“I thought he was funny and I wasn’t ready to go home yet, so…”
“So you asked him to hook you up?”
“Yeah, but I was only kidding.” I take that moment to think about what he said about my breasts being too big and then burst out laughing. But that laugh is hijacked by a moan when I recall the way he eyed my wet t-shirt. He said my breasts were average, and that’s what he liked best. I liked his honesty, liked the heated way he looked at me. His gaze wasn’t lecherous, and didn’t make my skin crawl. No, in fact, he looked at me like he wanted to worship my body and the hunger in his eyes boosted my confidence. I hadn’t had a lot of that after Jason criticized my bedroom moves, or lack thereof.
But wait, I’m not his type, right?
“Are you okay?” Lindsay asks.
“Yeah, I was…he was just so funny.”
“And cute too. Did you see that dimple?”
“Yeah, cute too,” I say softly, my mind wandering back to that dimple.
She takes a drink of her wine. “So why didn’t you two hook up?”
“I don’t know.” I fiddle with the stem of my glass and nurse my drink. “I’m just not into that kind of thing.”
Her hand snakes out and closes over mine. “I get that your last boyfriend was a total jerk, and you’re not looking for anything right now,” she begins. “But why not have a little fun? We’re not talking about a serious relationship, or marriage here, Jules. Just two consenting adults having fun. Go find out if that man has a third nipple,” she teases when the conversation starts getting a little heavy.
That brings a smile to my face, but it’s short-lived. “Well one, I’m hardly his type—”
She holds her hands up, palms out. “Wait, how do you know that?” she asks cutting me off.
I give her a look that suggests she’s dense. “Really, Lindsay?”
“You’re beautiful, Jules. Beautiful. I don’t know why you don’t believe that. You just downplay yourself.”
I snort. “Even if I didn’t, I’m still not Candy beautiful.”
“Candy beautiful? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Candy was the puck bunny who interrupted us and straight up asked Rider if he wanted to go to her place, or his.”
Lindsay’s eyes narrow in on me. “What did he choose?”
“He didn’t.”
She sits back, her expression smug. “What does that tell you?”
“He doesn’t hook up or drink during game week. He told me that.”
She opens her mouth, about to go therapist on me, but I stop her. “And two…” I let my voice fall off and bury my face in my hands. Lindsay has been my best friend since kindergarten. We share everything, which means she knows how my ex made me feel after he told me to loosen up. I was mortified, still am. “Jason.”
“He was a jerk,” she says, pulling my hands away. “An egotistical, self-serving jerk who never deserved you in the first place. You know that.”
“Lindsay—”
Lindsay leans forward, her eyes soft and sincere. “It’s okay, Jules. You deserve happiness. You, more than anyone I know, deserves to have it all,” she says gently, hitting on a deeper issue, one I’d rather not think about. Then again, when do I ever stop thinking about it? I see death all the time. I see people love and lose every day. It takes a toll on me. I can’t deny that. I also can’t deny that I’m too afraid to put myself out there because I’m too afraid of loving and losing.
Again.
God, Brett was only eighteen. He was my first love. My last love. The reason I went into nursing. I felt so helpless when he got sick, and before I knew it, he was gone from my life forever. I’d given him everything, including my virginity, and when he died, he took a piece of me with him, leaving a big gaping hole in my chest that aches on a daily basis.
“Go have some fun, Jules. Hook up with Rider and forget about real life for a while.”
“I’m not sure I can do that, and can we please not ever talk about Jason again?” I say, but there is a part of me that knows he was right. I don’t fully commit, in or out of the bedroom, and when things get too serious, I pull back and throw up my guard. Christ, why would any guy want to be with a hot mess of a girl like that?