“Why are you screaming?” he whispers.
My heart races all at once, even in places I don’t want to admit. “Because,” I begin to explain, looking around.A spider.I need to break his soul-shattering eye contact, or maybe I’ll be the one to kisshim. When I look to my right, I realize we’re parked at his house. “Oh, good. We’re home.”
“Are you alright?” he asks. “Do you need a minute?”
I force my lips together and nod without looking at him again. “Oh, I need more than that,” I admit with a shiver overtaking my entire body. Why is he giving me goosebumps? “Dibs on the bathroom,” I call out and race out of the car to get far away from him.
I’m stomping away into the house to shake this shiver. It makes the air feel ten times colder than it is. It’s my personal wind chill advisor. It’s 35 degrees out, but with Madison Wilder’s wind chill from Greyson Cress, it feels like 10 degrees.
No, this is bad. This feeling sitting in my chest is so bad. I cannot want someone like Grey. But didn’t he say tonight that he wouldn’t break my heart? Stop it, Maddie. Stop it. This is all fake.
I open the door to the house and Ace is in the kitchen. He turns his head, watching me.
“Oh, you beat us home?” I say, practically running through the house.
“Where’s Grey?” he asks, not acknowledging my statement.
“I really need to pee,” I say, ignoring his question as I dart past the kitchen.
I think I’ve convinced myself enough to believe I might pee my pants, but when I sit on the toilet, my throbbing vagina is not screaming to let urine out – it’s pulsing for a whole other reason. After I pee, the feeling is still there.
I press my finger against myself just to trial and error what’s happening to me. When it feels like my body could start convulsing, I release the pressure and sit for a moment. What has gotten into me? I’m into Grey? No, this can’t be. Sure, he’s good looking but I would never date someone like him. He’s too brooding, too hard, too impossible. I need nice, easy-going, and funny.
I step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where Grey is staring at the poster I made. He has it on top of his dresser, leaning against the window.
“I’m pucking Grey,” he says without turning to me. “It has a nice ring to it.”
Oh, yeah. It’s the shadow of his shoulders, the tone of his voice, and his beautiful hair. Why does his hair look so good out of his hockey helmet? It’s making my throb throbby. Is that even possible? Because it’s happening to me.
Act normal.
“Yeah,” I stand next to him since he’s on my side of the bed. “You know some girls have made it their mission to puck you, but not me.”
Oh my god. Why did I just say that?
He laughs, and I turn to him to witness this rare sighting. His hair is tousled — it looks inviting to my fingers. And he throws his head back, in full flattered mode, as he platonically pats my shoulder. I freeze, lost in under his palm. Those big hands that are so good with that hockey stick are touchingme.
“I need to shower,” I blurt, turning around to cut him off before he can walk ahead. He grips my shoulder now, causing me to freeze again. I look up at his blue eyes while he tears off his shirt. My heart is banging against my chest like a freaking drum. I don’t dare to look down at his body even though I’mhellaattempted to get a glimpse of him this close.
He says with his paw still on my shoulder, “I was just about to shower.”
“But,” I’m breathless like a buffoon.
He walks around the bed, pointing at my handmade poster board. “Now I understand why your brother wanted to kill me.” We lock eyes across the room, and then he glances down at my body. What is he looking at? So, I look down to see if anything is out of place. I’m just a 21-year-old in a hockey jersey and high socks. I think my bones are shaking. He is looking at me differently, I swear. I look up at the bedroom light to figure out if it’s just the way the lighting is hitting his face. He looks up too and then makes an expression at me. I mimic the face, holding my breath until he shuts the bathroom door.
I turn back to the poster wondering why I thought the quote was funny enough to put it on a poster board and bring it to his game.
My brother wanting to kill him is comical. Ryan is wild on the ice but he’s not at all scary. He is the biggest pushover ever. Ask his best friend, Addison, and she’ll tell anyone. We laugh about it all the time.
Now, I’m zoning out at the word on the poster.Pucking. It makes my pelvis clench even more. And the direct word after is Grey, and that turns me on. This poster needs to be thrown into the trash, shredded to a thousand pieces, and never see the light of day. I know Greyson will walk out of that bathroom without any clothes on, so I decide to leave the room to trash it. I don’t think my eyes can handle being around him right now.My eyes or my vagina. I’m dying to see his V-line, and it’s really none of my business how muscular he is under his jersey, but I’m imagining it from my memory. He is so hot.
I hear Ace say, “No, he’s not gonna come out tonight.”
Knox peeks his head around the corner. “Grey? Oh, it’s Madison.”
“Hi,” I mutter, embarrassed by this stupid poster I’m holding, as I walk into the kitchen. They are dressed like they’re going out, so I ask, “Where are you guys going?” I need the attention off of the huge poster in my hands.
Ace hits Knox in the chest before Knox can say a word. Ace glances away from me. “Where’s Grey?” he asks. I take a step back, trying to crumple the poster but it’s not working. The paper is too thick.
