Page 25

Story: The Penalty Player

Our eyes gradually lift, and our gazes meet. With a self-assured smile and the tip of his lips, he stands confident. “I was taught to always come prepared.”

I lift an eyebrow and smirk. “It’s nice to see someone keeping their local drugstore in business.”

“Sunshine, I’m just optimistic.”

“I’m surprised you and Stella still use condoms after dating for years.” Rolling my eyes, I take a jab at the sexy man in front of me.

He slides in front of me, bends down, and picks up the goldpackage from the floor. While he flips it back and forth between his fingers, I notice two letters “XL.” I swallow hard, and he holds in a laugh, pressing his lips together in a mischievous grin.

“Let’s play a game. Is it the truth or a lie?”

I blurt out, “Lie.”

“Why don’t you roll it on me and see for yourself?” His voice is smoother than the best bourbon on a fall day.

I choke. Literally choke, and he can’t resist a deep belly laugh. Classic John. He never misses a chance to tease me. But what if he isn’t teasing? God, I’m so out of practice.

Spinning on my bare feet, I go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. It’ll be impossible to sleep with him in the bed next to me. What if he farts? What if he snores? What if he invites me to his bed?

I pad back to the bedroom, and he’s pulling back the blankets from the bed, wearing thin gray, knit shorts. My mouth waters. It’s no different than his swim trunks yet it is. He’s in my room, not on the beach.

“Your PJs are cute,” he says as he slides under the covers.

“Yours are too.”

He snorts and tries to stop himself. “Bex, I’m just a man sleeping in your room. Don’t get flustered.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. Gray shorts aren’t… cute.”

“On you they are.” Boom.

The muscles in his arm ripple as he reaches to turn off the light.

“Night, Sunshine.”

“Night, Egomaniac.”

As I lie in the darkness, I hear John’s steady breathing on the bed across from me, a soft reminder that he’s actually here. My thoughts spin like a tilt-a-whirl. I keep reminding myself that he’s the type of guy I’ve always kept at bay. Well, there were a few times in college that I gave in to John. Back then, I didn’ttrust him or any athlete. I felt too much so I limited it to making out in secret.

But we’ve grown up. Grown apart. Grown back together. And here we are.

Now I understand that he’s more than an athlete—he’s someone who listened, consoled, and cared about the devastation I went through over the past six months. Every time his focus stalls on me or laughs at his own teasing, my resolve slips. My priority should be to keep my guard up. We would never work living in two different states. Being so close to him for another week will test me.

I wonder if he’s pretending to be asleep and if his thoughts are similar to mine. The heat can wear you out and add the drinks, the big dinner, it’s possible he drifted to sleep as soon as his lids closed. I whisper, “John. John.”

No answer. He must be fast asleep, so I slip on my satin cooling mask and tuck my fist under my chin and try to dream of anything but the extra-large condom.

CHAPTER TWELVE

John

“What the fuck,” I scream, not knowing if I’m having a nightmare or if it’s reality. My erratic movements toss the creature from my arm. I jump to my feet on the skinny little mattress. Creepy crawly things scare me shitless. Bouncing on my toes, my head nearly hits the ceiling fan. ‘Where are you mother fucker?”

Becca shoots upright in her bed, instantly awake. But I can barely make out her face. “What the hell do you have on your face?”

“It’s a mask to help me sleep with cooling gel.” She sighs, removing the mask, as her eyes search for me in the dark. “Why are you standing on the bed screaming?”