19. Josie

19

JOSIE

" T hanks for letting me tag along," I said, as our little group made our way out to the parking lot.

"Of course! I'm now going to force you to come to every game with me," Mila declared loudly as she gripped Bryton's arm. "Finally! A girl who isn't a bitch. I want to keep you. Can we keep her?" She added, looking up at her boyfriend with a pouty look.

I held back a laugh at Bryton's bewildered expression.

"Uh, sure?"

"Yay!" She detached herself from him and flew right into me. I would have fallen if it wasn't for the sturdy strength of Wyatt behind me. Mila wrapped her arms around me in a tight bear hug, my own wrapping around her to keep her upright. "Now you're stuck with me."

"Okay, babe, I think you can let her go now." Bryton came forward and unhooked her from me, shooting me an apologetic look over her head. I just smiled.

"Text me tomorrow, bestie." Mila planted a kiss on my cheek and let me go, Bryton wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I will," I said with a grin.

"Bye guys," Bryton nodded at Wyatt and Trevor. "Good to see you again, Josie."

"You too." I watched as he gently led an intoxicated Mila to their car. She continued chatting away without a care in the world.

"Got to love a drunk Mila," Trevor laughed. "That's my cue to go, too." I stepped aside as he and Wyatt did their bro-handshake thing guys always seemed to do.

"It was nice getting to know you a bit better, Josie." Surprising me, Trevor bent down and hugged me. He was even taller than Wyatt, and I felt tiny compared to him—my head only came to his chest.

True to Mila's word, Trevor was a nice guy. Sure, he was intimidating as hell on the ice, but off it, once you got past his bravado, he was a softy. His jibes back and forth with Mila were entertaining as hell. It was easy to see that Trevor was the life of any party, and someone you instantly liked being around.

With the others now gone, it was just Wyatt and me. All night, I'd tried to ignore the tension between the two of us. The two games of pool we'd played were almost torturous—both of which I lost. While Wyatt limited his physical contact during the second game, he'd continued his little touches every time he brushed past me. Every shot I made he'd murmur ‘good job' which just turned me on further.

It was hard enough to fight against the increasing sexual energy between us when his friends were around, but now that we were alone once more, it was damn near impossible. Especially with the way his hand caressed the small of my back as he guided me towards his car.

Like a gentleman, he opened the passenger door for me, waiting for me to slip into the seat, before shutting it after me. Eagerly, I watched him walk around the front of the car and gracefully fold his lean body into the driver's seat.

"How did you like the game tonight?" Wyatt asked once he'd pulled out into the street, heading in the direction of our apartment building.

"It was amazing being so close to the ice. Way more intense than watching it on T.V."

"You mean you've never been to a game before?" He glanced over at me in surprise.

I shook my head. "Growing up, we never really had the money to go. So, my dad and I made it our tradition to watch the games on the television together. So today was like ticking off a bucket-list item for both of us."

"Well, I am glad you came."

"You played amazingly." I switched the subject.

"It felt…good tonight. Like the old me," he confessed.

"I know it's hard coming back with an injury but," I glanced over at him in the dim dashboard light. "You were born to be on the ice."

I wasn't sure how much my words meant to him, but it was important to me that he knew that. Seeing him play in person was magical. I'd been so caught up in my feelings for him, that it had momentarily escaped me that he was one of the best ice-hockey players of this generation. I couldn't possibly find the words to describe how great a player he was.

He just needs to believe in himself again.

"Maybe you're my good luck charm," he murmured.

"Maybe I am," I teased. "Should I bring a huge sign to the next game? Make sure you can see me in the crowd?"

"For sure. How does Wyatt Boone is the best hockey player in the world, sound?"

"Best player in the world? Hm, that's quite the stretch."

"Did you not see the winning goal in the final seconds?" His eyes darted back and forth between the road to me and back again.

"Eh, it was okay," I shrugged, trying my best to keep my expression neutral. "Now Trevor on the other hand."

Wyatt's hand left the gear shift as he reached over and grabbed my knee, causing me to jerk at his touch.

"Want to say that again?"

