“Yup.” A big grin overtakes his face.
Colton plans on entering the NHL draft this spring and Chicago has expressed interest in him as well. Their goalie will be retiring in a year or two, so they’re looking to pick up another one. And Colton is an insane goaltender. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll get snapped up as a first-round draft pick.
He’s that amazing.
There was talk of him going straight to the NHL out of high school, but he decided to play at Southern because of the coaching staff. Over the last three years, he’s packed on thirty pounds of muscle and upped his game to the next level. It was a smart move on his part. He’s a hell of a lot more prepared than he was as a naïve eighteen-year-old.
How awesome would it be if we both got picked up by the same team?
You don’t have to tell me. We could go through our rookie season together.
Most of the goalies I’ve played with are a little goofy in the head. They’re one sandwich short of a picnic. And I get it. You have to be a special kind of insane to willingly stand in front of a net and not flinch while ninety mile per hour pucks are shot in your direction.
Colton is the exception to the rule. He’s one of the smartest guys on the team. That might not be saying much, but he carries a near perfect grade point average and he’s a freaking bio engineering major.
So, if there’s anyone who can help a brother out, it’s Colton. And I really need him to come through for me. Otherwise I’m up shit creek. It’ll be like trying to find my ass in the dark with two hands and a flash light.
I clear my throat. “I’m bringing Em with me.”
“Oh?” He cocks a brow as his eyes sharpen.
I glance away from the questions simmering in his gaze. Already he’s trying to figure out why Em is tagging along when she never has before.
“We’re, um, going to—”
“Finally get it on?” He waits a beat. “It’s about damn time, bro. I never thought you’d pull your head out of your ass where she’s concerned.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Good for you.”
My head jerks up so fast I almost give myself whiplash.
He chuckles at my slack-jawed expression. “Yeah, that’s right, I said it.”
I frown and shake my head. “What do you mean?”
“You and Emerson.” He drops onto the bench across from me. His bag falls to the floor at his feet. “You’ve been hovering over that girl since freshman year.” He shrugs. “I didn’t think you were ever going to make the situation legit.”
Oh.
“We’re not together,” I mumble.
“I don’t understand.” The smile fades from his face. “I thought after you dragged Em away from that guy last weekend you’d finally bitten the bullet. Are you telling me that’s not the case?”
My gaze bounces around the red and black painted locker room before sliding back to his. “We’re, ah, just going to sleep together. She doesn’t want to be a virgin and asked me to take care of it.” This convo is more uncomfortable than I imagined it would be.
“Well shit,” he mutters under his breath, brows rising. “And you’re actually going to do it?” Amazement laces his voice.
I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or not.
“I didn’t want to,” I grumble, “but I also don’t want some other asshole doing it either.” It’s a catch twenty-two. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. But I’m pretty sure the damned if I don’t will end up being more regrettable.
It’s just a hunch.
“So,” he muses, “you’re planning to take Em to Chicago and do the deed.”
Something about the way he says it rubs me wrong. Which doesn’t make a damn bit of sense, because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“Yeah.” My shoulders fill with tension.
I can tell by the thoughtful expression on Colton’s face that he’s thinking about this from all angles. “You and Em are good friends. Aren’t you afraid that sleeping together will jack up your relationship?”
And there you have it. My single greatest fear. It’s what has kept Em firmly slotted in the friend zone all these years.
“We discussed it. Sleeping together will be a one-time deal. After this weekend, everything will slide back to the way it’s always been.”
His eyes widen as he barks out a disbelieving laugh. “And you think that’s going to work?”
“I fucking hope so. We made a few rules to help alleviate any problems.” I don’t blame Colton for being skeptical. But I think if Em and I are both on the same page—and we are—then there’s no reason that having sex should ruin our friendship.
“All right. If you two have everything figured out, what’s the problem?”
This is where Colton’s knowledge and insight comes in. “All of the girls I’ve been with have been experienced, you know?”
“Okay.” His expression doesn’t falter but I can tell that he’s unsure where I’m going with this.
“It’s important that what happens in Chicago is good for Em.” Even though I feel like the world’s biggest jackass, I force myself to push out the rest. “But I don’t know how to make that happen.”
We both fall silent. Uncomfortably so. The steady drip of the showers is the only sound that fills the stifling air of the locker room.
When I can’t take another moment of this oppressiveness, I shoot to my feet, ready to bolt from the small space. “This was a stupid idea,” I mutter, needing to put as much distance between me and this conversation as possible. After that, I’m going to scrub my brain with bleach and forget it ever occurred.
Colton points to the bench. “Park your ass, Mary. Give me a minute to gather my thoughts.”
I throw a wistful look at the locker room door before slumping onto the bench. I never thought there’d be a day when I had to go to another dude for sexpertise.
But here I am, doing exactly that.
This sucks.
Colton rests his elbows on his knees before knitting his hands loosely together in front of him and staring in contemplation. He’s got the right idea. It’s probably for the best if we avoid as much eye contact as possible.
