Page 32 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

“That was a lot of information,” Andrew said as class finished.

“Just think of everything we learn in terms of football,” I offered. “When you’re learning about the human heart or veins, picture how your heart pumps during a tricky pass on the field. I picture how everything translates to being out on the ice.”

He held out his hand to me and gripped my hand before giving me a little side-hug.

“You’re a godsend, Jesse. I’ll be taking you up on that study group offer, believe me. Heading to the gym, but I’ll see you next class.”

“Later, Andrew.”

I squinted as I walked outside. The heat and humidity had ratcheted up by now, and the sky was bright and blue. I walked down the long path that cut through the green lawn of the quad, the air buzzing around me as groups of students with backpacks passed by.

My eyes scanned the quad, finding an open bench under an oak tree across the way.

I headed over, sat down, and took out my phone. I re-read Mason’s text, getting way too much satisfaction from it.

>>Mason: I want your tongue in my mouth again.

I tapped out my reply quickly. Fuck overthinking it.

>>Jesse: I know you do.

>>Mason: God. Should have known you’d act cocky about it.

>>Jesse: Too bad another kiss is never going to happen.

I bit down on my lower lip. I was purposely trying to fuck with him. He was the one who wanted us to stop last night, after all.

>>Mason: Am I a bad kisser?

>>Jesse: You’re a very good kisser. Fishing for compliments much?

The image of his tongue sliding against mine was so vivid I swore I could have come to the memory of it. I stared out at a bird hopping around under a nearby tree, waiting for a response. A minute later, a photo came in.

It was a picture of Mason flipping me off. He was in his kitchen, sun pouring in through the windows, his sandy hair radiant in the light. Christ, he was photogenic.

>>Mason: Are you still off the market? Just checking.

>>Jesse: Why does it matter to you? Sex-free summer, my ass, by the way.

>>Mason: I just want first dibs when you’re back on the market. Who said anything about sex? Maybe I just want someone to make out with when my power goes out.

>>Jesse: Liar.

>>Mason: True. I wanted more. But I haven’t earned it.

>>Jesse: Is this part of your “love yourself” self-help book? Sending thirsty texts to guys you just met?

I wasn’t going to admit it to him, but honestly, I didn’t give a fuck if it was self-help advice, pure intuition, or a goddamn devil on his shoulder telling him to send me texts.

I wanted them.

I couldn’t even remember the last time flirting had felt like this. I’d met Elliot in my sophomore year, and before that, I’d barely had any experience at all. Sure, TNU Talons fans sometimes would fangirl or fanboy for me, coming up to me after games or at parties, flirting a little.

But none of it everhitme. Not like with Mason.

He didn’t respond for a couple of minutes. I began to wonder if I’d cut too deep with my last message. But finally, his response came through.

>>Mason: Kane would drop-kick me off the face of the universe if he found out I was even joking about this with you.

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