Page 13 of The Goalie

I shook my head, ready to pull my wrist back and head to the kitchen before I could embarrass myself further. Instead, he latched on to my wrist and tugged me towards him. My lips hit his and I fell into his arms.

I hated how easy it was to kiss him. I hated that his hand touched my face and mine moved up and down the slope of his arms with ease. As though we had been together for a while. As though we had some kind of history together—and not ouractualhistory where we hated the very sight of each other.

No.

This felt more romantic in nature, and Dan Holmes plus romance equaled a night in my bathroom, throwing up the contents of my stomach.

And yet, I couldn’t pull away from the kiss. His tongue slid against my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to give him access. I didn’t even care that it was morning and I hadn’t actually brushed my teeth just yet. I needed him.

I pulled away from the kiss slowly. I didn’t want to be away from his presence, from his warmth, just yet.

I hated that too.

I forced myself to snap back. The cold pinched my cheeks violently and I shook my head. I ran my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t be close to him again. I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t trust him.

He was supposed to hate me just as much as I hated him. What was he doing, pulling me in for a kiss? Setting my body on fire? Making me yearn to linger when all I wanted to do was run away?

I padded into the kitchen without another word and started on breakfast. I still had eggs and Josh left some bacon in my fridge. After checking the pantry to make sure I had toast, I began to cook.

I heard the shower turn on and I felt myself relax. I had a few minutes to myself before I had to deal with Dan out of the bedroom, which wasn’t something I was used to unless we were arguing about something. Would we just go back to the way we were before because it was safe? Or had something changed between us?

I wasn’t sure what the answer was. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted.

What was I doing here, anyway?

Besides the fact that this was my place, I started to analyze why the fuck I decided to let Dan in last night. Why had I let him fuck me in the locker room at Lucy’s gym?

Granted, we didn’t know who we were at the time. The only reason I even contemplated doing something so uncharacteristic for me was because of Josh. Because Josh called me boring.

Hell, I might have agreed to go to the party because of him, to show him I didn’t just stay home all the time.

When the sex turned out to be amazing, I realized how incredible getting out there and taking chances could be, before running back to my home after finding out the amazing sex came from Dan.

Did I let Dan in last night because he was a good fuck and I wanted to go for round two? Or because Josh called me, once again assuming that I was incapable of getting out? Was I doing this because I actually wanted to, or was it because I had something to prove to Josh? And if it was the latter, why was I still living for someone who clearly gave no shits about me? Why did I care so much about him and what he thought of me, especially considering we were no longer together?

“You okay?”

I snapped my head up, only to find Dan in a pair of boxers, short brown hair dripping beads of water on his shoulders and my hardwood floors, arms crossed over his chest, emphasizing his large muscles, and just…

Okay, I was staring. I couldn’t help myself. Not when he looked likethis.

“What?” I forced myself to say, bringing my gaze back up to Dan’s face.

There was a smug smirk on his lips and I knew it was because I made my staring much more obvious than I wanted to.

“You have this look on your face that tells me you’re constipated,” he said, swaggering in there and leaning on my kitchen counter. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I scowled, dumping the stirred eggs in my frying pan. “I appreciate your concern for my bowels, but I assure you, I’m not constipated,” I said, feeling my cheeks get hot at the mere thought of that. “If anything, I’m thinking.”

He nodded his head. “Fair enough. What were you thinking?”

“You care?” I knelt down to grab my spatula from my dishwasher.

“You know, you actually have to turnonthe stove to cook, right?” he asked.

I popped back up and contemplated hitting him with my spatula. Instead, I did as he suggested and turned on the stove.

“I was thinking how charming you are,” I said, smiling sweetly. “It’s no wonder you have a long-term girlfriend who is absolutely crazy for you. Oh, wait. You don’t. Hmm, I can’t imagine why.”