“All right, so here it goes. If you haven’t already discussed protection, it needs to be done. The last thing you want is to get into a situation where neither of you are prepared. I don’t know if Em is on the pill,” his hands shoot up, “and I don’t want to, but you should be in charge of the condoms so she doesn’t have to worry about it.”
I blow out a steady breath and nod in agreement. That had been my plan all along, but I’ll let her know that I’ve got the rubbers covered regardless of her being on the pill. I want Em to be as distraction-free as possible this weekend.
My shoulders loosen as Colton continues. “You also need to talk about how far she’s gone so you know what’s new and what’s not.”
Excellent point.
He gestures with his hands. “You know, what does she like? What turns her on or off. That kind of thing.”
I jerk my head into a nod.
“And yeah, it’s cool to have a drink. Maybe even two, but getting trashed in an attempt to loosen up won’t help matters in the end. It’s kind of like when guys get whiskey dick. Sometimes, when a girl has a few too many, it’s harder for her to come. It depresses the senses or some shit like that. So, I’d avoid alcohol if possible.”
Maybe I should whip out my phone and jot down a few notes.
“Foreplay…”
I wince and shift uncomfortably on the bench.
“You’re going to need lots of it. It’s probably best for her to orgasm first before you actually, you know, get to the main event. That way she’ll be loosened up and, er, lubricated. You might want to pick up lube at the drug store, just in case she’s nervous.”
The idea has merit. Although, if last Friday night was any indication, lube won’t be necessary. Even thinking about how wet Em got when I was playing with her body has me stiffeni
ng up.
And now definitely isn’t the time for that.
I blink out of those thoughts when Colton stabs a finger at me.
“You might want to consider jerking off beforehand so you’re able to make it last. Some level of pain or uncomfortableness is expected. You’ll have to take it slow and give her body time to adjust. Trust me, bro, she’s going to be tight. The last thing you want to be is a one pump chump.”
Damn…
I should definitely be taking notes. This is good shit.
“And afterward,” he pauses and I lean forward, not wanting to miss a single word.
Afterward is usually when I roll over and hop out of bed.
“You should get a warm washcloth to clean things up in case there’s blood.”
Blood…
I swallow thickly, not having considered the possibility.
“And then you should probably, you know, cuddle.” With a smirk, Colton rises to his feet. “Oh, and one last piece of advice, don’t expect to be fucking all night long. She’ll probably be sore. So, take it easy.”
This guy is seriously my hero. Who would have expected him to have so much great advice? I’m blown away by everything he just imparted. There’s no way I would have come up with even half of this on my own.
When I remain silent, his advice swirling through my head, Colton claps me on the shoulder with a laugh. “You need to relax, man. Everything will be fine.”
I grab my bag and rise to my feet.
Even though this conversation ranks right up there in embarrassment to the sex talk my mom gave me when I turned thirteen, I couldn’t be more grateful. Colton has given me a lot to consider, but now I’m confident I can make this experience a good one for Em.
And at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Emerson
“Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” Brinley says as we cut across campus after our last class of the day.
The muscles in my belly spasm with a mixture of fear and excitement.
It’s a five-and-a-half-hour drive to the windy city and the plan is for us to leave midmorning so we can get there with enough time for Reed to meet with the coaching staff in the afternoon.
Then we’ll grab dinner and…
Yeah.
It’s the and part that has my belly doing a full-on gymnastic floor routine. I’ve never felt this nervous in my life. Which is crazy because this is Reed we’re talking about.
When I fail to respond, Brinley turns her head and catches my eye. Concern seeps into her green gaze. “You still want to go through with this, right?” Even though I know she’s on board with the idea, she would be the first person to tell me if she thought I was making a mistake. Brinley can be impulsive in her own decisions, but she’s always given me sound advice.
I inhale a lungful of air before slowly releasing it and giving her a sharp nod. It’s all I’ve been able to think about. “Yes, I do.”
“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” she adds softly.
I hoist a smile and roll my eyes, trying to downplay my own fears. As much as I appreciate Brinley’s reassurance, it doesn’t stop me from feeling like an idiot. I’m a twenty-one-year-old virgin. This should be a non-issue. “I know.”
The strange thing is that when I considered the possibility of knocking boots with Andrew at the Kappa party, it didn’t fill me with nearly this amount of anxiety. I think that has everything to do with Reed and how meaningful our friendship is.
Maybe sleeping together is a mistake.
Maybe it would be better to have sex with someone who doesn’t matter. Someone I won’t have to see again.
But after the way Reed touched me, stroking me to orgasm, I can’t imagine having sex for the first time with anyone other than Reed. So, for better or worse, this is going to happen.
“I have an idea,” Brin says excitedly.
Thankful for the distraction, I glance at her. I’m tired of thinking and overthinking and over-overthinking what will happen in Chicago. I need to get it over with and move on with my life. Then my relationship with Reed can return to normal. I’ll stop obsessing over the way he kisses, and how his hands feel roaming over my body, or the fullness of his fingers buried deep inside me.
