Page 53 of Four Letter Feelings

Jeremy chuckled. “I almost lost, though. Got lucky when he lost his footing.”

He put the ice pack down next to him as he started to get dressed and a yawn reminded him of just how tired he was, also just how much his face ached. Deciding not to shower at the rink, but to get himself home and go from there he threw his gear haphazardly into his bag. He didn’t want to risk taking a nap in his car, he knew that AJ would just let his ass sleep and not bother to wake him up.

“It’s not really about the winning, it’s about the principle. He won’t mess with you on the ice any more now he knows you’ll throw down and keep him in check.”

“Ha, ha,” Jeremy drawled. “I see what you did there. Is that how sorry for me you feel? You’re resorting to hockey humor? Man. I musta been bad out there.”

Jeremy ran his hand through his hair and rolled his eyes, wincing in pain as he did so.

“Fuck!” he grumbled. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“One on the lip, two on your eyebrow?”

“Yeah. Dude has sharp knuckles.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” AJ leaned over so Jeremy could see a silvery-white scar just under his eye socket. “I have a permanent reminder of that fact. Six!”

“Six? Christ, that dude is a real prick.”

***

Just as he was about to doze off on the ride home, Jeremy felt his phone vibrate and he jumped.

“You know I’ll leave your ass in the car if you pass out, right?”

“Yup,” he answered through a yawn. “Sure do! And I know I won’t get my shake, either.” He stretched and pulled out his phone, the corner of his mouth tugged into a half-smirk. He winced. He had wondered if he was going to hear from her again and at the mere sight of her name his pants tightened.

Jess: Hey sugar britches! Guessing you’re back on American soil… butt stuff?

“Dude... Who is she?”

“Who’s who?”

“Don’t even. Look at your face, man. Do you love this woman, or what?”

“Nah, man. Why do you always jump to the four-letter feelings shit? Sheesh! Friends with benefits, that’s all it is. She’s a sophomore dance student. I, eh, think that’s what she said she did, anyway. She’s hot and… forward.”

“Forward?”

“Yeah. She has this wicked high sex drive and just… says what she wants.”

“And dare I ask what it is that she wants?”

“Butt stuff, apparently.”

“Oh Christ. That’s… specific. I… Jesus Jer that’s TMI!” he tripped over his words, as he stopped at a red light not far from the McDonalds drive-thru.

“Weeell, you did kinda ask…”

“Right, but I thought you meant, like, I dunno, ‘I want you baby’, or, ‘I’m hot for you’, or whatever. Not, ‘I want butt stuff.’”

“No shit. She’s legit the most forward woman I’ve ever met. I kinda like it.”

“Oh, I bet you do.”

Jeremy chuckled again as his friend rolled his eyes and opened the window.

Jeremy: Right now? Sure, I’m picking up McD’s first. Need to refuel after my game. Gimme an hour?

---