Page 43 of Flashback for the Forward

Most girls had fantasies of marrying the boy who stole their hearts in high school, filling notebooks with their first name followed by his last. But for many of them, their crushes were unrequited, and even if they were in a relationship, teenage boys weren’t interested in anything serious—they certainly weren’t thinking about taking a trip down the aisle anytime soon.

Cole wasn’t like the rest. He was standing here, promising me forever at the tender age of seventeen. And with the sincerity shining in his blue eyes, I knew he was telling the truth.

It definitely wouldn’t happen today, and probably not tomorrow either, but at some point in the future, I would become his wife.

We had a lot of hurdles ahead of us before then. The biggest one would be telling my brother I’d been sneaking around with his best friend for the better part of a year. Imagining his reaction—how angry he’d be that we’d kept this huge secret from him—made me sick to my stomach.

Cole loved me; I knew that down to the depths of my soul, but I worried that Bennett’s blessing—or lack thereof—had the power to make or break us.

Was our relationship strong enough to survive if my brother didn’t accept it, or worse yet, if it ended the lifelong friendship he shared with the man who owned my heart?

Neither of us was in any hurry to face the inevitable fallout when we stepped into the light hand in hand.

“Does that mean you’ll wear it?” Hope colored Cole’s words.

My head bobbed on an enthusiastic nod. “Yes, of course I will.”

I stripped off Bennett’s jersey before tossing Cole’s over my head.

Turning around, I peeked at him over my shoulder. “What do you think?”

“Looks so good that it’s a damn shame I’m the only one who will get to see it.”

“How about I make it up to you, and later tonight you can see me wearing only this.”

His head fell back on a loud groan. “How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on the game with that mental picture in my head?”

“Sounds like a you problem,” I teased, giving my ass a little shake.

His eyes tracked the move, his fingers flexing as if he wanted to grab two fistfuls and throw me down on the bed right then.

Cole took a single step toward me before a buzzing halted him in his tracks. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket, glancing at the screen of his cell phone and cursing under his breath. Pointing a finger at me, he said, “I have to head to the rink, but this isn’t over.”

“Far from it,” I agreed. As I tugged on Bennett’s jersey again to hide that I wore Cole’s, a mischievous idea struck. “In fact, I think we should up the ante.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

Sauntering closer with an exaggerated sway of my hips, I looped my arms around his neck. “Forgive my crossing into another sport, but for each goal you score tonight, I’ll let you round that many bases.”

His throat bobbed on a thick swallow, and when he spoke, his voice came out rough. “So if I score four . . .”

“We go all the way,” I confirmed.

The boys played at the highest competitive level of youth hockey. Their opponents were just as skilled as their team, meaning games were often low-scoring affairs. The likelihood of him scoring multiple goals was slim but not impossible, and I was prepared to make good on my promise.

Would tonight be the night I lost my virginity?

Only time would tell.

When Cole climbed through my bedroom window later that night, I was spread out on my bed, his jersey barely concealing my bare pussy from view. He’d scored a hat trick, so we did just about everything but breach that final barrier.

That was the first time he put his mouth between my legs, and I swear my soul left my body. The orgasm he coaxed from me with his tongue was far more intense than any of the ones I experienced when we dry humped, or he slid his hand into my panties, and I wondered if I would be able to survive if sex was even better.

God, these days, I couldn’t recall the last time I felt aroused. Sex had been reduced to a chore, something I didn’t really want to do but had to anyway, and in order to get through it, I went somewhere else in my head, dissociating with the experience.

Pleasure was something that only existed in my memories.

Caught up in the past, I’d missed team warm-ups and barely caught the final notes of the national anthem being belted from the singer on the rolled-out red carpet.