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We fall silent again. I take the cue to open my beer and take a big gulp, burping loudly right after and causing Andrew to burst out laughing.
“You still burp like a dude,” he snorts, slapping his thigh.
“I knew you would like it,” I giggle.
Once more we fall silent. I focus on my drink, while Andrew looks thoughtful and takes his sweet time before he speaks again.
“There’s something I wanna ask,” he says, scratching his forehead.
I position myself against the couch a little better. It’s stiff and uncomfortable but will have to do.
“What, Andrew Connoly? What do you wanna ask me?” I try to sound assertive.
“Who’s Alissa’s father?”
I turn away from him and hide my face behind my hands, huffing with impatience.
“Alissa’s father thought it would be nice to have a night of fun, then he went out to have a life of his own without us,” I say, and it’s not a lie. “I raised her myself and have relied on my parents for help. The fact is: her father is irrelevant.”
Removing my hands from my face, I see Andrew take a deep breath and nod, his blue eyes blazing in anger. “Can I at least have a name so I can go find him and punch him in the face?” He begs for the answer.
I know quite well he is capable of punching a man for me. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. In high school, James Erickson felt the brunt of Andrew’s fists for his unwanted advances towards me.
But then again, he won’t stop pestering me until he has a satisfactory reply, and so I decide to give him one.
“Patrick Shire.” I hope he can’t tell I’m lying.
“That nerd who liked you all through junior high and high school?” Now he’s even more indignant.
“He promised to marry me after finishing college abroad, but he never came back from Germany,” I lie with a shrug. “But don’t tell anyone, okay? Only you and my mother know.”
Andrew seems to calm down a bit, but he keeps on prying. “It must have happened pretty quickly after I left,” He has a thoughtful expression on his face.
I nod without batting an eyelash. “Alissa was born premature.”
“I see.” He tilts his head back. “Listen,” he gets another inch closer. “I know you have zero reasons to trust me right now and I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’m here for you. For whatever you need.”
He takes my hand and makes my core shake with the warmth of his skin. I desperately want another kiss, but my mind is telling me to stop this nonsense and demand to be taken home. However, I know quite well that is not the scenario that is going to play out.
Andrew gets several inches closer to me, and the next thing I know we’re kissing, so hungry for each other that I bite on his lip and cause him to moan in pleasure.
He places his hands around my waist and pulls me to his lap, and I’m not sure what to do with my hands or my legs.
He places my hands over his chest. He bulked up with time. I guess professional hockey is far more demanding than the minor leagues.
He moves my legs to straddle him, and my muscle memory remembers that pose so well that I slide into it easily.
His hands reach for the zipper of my coat and then undoes it, tossing it on the floor. He’s fondling my breasts over the sweater I’m wearing.
“Let me look at you.” He pushes me away from him momentarily and caresses my face.
His thumb rolls over my lips, and I give it a series of small kisses.
“Even I had no idea how much I missed you,” he says in a low voice.
Andrew has a talent of making me feel special, and that’s just what he’s doing right now. Still, I don’t trust him. Not yet.
“Andrew?” I bury my face on the curve of his neck.