A thick shudder of longing slides through me before settling in my core.
It’s as if I woke up one day and suddenly noticed the way his hair slides over his bright blue-green eyes. Or how sexy he looks wearing one of those hairband thingies when he works out. Or the play of his thickly corded muscles under his sun-kissed skin.
Yeah…I definitely need things to return to normal. Thinking about Reed like this feels wrong. And kind of dirty. I don’t want to notice all of these sexy little details about him that turn me on.
Brinley nudges my shoulder with her own and I realize that I’ve once again become tangled up in my thoughts.
See? I can’t live like this. I’ve morphed into a walking talking hormone.
“Aren’t you going to ask?” she prompts with pursed lips.
“I’m afraid to,” I say with a smile. “Your ideas usually land us in hot water.” Sometimes a lot of it, but also a great deal of fun. It’s probably best to keep that tidbit to myself. It would only encourage Brinley and she doesn’t need any encouragement.
My bestie snorts but doesn’t deny my words. “Do you trust me?”
“Umm, not really,” I laugh as we head toward the parking lot.
When it comes to my relationship with Brin, I’m the voice of reason. And she’s the impulsive one. I’m the yin to her yang and vice versa. She needs someone to tether her to the earth and I need someone to pull me into situations I would normally steer clear of. We’re a match made in heaven.
“That’s probably for the best.” Brinley loops her arm through mine. “How about we grab lunch at the Village? I’m in the mood to sit outside and soak up a little vitamin D.”
The Village is an outdoor mall with a ton of cute shops and restaurants that have patios with colorful umbrellas. The idea of leaving campus and getting out of my head for an hour or two is unexpectedly appealing. I need to relax and stop dwelling on Reed.
“That sounds like a great idea.”
We walk to lot B where Brin’s silver Volkswagen Jetta is parked and slide inside. The car was a gift from her father for her twenty-first birthday. Brinley and her dad don’t have the best relationship. Since he’s the head coach of the Red Devil’s hockey team, we run into him on campus every now and then. To say those meetings are painfully awkward is something of an understatement.
Most college students would be thrilled to receive a brand-new car to roll around in, but not Brinley. According to her, this was another lame attempt on his part to buy her love.
It didn’t work.
Not by a longshot.
It was during Brin’s senior year in high school that her parents went through a nasty divorce. I don’t know all the details because Brinley refuses to discuss the situation, but ever since then, she doesn’t want anything to do with him.
Accounting is probably as far as you can get from the field of psychology, but I suspect her parents’ separation has something to do with why Brin avoids long-term relationships. She goes out a lot and certainly hooks up, but the moment a guy shows any real interest in her, Brinley cuts him loose.
An hour later, we’ve finished our lunch and are sitting in the sun, enjoying the warmth beating down on our faces. I sip my iced tea and relax on the chair, tipping my face toward the sun. This was an awesome idea. It’s exactly what I needed.
Brinley flirts with the waiter when he stops by to deliver our check. A sigh of contentment falls from my lips. I wish we could sit here and chillout for another hour or two. I want this serene feeling to last throughout the weekend. But I know it won’t. Every time I think about Reed, my belly tightens into a series of complicated knots.
I look over the check and pull a few bills from my wallet befor
e setting them in the small black folder on the table.
“This was great,” I tell her.
Brinley nods as a mischievous expression settles over her features.
Uh-oh. I’ve seen that look before and it never bodes well for me.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
Her smile turns sly as she grabs my hand and pulls me from the restaurant and down the street. “We need to make a quick pitstop before heading back to campus.”
“Um, okay.” I have to pick up my pace to keep up with her as she drags me past the candle shop and a shoe store. There’s a red sign advertising a huge sale in one of the clothing boutiques we like to peruse, but she tows me past that as well. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” After a block, Brinley skids to a halt outside a storefront.
Eyeing the shop, I shake my head. “No way.”
“Yes way,” she sing-songs, looking almost giddy.
I open my mouth to tell her to forget it, but she cuts me off. “Listen to me, girl, you need a sexy little something for Chicago that will have Reed popping a major boner.”
Oh my God, did she really say that?
Not giving me a moment to mull it over, she seizes my hand and yanks me through the door of Victoria’s Secret. It’s not like I haven’t been in here a hundred times to buy bras or yoga pants.
But sexy lingerie?
Nope.
“Is this really necessary?” I grumble under my breath, taking in the racks of lacy teddies and silky babydolls.
Doesn’t Brin understand that this isn’t a romantic weekend fling we’re about to embark on? The only reason I’m accompanying Reed to Chicago is so we can have a little privacy when we take care of business.
“It’s absolutely necessary,” she says, forcing me over to a rack that has the skimpiest garments I’ve ever seen. Most are sheer, making them totally see through. They’re certainly beautiful but they don’t leave a lot to the imagination. “You need something to set the mood, and trust me,” she pulls a black teddy off the rack and holds it up, “this will certainly do the trick.”
Just Friends Page 15