamphlet edges straight. “He’s like a horny little dog around Stassie.”
“Gee, thanks. Nah, there will be no funny business. She wants to make sure she’s not distracted. Just friends.”
The laughing starts again; I imagine there’s going to be a lot of laughing at my expense for the next two months.
* * *
The first discoveryof this little figure skating experience is that my Tuesday class schedule aligns with Anastasia’s and we both finish at two p.m. We’re both supposed to be studying, but we’ve just arrived at Maple Hills Mall.
You know in a movie when there’s a red button, but nobody is allowed to touch it, and you scream at the TV when someone inevitably does? Anastasia is my red button. I know I shouldn’t touch her, but I want to, and she’ll scream at me if I do.
She looks so pretty right now, passionately explaining the importance of skating in the right outfit. “Stop staring at my lips and pay attention,” she drawls.
“I am paying attention. I still don’t see why I can’t wear sweatpants.”
“You just can’t, okay? We’re buyingleggings.”
Sopretty. “Yes, Ma’am.”
The first store doesn’t have anything for men, the second doesn’t have anything that goes over my thighs, but the third is perfect.
“What about these?” she asks, holding up a pair in my size.
“They’re leopard print, Anastasia.”
“I can see that. What about them?”
Quirking my eyebrow, I lean against the rack. “I mean, is them being leopard print not enough of an answer? Why don’t we rule out all animal print to save time.”
As she’s about to argue, we’re interrupted by my ringing phone.
Dad. Reject.
Putting my phone back in my pocket, she holds up another pair when I look at her. “So that’s a no to the zebra print?”
“Correct.”