"Trevor," It was all I managed to get out before he squeezed my knee so that I almost jumped out of my seat. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh as I squirmed in my seat. "Okay, okay fine!" I giggled.

"I thought so." He released the pressure on my knee but kept his hand there.

"I didn't pick you to play dirty." I said with a playful pout, but he just shrugged, the corners of his lips curving up.

Turning my attention to the streets rolling past my window, we drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" I frowned, unsure what he was talking about. "Cover your mouth when you laugh," he elaborated.

Oh.

I thought I'd gotten myself out of the habit, but sometimes I still caught myself doing it—especially if I felt nervous.

And Wyatt definitely makes me feel nervous. Among other things.

Wyatt waited patiently for me to answer, and I struggled to word the explanation.

"My ex—the one I told you about," I didn't want to say his name, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Wyatt nod. "He once told me my laugh was too loud. I sort of got in the habit of covering my mouth so it wouldn't be," I said with a shrug, trying my hardest to play it off like the words still didn't hurt me. Like they didn't still sting, even after all this time.

I remember the moment like it was yesterday. The sneer on my ex's face as he told me I laughed like a donkey and that I was just as unattractive. He had a way with words that made them hurt more than any physical blows. From that point on, I became so self-conscious about it. When I did find something to laugh about, I took to covering my mouth and pressing my lips together. Until eventually, I just stopped laughing.

Stopped smiling.

It took a long time for me to break the habit, to allow myself to laugh freely, but every once in a while, his voice popped back into my head, making me self-conscious all over again.

Wyatt slowed to a stop at a red light and took the opportunity to turn in his seat so that he faced me. "I hope you know you don't have to hide anything from me, especially your laugh. Even if you had the world's most annoying laugh, I'd still want to hear it."

My heart did something funny in my chest as he spoke. His tone was so gentle, so sincere, that I knew he meant every word.

"You don't have to worry about hiding with me, okay?" Wyatt ducked his head just enough so I could see his features more clearly. Swallowing the lump in my throat I nodded. Seemingly satisfied with my answer, he gave my knee a soft squeeze before turning back to the road.

As we rode the elevator to my floor, hand in hand, I silently wished time would slow down. I didn't want the night to end. Seeing him play, hanging out with him and his friends, it was such an amazing night. I felt like I was in a dream that I never wanted to wake from.

"I had a great time tonight. Thank you again for inviting me to come see you play," I said as we reached my door. I knew that the moment I stepped into my apartment, my magical evening was over. So, instead, I tried to drag it out as long as I could.

"Anytime." Wyatt's thumb rubbed softly across the top of my knuckles. He hadn't let go of my hand from the moment we got out of the car. I loved it. Love how my hand fit perfectly in his.

I turned so that my back was to the door, keeping his hand clasped in mine. My eyes slowly moved up his chest to his face, my neck tilting back to meet his gaze.

"Do you want to do something tomorrow?" He asked.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Boone?"

"I am," he replied without hesitation.

Secretly, I'd hoped he would ask me out, but now that he had, it felt surreal. I hoped it was confirmation that he also felt whatever this was between us. For the first time in a very long time, all I wanted was to jump in feet first and see what happened.

"I would love to."

"Okay, cool," he ducked his head as he smiled, and I was certain I saw him blush. I smiled, knowing that I might just make him feel as nervous as he made me. "I'll pick you up around noon. Does that work?"

"Sounds good," I replied, already mentally calculating the hours until then.

We stood before my door, staring at each other. My eyes unconsciously dipped to his lips before moving back to his eyes. All I wanted was for him to kiss me. To finally feel those lips against mine. The same ones I'd dreamt about last night, causing me to wake up gasping for air, thighs slick from the dirty dream.

I barely noticed Wyatt's hand dropping mine, too busy watching the way his blue eyes seemed to darken. He brought his hand up, fingers gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. The tips of his fingers grazed my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. The way he looked at me made my breath hitch. When my eyes moved back to his lips, my tongue darted out as I absently licked my own, imagining how his lips would feel pressed against my own.

