Page 52 of Hockey 101

Can you believe it? There are line-ups at both bathrooms. I suspect someone’s having sex in the downstairs one. Not alone, of course. She hops from one foot to the other.

I have an idea. Come with me. I grab her hand and we head out of the house. It’s cold out, but not too bad.

Where are we going? I’m not exactly the type to pee outdoors, she says.

No, you can go at our house, I explain. Our place is next door, but nobody’s there, of course.

I pull out my key. I can’t get used to locking the door. Nobody locked anything back home.

Same here. Small town life, says Andy.

I guide her to our upstairs bathroom, which is the nicer one.

Wow, this bathroom is gigantic, Andy comments before closing the door. It’s too pervy to wait outside, so I go down the hall to my room. I flop onto the bed, turn on my bedside lamp, and scroll through the NHL scores on my phone. But my mind keeps going back to Andy—how sexy she looks tonight, how good she felt in my arms, how hot our conversation was.

So, this is your room? Andy walks in, and I sit up. Her lips are shiny now, and all I can think about is kissing her. She drops her purse on my desk and wanders around the room, trailing her hand over the furniture. She shuffles through my bookshelf but only finds textbooks.

Where are all the real books? she asks.

Here. I motion to the Kobo on my bedside table. It’s easier for road trips. And I never run out of things to read.

She sits down on the bed beside me. Jack, you like to read? What kinds of books?

Nature stuff. History. Bios. Thanks for sounding so surprised.

This makes her smile. Please. If I don’t keep your ego in check, who will?

I lift an eyebrow. Besides my mother, my sisters, and my teammates?

Andy laughs throatily and points to my posters. What’s with the sharks?

Oh. I…greatly admire sharks, I confess quietly.

She giggles. I’ve never heard anyone say that before. Have you ever seen a shark?

I perk up. Yes, when I was twelve. I saw a blacktop reef shark at the Vancouver Aquarium. But— I cut myself off. People never want to hear me obsessing about sharks. Andy tilts her head at me.

Why did you stop? she asks.

I don’t want to bore you.

Andy slides closer. You never bore me. I honestly don’t know what you’ll say next, and it’s… She pauses for a long moment. It’s refreshing. And if you want to discuss sharks, go for it.

I roll my shoulders and exhale. It feels like Andy genuinely likes me. Also, we’re alone in my room. How much more privacy can we get?

Can I interest you in some information about the mating habits of sharks? Wait, does that sound too nerdy?

She laughs in response and flops onto the bed. I crawl up to lie beside her, propping my head on one hand and watching her giggle.

Andy finally stops laughing. I’m sorry, but that was ridiculous. Even you can’t make sharks sexy.

Wait. Is that a challenge? I ask.

Seriously? Sure. Go for it. She gives a skeptical shake of her head.

I trail a fingertip down her jawline. What do I win if I succeed?

Andy meets my eyes. Licking rights?

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