“Holy shit,” I manage.
“Are you?—”
“If you ask me if I’m okay I will throw Shredder’s tank at you.”
He grins against the side of my neck. “So that was good?”
“That was—yeah. Zach, that was really good.” I twist around to face him. “Get over here.”
I turn in his arms, reaching for his belt and get the buckle undone and he makes a sound against my mouth that goes straight through me.
But before I can get his zipper down, he catches my wrist.
9
ZACH
She’s gother fingers on my belt buckle, looking up at me and every cell in my body is screaming at me to let her keep going, but I wrap my hand around her wrist and hold it still.
“Wait,” I say.
“Why?” She’s breathing hard and flushed. “You were into it thirty seconds ago.”
“I’m still into it. That’s not—” I sit up straighter and try to rearrange my brain into something functional. “I don’t want our first time to be like this.”
“Like what? On your couch?”
“After a day where we bought a fish and you almost killed us with your driving. Isn’t your mom expecting you home with the cat food?” I push her hair back from her face, the gesture feels so natural it scares me a little, like my hands already know what to do with her even when the rest of me doesn’t. “I want to remember every second of it. Not rushed before you have to get home.”
She stares at me with her mouth slightly open. “That’s either the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me or the mostfrustrating.” She drops her head against my chest and groans. “You’re killing me, Almardon.”
“I’ll make it worth the wait.”
“That’s a big promise.”
“I’m a big guy.”
We don’t speak for a second and then she starts giggling and whatever was building dissolves into laughter between us.
“I should go, but I don’t want to go,” she whispers.
“I know. But if you stay I’m going to stop being noble about this and then I’m going to hate myself in the morning.”
She kisses me again and stands up, snagging her shirt and bra off the floor, and stops at the bathroom door, turning back to me. “Hey, Zach?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time I’m not going to let you stop me.”
“I’m counting on it.”
She showsup at the practice facility the next day.
I’m in the players lounge waiting for Rodriguez to finish his PT session. I’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes doing what I always do when I’m not in the crease, watching film on my phone, memorizing release points, running saves in my head. Glove side, blocker side, five-hole. Reset. Again.
“Boo.”
I jump so hard I nearly fall off the couch. My phone goes flying and I’m already grabbing for it before I register who’s sitting next to me.