His fingers trailed a path down my cheek. The touch was so soft I found myself leaning my face against his hand, craving more of it. With our eyes locked, Wyatt took a small step forward, and as I moved back, I felt my back press against my apartment door.

Wyatt cupped the side of my face, his thumb tucked under my chin, tilting my face up a little bit more. His eyes left mine as he dipped his head. I didn't have time to take a breath before I felt the gentle caress of his lips against the crook of my neck.

My eyelids fluttered as my hands gripped the front of his shirt as he trailed his lips ever so slowly up my neck. The touch was soft, almost like a whisper as he worked his way upwards.

My toes curled in my shoes as his lips ghosted up my throat to my jaw. I was gripping his shirt so tightly in my fists, I was certain it would be stretched out when I let go. As Wyatt's lips moved up to the corner of my own, barely touching, a small whimper escaped me.

"Is this okay?" he whispered.

"Mmhm." My brain was no longer functioning enough to form real sentences. Not when his 6 '2, hot-as-sin body, was pressing mine against the door, igniting a fire in my lower belly.

And he hasn't even fully kissed me yet.

"I want to kiss you," he said, finally saying what I wanted to hear. It took everything I had not to reach up and yank his head down to mine.

Although if he doesn't kiss me right this second, I may have to.

"Then kiss me," I managed to say, and I trembled as I felt his lips curl into a smile against my cheek.

"So demanding." Wyatt turned my head to the side with his thumb. His lips hovered over mine, eliciting an embarrassing sound from me.

As his lips finally met mine, I all but melted. It was all I could do to remain standing. The kiss was soft at first, as if Wyatt was just testing the waters. He tasted like a mix of beer and spearmint, two things I never thought would go together, yet strangely did.

I pressed my front against his, needing to close any gap between us as he angled my head to deepen the kiss. When he swiped his tongue across the seam of my lips, I eagerly opened my mouth. Yet, instead of feeling his tongue against mine, Wyatt gently tugged my bottom lip between his teeth.

A low groan surged up my throat and I was helpless to stop it as I arched against him. With one hand pressed against the door above my head and his other hand cupping my face, I felt cocooned.

As we grew sure of each other, the kiss became deeper, rougher, as though whatever had held us back had finally snapped. Wyatt's lips took mine, as if branding me. I could feel his kiss right through to my very bones, and it was like no kiss I'd ever had before. I never wanted it to stop—never wanted his lips to leave mine.

By the time Wyatt pulled back, I felt lightheaded and breathless, as though he'd sucked all the oxygen from my lungs. He rested his forehead against mine as the two of us caught our breath. I kept my eyes closed, lips tingling. There were no words to describe what just happened.

"You're all consuming, Josie," Wyatt mumbled softly, his lips softly grazing mine as he spoke before he pulled his head away.

"In a good or bad way?" I breathed.

"Good. Definitely good." My heart fluttered at the words.

"I better go before I do something I shouldn't," he said as he dragged his thumb across my bottom lip, his eyes tracking the movement. I didn't want him to go. I wanted to pull him into my apartment and continue what we'd started, but I knew he was right. I wasn't the type to jump into bed with someone so quickly, even if that person made me feel things I hadn't felt before.

I don't want to ruin anything by moving too quickly, so it's probably for the best that we end the night here.

"Okay," I agreed, though every inch of my body protested.

He took a step back, his hand falling from my face as I forced myself to release his shirt. I already missed the feel of him pressed against me, and I knew I'd think of nothing else for the rest of the night. Wyatt was an addiction I knew I could easily get hooked on.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He looked reluctant to leave as he took another step back. "Goodnight, Josie."

"Goodnight, Wyatt."

As he turned and headed towards the elevator, I stood there, watching him, my lips tingling. It took all my willpower not to run after him and pull him in for another kiss. Before he could disappear, I quickly called out.

"Don't get stuck!"

The grin he flashed over his shoulder mirrored my own. "Don't worry. Batman doesn't get stuck."

I laughed under my breath at our inside joke, and with a wink, the elevator doors closed, and Wyatt disappeared from view.

With a smile so wide my cheeks ached, I turned and entered my apartment.

Tomorrow can't come fast enough.