Page 49 of King of the Crease

“That’s it.” I stand up and wave my hand at Nick like I’m casting a spell. “I hereby declare us main characters.”

He gives me a humoring smile.

“I’m serious. We are interesting and complex and fucking awesome.”

Nick nods along, slowly letting the hype creep in.

“We got stories coming out our ears. Suck it, Brad Pitt,” I say. “Let’s start exuding some fucking main character energy.”

“Damn right.” Nick takes my hand, and I pull him up. “Shall we do some planks?”

“Yeah, but first.” In a burst of main character motivation, I push Nick against the mirrored wall and press my lips to his. And damn, his mouth feels good. Hot and wet.

Yet I realize there’s a difference between main character energy and sexual assault, and I quickly pull back.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Is this okay?” I ask.

“Is it okay that you’re kissing me?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“You said you wanted to be friends. I got caught up in the moment.”

“This is exactly how friends kiss in Baltimore.” He grabs my shirt and pulls me against him.

Good morning, Baltimore!

For a guy who has barely any sexual experience, he knows what he’s doing with his tongue. He presses it between my lips, flicks it against mine as he lets out a deep moan. Our mouths open and close in sync, like we’re both gasping for air. And maybe we are, maybe we both spent too long suffocating under fear and doubt.

“I have got to get to Baltimore.” I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him close, breathing in his tangy sweat and crisp scent. His back muscles tense and flex under my grip. There’s a desperate lust exploding between us, a long held need we’re fulfilling. I haven’t kissed anyone with this kind of hunger.

And the best part? Amid all the hunger and need, his lips curl into a smile as we make out. Mine do, too. We’re having fun. Enjoying this. It’s not a race to climax.

“Shit. Sorry,” I say when our teeth knock together.

Nick darts his tongue in and out of my mouth. It’s a little overeager and unlike everything else about him, not suave. But I still love it. It’s natural. It’s odd. It’s him.

The sensible adult part of me pulls back after a few minutes. The gym may be empty, but it’s still a public place. I’m pretty sure there’s a no sex rule here.

“Okay. Good workout.” I can feel the dopey grin take over my face, much like it did when I made out with Alicia Brenner in seventh grade. This is one hundred times better. No offense, Alicia.

Nick dips his head bashfully, his cheeks flushed red, lips extra pouty.

“Come over tomorrow night for dinner,” I say.

The way his eyes glow with anticipation tells me that’s a big yes. “What’s on the menu?”

“It’s Friday night, so Brody and I order pizza.”

“Brody will be there?”

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Of course. I’m excited to meet your son.”

“You’ll like him. You both seem like smarties.”

Nick looks around the empty gym. “Should we keep working out?”

I fear if I watch this man do a squat or flex a muscle, then I will violate the no sex rule. “I think we’re good.”