Page 22 of Hockey Halloween
Josh
Instead of driving straight home, I stop for gas even though I’ve still got three-quarters of a tank left.
As I’m topping off, I spot Reese’s car seat through the window of my SUV and I’m hit with a pang of guilt.
What the fuck was I thinking? I know the answer.
I wasn’t thinking. I was just feeling. I was living in the moment and doing what felt good without worrying about the future or the consequences.
I nearly had sex with a stranger in the bathroom of a damn bar.
And the crazy part is, my biggest regret is that we didn’t have a bed. And that I didn’t get to see much of her face. And that I’ll never see her again.
And the fact that I’m an asshole who walked away.
But what choice did I have? I was completely impulsive and irresponsible, and that’s not like me. And if my freaking brother hadn’t walked in and caught me when he did, there’s an alarmingly high chance I’d have gotten on my knees just to make Sexy Chuckie fall apart all over again.
Sexy Freaking Chuckie.
Because I don’t even know her name. Or what she looks like without Halloween makeup and a mask on her face. But I do know what makes her thighs tremble. And just how long to tease her before taking her over the edge.
The gas pump starts beeping at me because my tank is full and it’s time for me to get the hell home.
I disengage the pump and screw the gas cap back on before fishing for the zipper at the base of my neck.
I yank upwards to release the head of my costume.
I nearly toss it in the trashcan beside the pumping station.
It would hardly be the most reckless thing I’ve done all night, but I hang onto it and toss it onto the passenger’s seat as I climb back into my vehicle.
The stupid thing was starting to make me sweat.
Okay, the costume isn’t the only thing that’s made me sweat tonight, but as I turn the ignition and pull back onto the highway, I decide to put tonight behind me with every passing mile.
When I pull into my driveway, I notice two things.
The first is that Val’s car is gone, and the second is that my scarecrow has fallen over.
He’s not a real scarecrow, as in one with the dubious job of scaring off birds, but Reese brought home a book with a scarecrow in it a few weeks ago and decided we had to put one up as a decoration.
We used an old flannel shirt of mine and made a total mess with straw and glue and buttons, but we had fun.
Val even joined in and donated a pair of ripped jeans. It was a good day. A really good day.
Too good of a day. What the hell is wrong with me lately?
I need to stop having lustful thoughts about my neighbor-slash-coworker.
I need to be professional. And fine, the last hour of my life doesn’t reflect any professionalism at all.
Or maturity. Or common sense. That’s it.
From here on out, no more sexy thoughts about Valerie Grim, and absolutely no sexy times with strangers.
Grabbing my mummy head, I hop out of my car and pick the scarecrow up, driving the stake back into the ground and taking an extra minute to even out his stuffing and tug his hat back on. When Reese comes home from her sleepover at my parents’ tomorrow, she’ll know if there’s a straw out of place.
As I’m finishing up, I hear the crunch of tires over gravel and when I look toward the sound, I’m momentarily blinded by the headlights of Val’s car.
My first thought is that she’s home.
My second thought is to wonder if she’s alone.
And my third thought is that it’s none of my damn business, especially because I had my hand all up in Sexy Chuckie’s business less than an hour ago.
I’m a fucking mess and I need to get my shit together.
But when Val’s car door opens and she steps out, I quickly realize my shit may never be together again.
She doesn’t notice me, not at first. She’s too busy grabbing her purse and locking her car. Even after her headlights fade, I can see her clearly because of the streetlamp across the alley and the motion-detector lights I installed along the back fence.
I wait a second, not wanting to scare her, and in that moment, I let my eyes wander over her body—a body I’m now intimately familiar with.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she blurts, catching sight of me as her fake plastic knife clatters to the ground.
It takes a second for her to put the pieces together, to fully calculate that the mummy who just gave her a knee-shaking orgasm is not only standing in her driveway.
He owns the driveway.
Val peels the mask away from her face, the made-up scars doing nothing to conceal her innate beauty. Now that I’m looking at her—really looking at her—I can’t believe I didn’t see it when she first approached my table at the bar.
“No. Oh my freaking god. Tell me this is not happening right now. You…you were trick-or-treating with Reese, right? You just happen to be wearing a full-body mummy costume because they are wildly popular this year, right?”
“Reese is with my folks tonight,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Jared and I went to a bar near Bellfield. It’s called Kirby’s. They had a costume contest.”
Val’s standing frozen in front of me, and I don’t know what to do.
I should apologize for just leaving her there at the edge of the dance floor.
I want to wrap her up in my arms because, dammit, they feel empty without her.
And part of me wants to lead her to my side of the house, take her upstairs, and treat her the way she deserves.
And that means stretching out, taking my damn time, and worshipping every inch of her.
But Val still hasn’t moved from her spot in the driveway.
And when she finally gets her bearings, her words stop me cold.
“We can’t ever mention what happened tonight.
We need to completely wipe it from our brains.
I don’t want to talk about it or think about it, ok?
We were two consenting adults who had a good time—a great time—in a bathroom at a bar, but that was clearly a parallel universe, and we have both safely returned to this one where you are not a sexy stranger in a bar.
You are, in fact, my landlord and my neighbor.
That calls for a complete code of silence. Agreed?”
When I hesitate, she starts talking again.
“What we did was crazy. Reckless. Impulsive. Completely out of character. It’s not who we are, and?—”
“It’s not—” I begin.
“Exactly. That’s why we are agreeing to wipe it from our minds and go right back to being friends. Well, neighbors. Friendly neighbors. One of whom is the other one’s landlord. And colleague. This could get so awkward so quickly and?—”
The note of panic in her voice erases any doubt I’m harboring.
Of course she’s worried. I’m the one who can leverage power in this situation, not that I would.
But she doesn’t know that. She’s a tenant who deserves a safe, comfortable place to live.
And a colleague who deserves to come to work without wondering if the hockey coach is going to be standing in line at the coffee shop thinking about what she looks like in the throes of orgasm.
Of course,” I say without any more hesitation. “Wiping it from my memory as we speak. Have a good night, Valerie.” She nods and eats the yard up with her steps. When she’s safely inside her half of the house, I lock my car and head into my place.
Since Reese isn’t here and my parents won’t bring her back until mid-afternoon tomorrow, I should be able to relax and sleep in.
But relaxation isn’t possible. I lie in bed, knowing that Val’s about twenty feet away.
And yet, I also know she made the right call.
What did I think was going to happen? That she’d want to date me?
She’s ten years younger than I am. And sure, she’s great with Reese, but that doesn’t mean she wants an instant family.
Afterall, Reese’s mom didn’t even want the whole motherhood-and-family thing, and we were married.
The stress of child rearing was too much for Casey, and Reese and I have done just fine on our own.
Who’s to say Val is even sticking around Bainbridge?
Word on campus is that she’s exactly the PR manager the school needed.
Everybody loves her, so there’s not a doubt in my mind that she’ll get a better offer in the next year and move on.
As she should. She’s free to do whatever she wants, and so am I because we wiped away our memories of tonight.
If only it were that simple.