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And she was excited about it.
When the coach released them, Chelsea jumped to her feet and threw her skates in her bag, hurrying out of the locker room.
“Whoa, slow down,” Cherry Fly teased, stepping in front of Chelsea. “We’re going out for drinks to celebrate. You want to come?”
Normally she loved hanging with her girls after a bout. It didn’t matter that she didn’t drink—she didn’t like the way getting drunk made her feel, that out-of-control, loopy sensation that reminded her of her rape—but she enjoyed the company. But tonight? Tonight she just wanted Sebastian and more kisses and more touches. “I can’t, my guy’s waiting for me.”
“Bring him along.” Cherry shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first spouse to tag along. Won’t be the last.”
“No, seriously, we have plans.”
“Oooh,” Grief Kelly said, appearing. She looped an arm over Cherry’s shoulders. “Someone wants to get laid.”
Chelsea ruined a perfectly good bitch-face by giggling.
“Called it,” Cherry said, and high-fived Grief Kelly. “Fine. You go get you some, but we get details at next practice.”
“Hell no.” Chelsea pushed past them. “You guys can just use your imaginations. See you next time!”
A few whistles and catcalls followed her out the door, and she flipped them the bird, grinning. Let them say what they wanted. She didn’t care. It was all good-natured ribbing anyhow. Her girls knew her. Maybe not as well as Pisa, but enough to know that she didn’t give her heart easily.
Then again, this wasn’t heart, was it? This was just body.
But she kept thinking of what he’d told his family. I love her .
She had all kinds of hard-to-classify feelings for the guy herself. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready for the L-word just yet, but she was sure heading in that direction. And after tonight, who knew? Maybe she’d orgasm like a champ and declare endless love for him.
It could happen.
Actually, it really could happen, and the thought made her giddy. She hustled down the hall to where Sebastian was waiting and bounded up to him, her feet feeling weird in sneakers after being in skates all night. He had his notepad tucked under one arm and gestured at her bag. “Want me to take that?”
She clasped his hand in hers instead, keeping her bag firmly on her shoulder. “A girl can carry her own skates.”
“Of course you can. But you were skating all night and all I did was sit in the bleachers and drink beer with Diane.”
She chuckled. “I’ve met Diane. Nice lady. Can’t skate for shit.”
“So she tells me.” He grinned down at her as they walked. “Skating’s important in a spouse.”
“It is,” she said loftily. “I’m going to ask you to show me your moves at some point.”
“All my moves don’t involve wheels,” he said, and gave a wiggle of his brows. At her snort, he turned thoughtful. “Diane saw my drawings, though. She thinks I should sketch the girls on the team for their trading cards.”
She gave his hand a happy squeeze. “That’d be awesome! Are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled her closer to him protectively as they got to a congested part of the street. “The thought of opening up my art for other people to see . . . it feels very personal. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “It was hard enough showing you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because I don’t know what I would have done if you’d laughed.” His eyes were so somber. “Your opinion is important to me.”
Her throat felt tight with emotion, and she gave his hand another squeeze. “Maybe start smaller then? One stranger instead of hundreds?”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Good idea.”
“I have lots of them tonight.” Oh, her head was just full of all kinds of ideas. Dirty, filthy ideas. “Do you have condoms at home?”
He immediately steered her the opposite way down the street.
“Where are we going?”
“Pharmacy. For condoms.”
She laughed.
A half hour later, they were home. The moment they walked in the door, Sebastian tugged her bag off her shoulder and began to kiss her. His mouth moved over hers, tongue slicking against her own. And it was . . . just nice.
There weren’t the fireworks from earlier. It puzzled her, and she let the kiss continue for a few moments before breaking off and giving his chest a little pat. “I should probably shower. I’m all sweaty and gross.”
