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“I saved you some. Literally nobody turns down my pasta.” She flops into the bed next to me and hands me the potholder first then sets the bowl into it before twisting the fork prongs into the noodles.
“The bowl gets hot,” she explains.
I give her a crooked smile then take the fork in my hand and twist some more. I breathe in the scent and fill my mouth with a way-too-big bite. The tangy sauce hits my tongue, and then the sharp contrasts of the seasoning and peppers literally coats my mouth in savory goodness. I practically swallow without chewing and go in for a follow-up.
“Damn,” I mutter through chewing.
“I told you.”
Laney gets up and steps into the closet, taking off her shirt and tossing it into her clothes bin then putting on an extra-long T-shirt. She wriggles out of her sweatpants then climbs back in bed next to me. I do my best to ignore how tempting her body is, instead allowing myself to be taken in by the temptations of her cooking. I scrape the bowl practically clean and Laney takes it from me then sets it on her night table.
“I’ll deal with it in the morning,” she says.
I grimace, and her face contorts with question.
“You don’t have to deal with it. You did the cooking, so I do the cleaning.”
She leans close, smiling, then taps her fingertip to my nose twice.
“You travel tomorrow, which means you get up at four a.m. Why don’t you let me take this one.” Her lips tug into a half smile and I relent, holding up a palm.
“Fair enough.”
I have a marketing paper to write, but it’s not due until Monday, and I don’t think my mind can switch to the right gearnow. I’m not worried about my mom, but I’m not exactlynotworried either.
“One of your teammates gave me a ride home today. Max? He seems nice. He said he had to drop your bags by the house because you had an emergency.” Laney sinks down to lay on her side, propping her head up on her hand.
I’m not sure what to react to first. Max taking her home. Max being nice. My emergency. I choose option four—none of the above.
“Thanks.” I blink through our stare until I realize she hasn’t blinked once and I look away. Maybe I’ll work on that paper after all.
“You want to talk about it?”
No.
I focus on nothing in particular straight in front of me and consider her offer again, and decide that either way my stomach is going to twist on itself until I get the text from Ma that she’s heading home. I shift my gaze to her and try to read her eyes to get a sense if she really wants to hear about my problems or is just being polite since I’m in her way. The longer I look at her, though, the more I want to kiss her, and it takes about ten seconds of silence for me to decide I’m going to.
Shifting my body lower in the bed, I roll toward her until my right hand is cupping her face and she’s caged between my arms.
“No. I don’t want to talk,” I say before dropping my mouth on hers and sucking in her bottom lip. My tongue tastes her skin, coaxing her to open more for me. Within seconds, her hands are on my face, and neither of us is breathing—we’re just kissing. Tongues exploring and teeth nipping at each other’s skin, we take turns peppering one another’s lips, jawlines, and necks with hungry kisses.
We never take it further, but we kiss until I can tell I’ve made her lips raw with my scruff. I have to shave. Kissing Laney is agood motivation to keep up with it, too. Not ready to let her go completely, but too distracted to sleep or hint that I want more, I settle into the center of our bed and hold her at my side. I run my hand through her long, soft hair, over and over, counting at first then simply making it a permanent routine as she drifts to sleep with her head on my chest and her leg slung over mine.
I lie awake knowing that my mom is probably being checked on every hour. I try to guess when, and a few times consider texting her to check if she’s awake too. At some point, I’ll either drift off or get out of bed and pack up for a bus ride to Wisconsin. With my luck, the guys from the Spoilers will somehow hitch a ride with us and want to talk, and then I’ll have to pull some energy out of my ass so I can perform on the ice. I guess I’ll be pulling out magic energy regardless at this point.
I can do this all.
I can do it all.
I can handle it.
I match a thought with each pass of my hand through Laney’s hair. And finally my eyes close.
13/
laney
It’shard to get pumped up for the bench. I have a new respect for the players on our team who don’t get much time on the court. They’re always with us, cheering and hyping. They grab towels and wipe sweat from the floor, grab water, and scream for our success.
