Ollie:Dude, where are you? It’s sticky bun day in the dining hall. I swear to fuck they lace these things with crack.
Mickey:You’re coming to optional skate, right?
Deano:Text Mickey back. He’s freaking out and driving us crazy.
Will:Did you get lost coming home last night? ??
Santos: Guessing you’re skipping optional skate? Tell Josie I said hi. ??
“Do you need to go?” she asks, catching her lip in between her teeth. “I mean, they did say it’s called ‘optional skate,’ right?”
I nod. “Yep. And I've never missed one. Not even when I busted my knee freshman year.”
“What? When did you do that?”
Without realizing I’m doing it, I reach down and rub my hand over the scar on my left knee from surgery. The three little dots are faded, so they’re not super visible. My leg hair is blond, but it still does a decent job of covering up the marks left behind by my dumbass stunt.
“The day after our season ended, I tore my meniscus,” I answer. “We were celebrating, and I thought I was fucking invincible. Turns out I was wrong. There was alcohol involved, and a trampoline. It hurt like hell, and it required surgery. I withdrew from the fucking draft because I was laid up and the odds weren’t great that any team would take me. I spent the summer recovering and cursing myself for being such an idiot. But, looking back, I don’t know…maybe that’s the wakeup call I needed? I worked my ass off sophomore year. I got stronger, faster, and just better at the game. That’s probably because I had so much time to watch tape and analyze every little play. But yeah, I never miss optional skate. Until today.”
“Are you?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Josie. You know I’m sure. There is literally no place I’d rather be right now than here with you. The guys can practice without me for a couple hours, and like you said, it’s not required. Besides, I promised you three orgasms, and I’m not done yet.”
Josie smiles up at me as I roll toward her, before stopping suddenly. “Shit,” I mutter. “I don’t carry condoms. I haven’t needed them and when Ian texted last night, I?—”
Josie’s shaking her head at me. “It’s fine. Mel makes sure I’m stocked up. She’s the condom fairy. Girls in the dorm used to laugh about it, but no one ever complained. They're in the drawer,” she says, pointing to the nightstand.
“The drawer of dicks?” I ask. “God, Jos, I nearly fucking came when I opened that drawer.” Her face turns bright pink and I realize that memory is just coming back to her now. “It’s sexy as fuck,” I assure her as I fish around for a foil packet. Five seconds later, I slide the condom down my length. “I’m serious,” I tell her. “I know you get embarrassed about this kind of stuff, but it’s me, Jos. I love that you can take care of yourself when I’m not here to do it for you.”
I brace my hands on either side of her head and lean down for a kiss.
“Yeah?” she asks, her cheeks and chest still flushed.
“Hell yeah. Remember how much it turned you on when Norris told his girl about what I do when tutoring is over? Same rules apply. You getting off will always turn me on, Jos. Always. But since I’m here now…” She relaxes into the pillows as I let my fingers drift over her body. Her legs fall open and I can’t take my eyes away. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her. “Every inch of you is perfect.”
Our lovemaking is slower now. Earlier, I needed to take the edge off, but now I’m ready to lose myself in Josie Reynolds. Ipart her folds and slide my fingers deep, tapping her inner walls in a way that used to make her crazy with need.
That’s one thing that hasn’t changed.
“Van–” My name on her lips is a question I’m dying to answer.
Lining my cock up with her entrance, I kiss her as I press forward. It’s fucking heaven. She takes every inch of me and it feels so good. I rock back into her and soon we’re caught up in a familiar rhythm. She’s lifting her hips to meet my thrusts, her sweet, perfect tits bouncing with every movement. And when her inner walls squeeze me, I let go. My body releases into hers, every part of it shuddering or crying out.
Making love to Josie is like coming home, and I never want to leave again.
29
Josie
Van and I walk into the hockey house like it’s no big deal, like we do this all the time. And I guess we will, from now on. It’s a little hard for me to believe that the last twenty-four hours happened, but I can’t deny that they did. I had a little too much to drink at Booker’s last night. And who knew Dirty Shirleys could act as a truth serum? I should be embarrassed, but I can’t be, since my tipsy confessions led Van and me to a place where we could openly admit our feelings.
And that has led me here, to the hockey house. Van holds a bag from the diner in one hand and the other is clasped in mine. I reach for the door, but Ollie opens it from inside before I can even turn the knob.
Immediately, the cheering starts. There are catcalls and hollers and I think maybe someone has an air horn? It’s a wonder this place hasn’t been shut down by either the college or the neighbors.
“Two for fucking two!Goddamn, I’m a great matchmaker,” Ollie crows as Van leads me into the living room.
There are stains on the wall from the smoke and water damage last week, and the couch that was on fire is probably apile of polyester chemical waste right now. Various chairs and loveseats are scattered around, so there’s plenty of room to sit. That doesn’t stop Van from pulling me onto his lap, and I don’t mind at all.
