Page 43 of Trustfall

“Sounds fun.”

“Do you want to come with us?”

I immediately stiffen. He wants me to meet his friends? Obviously, I’ve met a lot of his high school friends, but he wants me to meet his adult New York City friends?

“Oh shit. I spooked you,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.

“No—it’s just. Meeting friends is like a relationship thing, right? Not a friends-with-benefits thing.”

“We get to make the rules, remember? It’s just a couple of drinks. Travis and Ace are cool. They’re hockey players who were regulars at the bar I worked at. Well, I guess they’re still regulars. I just don’t work there anymore. Obviously. Anyway, they’re in their off-season and wanted to check out the ‘country.’”

He’s doing that thing again where he starts rambling when he’s nervous, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

“Hockey players? Like in the NHL?”

“Nah. They’re in the East Coast League but hoping to make it to the NHL eventually.”

“Oh, okay. But they’re still hockey players?”

“Yeah…” I see a brief spark of understanding build behind his eyes, and then jealousy spreads across his features as he realizes the motivation behind my questioning.

“You know what? On second thought, you shouldn’t come. You’re right. It’s way too couple-y,” he says, attempting to backtrack.

Oh, this is too good. There’s no way I’m backing out now.

“Nope. No takebacks. You asked me to meet your friends, so I’m going to meet your friends. Who are hockey players,” I add with a wink.

“But what if we run into Nate? I didn’t think about the whole public thing,” he tries.

“He’s in the city for work. Won’t be back until Wednesday.”

He winces as I finish removing the last of his sutures, but I don’t think it’s from anything physical I’m doing.

“Okay, all set. What time will you be picking me up?”

He doesn’t seem convinced but takes a deep, calming breath and answers me anyway. “We’re gonna hit up Ember Thai for dinner, and then we’ll probably head out around nine. Does that work?”

“I’ll be ready.”

I sipmy caramel iced coffee and pop another bite of chocolate chip muffin into my mouth. Allie baked them this morning—stress-baked, more accurately. She cooks all the time but only bakes when she’s in full meltdown mode. The moment I came back from Luke’s this morning and smelled the delightful aroma of fresh-baked goods, I knew something was wrong. She still won’t talk to me, though, and it’s starting to irritate me. I’m giving her one more week, and then I’m hosting an intervention.Maybe Luke will come to it.

Shit, why can’t I stop thinking about him? I just left him a few hours ago, for God’s sake. I turn back to my book, hoping to distract myself until I see him again tonight. I planned on visiting Gram today, but I called ahead, as usual, and one of the nurses said she was having a rough day. My heart sank at hearing that. I hate when she has tough days. It’s worse because her doctors think it’s best if Nate and I keep our distance when she’s like that. Our presence just ends up confusing her more, and she gets agitated. So, I stay away, knowing that she’s in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it. It hurts even more because she always helped me when I was in pain.Until she couldn’t anymore.

So here I am, trying to distract myself with iced coffee, baked goods, and a new stalker romance. Yes, I’m into stalkers—fictional ones, of course. Although I have a vague recollection of telling Luke it was okay if he stalked me the other night when I was drunk. Anyway, it’s where I got the idea to try face-fucking, which was better than I expected. I thought I was going to be humbled real quick, but I think I held my own just fine.

Allie walks in, interrupting my thoughts and dropping a tray of peanut butter cookies on the coffee table.

“Oh my god. Again, with the stalker smut? I thought we were past that, now that you’re getting some regular D.”

“First of all, don’t judge my reading preferences. And second of all, I’m not exactly getting regular D.”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, I’m gettingsome. But we haven’t had actual sex yet.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Ugh, Allie. We haven’t had sex. Deal with it!”

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