“I really want to taste you right now, but I don’t have time,” I tell her as I sit up.
“Why don’t we just fuck and get it over with.”
I grab her chin with my index finger and thumb. “We’re not just going to fuck, Thea.”
“Can broody Kyler come back?” she asks. “He’d fuck me.”
I chuckle, knowing she’s joking. “I just want one time where I can go slow and worship you. After that, we’ll fuck if that’s what you want.”
Thea stands on the bed, so she’s at eye level with me. “A mix of both,” she says. “Have a good practice. I’ll see you at lunch.” She gives me a long, teasing kiss before sneaking out of my room.
I come out a few minutes later and head downstairs. Devon is stuffing his face with leftover pizza, and Nolan is drinking coffee. I can’t do either, not before practice. I go to the hall closet and grab my gear, and gag at the smell. “The season can’t end soon enough. This closet fucking stinks.”
One of the guys laugh.
“Not until March, baby!” Devon says from behind me.
“Best words ever.” I give him a fist bump.
“So, had someone over last night?” Nolan waggles his eyebrows at me.
I hold up my hand and then hold it out to shake his. “Meet Rosie and her sisters.”
“Ewe, don’t touch me with your jack-off hand.” Nolan recoils and acts like I have cooties. “You need a girlfriend.”
I have one, thank you very much.“What I need is to get to practice. Come on, let’s go.”
Practice was hard. Mostly because I’m tired and lacking energy. I need to find a way to co-exist with Thea, hockey, school, and work because burnout is real. Right now, I can barely keep my eyes open during the lecture I should be taking notes on. Instead, I’m fighting to keep my head upright and my attention on my professor. If there’s going to be a test on whatever he’s saying, I’m going to fail. I look at who is sitting to my right and then to my left to try and figure out if they’re taking notes or not. I’m going to have to bum a copy from someone because I can’t afford to fail. I decide the girl on my right is probably more detailed than the guy on my left. I lean over to her and whisper, “Hey.”
She turns her head toward me slowly. I can’t tell if she’s mean, glaring, or shocked I’m speaking to her. Her expression says nothing. “Can I take a picture of your notes after class?”
“It’ll cost you,” she says.
Great, money I don’t have.“How much?”
“An invite to your next party at the hockey house.”
Easy.“We don’t send invites. People just show up. You’re welcome anytime.”
She studies me for a minute. “Not good enough, then. I want to go on a date. With you.”
“Uh, I don’t date.”
“You do if you want my notes.”
The professor dismisses our class before I form a rebuttal or ask the guy next to me to copy his. However, this girl isn’t taking no for an answer and sets a piece of paper down in front of me. The writing is girly, done in pink ink, with hearts around her phone number. When did she have time to get this creative?
“Dude, did you take notes?” the guy next to me asks.
I look from him to my very blank page of paper and then back at him. “I did. Do you want them?” I rip the paper from the notebook and hand it to him. I’m up and out of my seat before he can say anything to me.
I see Jude in the hall, coming toward me. “Hey, we’re gonna be late.”
“For what?”
“We have a Blue Line luncheon today.”
Shit.I fall in step next to Jude. It’s unlike me to forget about events where the hockey team has to make an appearance. “Did Coach remind us this morning?”