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In an instant I’m out of my bed, rushing downstairs, flinging open the front door and walking straight to Summer’s house. It’s only after I’m more than halfway there that I realize I didn’t even throw on a coat, that the cold November air up north in Vermont is prickling my skin. But I don’t care.
Time passes in a flash between leaving my house and pressing the doorbell of Summer’s. Then it instantly slows to a crawl, stretching out torturously as I wait for someone to answer.
Finally, I hear footsteps. My stomach turns into a tight ball of tension. My palms are buzzing and sweaty with anticipation despite the low temperature.
I hear the lock of the door unlatch. Then the doorknob turns. The door swings back. Summer stands in front of me.
She’s so beautiful that my heart pangs. Her hair glistening in the warmth of her porch light. Her lips bright pink. Her eyes a deep emerald green specked with gold. This is what I want to see for the rest of my life. Her.
“I love you.” That’s what I say, meaning each of those three words, knowing their weight, knowing their consequences, and still saying them with every bit of my heart behind them.
The cupid’s bow of her lips opens, but she’s too stunned to reply. Beats of silence tick by on this cold, still November night.
I can’t help a sly grin curling on my lips. “Now you’re going to be the one who doesn’t respond?”
It takes a second for her to react. Realization flashes in her eyes, her lips snap shut. Then she kicks me in the shin.
“You’re going to make a joke about that?” she chastises.
When I break out into a smile, she can’t help but do the same. “Couldn’t help myself,” I say, playfully shaking out the leg she just connected the tip of her shoe against. Suddenly, we’re both laughing, and all the heavy tension is diffused.
“Oh, come here, you.” She wraps her fists around the front of my shirt, right underneath the collar, and pulls me into a kiss.
I groan with relief and satisfaction as our lips tangle. I shut my eyes, losing myself in the softness of her lips, the bliss of her taste. As my tongue pushes past her lips to slant against her own, I take in a greedy scent of her through my nose, my head floating on the notes of strawberry and citrus that waft from her hair.
Warmth suffuses through me. It’s got to be thirty degrees out right now, but I feel like I’m by a roaring fireplace. My hands rest on Summer’s hips. I feel like I could stand here kissing her forever.
“Sorry I was an idiot,” I say when she pulls away for a breath. “I just …”
She shakes her head. “You weren’t an idiot. You needed time to think. To understand your own feelings. I wouldn’t have wanted you to say something before you were sure you meant it.”
“I’m sure I mean it now. Beyond sure.”
Her smile slices higher. “Say it again.”
She doesn’t have to ask twice. “I love you.”
The look in her eyes is like a magnet, pulling me towards her and into another kiss. After a gentle feathering of our lips, she shivers, so I step past the threshold of her door and shut it closed behind me.
“Hey, now I get to tell you that I love you indoors for the first time,” I remark with a smirk. “I love you.”
Summer laughs while shaking her head, but her cheeks are flushed and rosy. “What a milestone.”
“I know. Can’t wait to tell you that I love you while sitting on the coach for the first time. Or tell you I love you in the kitchen for the first time. Or?—”
She cuts off my stream of jokes. “How about telling me you love me in my bedroom for the first time?”
My cock twitches. She yelps as I dip down to scoop her up in my arms, already marching towards the stairs. “Now that’s an idea.”
I never thought I’d have this. Never expected it. Never even let myself dream about it. Someone I care about more than hockey. More than anything. Someone who makes me feel the emotion that’s humming in my chest right now.
Life can sure be funny sometimes. If I didn’t happen to have the same English class as Summer, would I have ever even spoken to her?
Falling in love was never part of my plan—and if that one tiny thing happened differently, maybe it never would have been part of my life.
Maybe I’d never once be as happy as I am right now—because I know that nothing in hockey, not even leading a shut-out sweep Stanley Cup victory, could match the feeling of holding Summer in my arms, having just told her I love her, and knowing she feels the same about me.
Maybe it was pure randomness. Maybe it was fate bringing us together because we were simply meant to be. Maybe it’s something in the middle. I don’t know.
