I shrug. “It happened, and I probably only enjoyed it because it wasyou.” I’d definitely think differently about it if Grey ignored me again after it happened.
“So you’ve been celibate for… three years?”
“Four,” I correct. “My last relationship was in my last year of college, and I graduated a year before you.” I’m a year older. “I take it you’ve been having one-night stands on the regular then, huh?”
It’s not any of my business, and still I’d love to turn every single person’s head who was with Grey before me.
When he doesn’t answer me, I know that’s a yes. I already knew that anyway. The internet, especially gossip pages, are filled with these kinds of information, even if most of them are assumptions due to pictures that were taken by fans. “How many since we’ve been talking?”
Grey takes my face in his hands, gently stroking his thumbs over my cheeks. “You don’t want to know the answer to that, baby.”
Oh, well, that’s reassuring for sure.
“More than twenty?” Grey shakes his head, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “More than ten?”
“Luan…” He sighs and leans his forehead against mine. “Would it help you if I told you that I haven’t seenanyoneever since your birthday last year?”
“Kind of.” I smile. “Fell in love with me then, huh? Our first kiss swept you off your feet so badly, you couldn’t even fuck a puck bunny anymore.”
“Well, I see, you picked upsomehockey lingo.”
“A little bit, but when I hear these game moderators on TV, I just look at the screen and don’t understand a single word. Like, what the fuck is aBarn Burner? Since when were you in a barn and who the fuck put it on fire? And why do all the websites say you’re a beautician? What evenisthat? And why do all hockey players love biscuits so much? Wherever you go, one of you is always asking for biscuits.”
Greylaughs, toppling over by my incapability to understand hockey slang. It’s not that funny. I bet if I spoke to Grey using soccer terms, he wouldn’t understand a word either.
“Okay, first of all. A lot of players refer to the rink slash arena as a barn. And a Barn Burner is used to describe a high scoring game that’s fast paced and exciting to watch.”
“That’s stupid. Just say ‘the players are killing it’or something.” At least that could be understood.
He waves me off, dismissing my great idea. “They call me a beautician because, apparently, I’m good on the ice and off. You know, people like me. I don’t see how or why, but there are worse things in life, I guess. It also means that I’m great at wheeling ladies off the ice, which, I suppose you can guess what it means.”
Yeah, I don’t want to think about that one. “You can wheel me off the ice anytime you want.”
“Gladly.” He presses his lips to my cheek. “Lastly, we refer to the puck as a biscuit.” Grey pushes my cheeks together, puckering up my lips. “Can I kiss you?”
“Baby, you don’t have to ask.”
“I do. I don’t want to get you sick without your permission.”
If I could, I’d eat him up like a cookie, but unfortunately that counts as cannibalism, and I’d really like to see Grey alive sooo… “If I get sick, I’ll stick around for another week or two.”
Grey chuckles. “But I won’t be home for that time. Only every other day or two.”
I shrug. “Who cares? This building isawesome. It’s like a hotel, but cooler. I mean, it’d be way better with you here, but that’d give me two extra weeks of snooping.”
With the softest of chuckle ever leaving Grey, he presses his lips to mine. Gentle at first, then a little rougher. His tongue pushes into my mouth without any heads-up, but I don’t care.
I bring both of my hands into his hair, messing it up because I can, while Grey’s hands slide down my body, to my hips to pull me onto his lap. Once I’m seated, he tries to push my shirt up without me noticing, but of course I do. Still, I don’t stop him.
I also don’t stop him when the shirt is off my body and now lying somewhere on the floor, nor when he slightly lifts me up to lie me down on my back, hovering over me and kissing down my body.
But there is a point when I do stop him.
“Grey.” I gasp when his lips lay below my belly button. “We can’t. You’re supposed to rest.”
“I feel great,” he tells me.
“Now you do.” I grasp his face in my hands, carefully pulling him up until his eyes are on the same level as mine. “You should savor your energy and not exhaust yourself for one quick fuck.”
