Page 58 of Penalty Zone

Groaning, I sit up and back away, placing one last closed-mouth kiss on his lips.

“I hope you like the present I got for you.” He clutches my hand.

“I will,” I assure him. I’m not one to share my space, but I regret that the beds aren’t large enough for us to sleep together.Not for sex, but to have him in my arms all night long. We are on borrowed time. I can’t imagine Caleb being satisfied with someone twice his age.

What we shared isn’t enough to slake my need for him. I realize, too late, how deep I’m in over my head, and my feelings are on a runaway train.

Chapter 26

Caleb

My mom shoots me a concerned glance for the hundredth time. I am bouncing out of my skin. It’s nerve-racking, giving a present to Leo. The guy can buy himself anything he wants. The gift has to mean something, but it can’t be too over the top and be obvious I’m into him. That is the understatement of the year. My heart beats for the sound of his voice, the feel of his skin, and his rich scent.

We have gathered in the family room at the back of the house with the huge tree. My dad outdid himself this year, and Mom’s decorations are festive and tasteful. You never know what she’s going to do as the tree’s theme. One year, it was forest animals. If I had known Lucky, I would’ve sent him a pic so he could obsess over it.

My dad shuts off the TV. “They say the worst of the storm will be over by dinnertime, and then the snow should stop by midnight. That gives the plows plenty of time to clear the roads for your drive home tomorrow. The neighbor agreed to do ourdriveway so you can get out.” He eyes Mason with skepticism because his fever spiked again last night.

Leo feels Mason’s forehead and relaxes, so his temp must be down. “It’ll be a boys’ trip,” he jokes. The airlines canceled all the flights out of Burlington today, so he’ll drive back with Mason and me.

“Little Bear, why don’t you pass out the gifts?” Mom asks.

I would rather someone else randomly hand Leo his gift. Now I have to debate if I should give it to him first or last or somewhere in the middle. My brain has gone into overthinking overdrive, and it’s exhausting.

The closest gift is for Mason from my parents, so I hand it to him and intend to pass all the presents out at once.

“Slow down.” My dad laughs. “We want our guests to take their time and enjoy this. It isn’t a race.”

Tell that to my racing heart that thinks I’m trying to sprint a marathon.

My parents got him a T-shirt that goes with my present, so I hand over my card. “It goes with this.”

Mason’s glassy eyes light up as he rips into the envelope. “Yes!” He holds up the printed concert tickets in victory.

“Let me tell you, I had to bribe our social media coordinator to find me a printer to sync with my phone to print these. You don’t have to take me…if you and Kayla…” I offer, knowing he won’t commit to taking her until right before his favorite band plays this summer.

“I can’t believe you got these. I spent all day on the phone trying.” He turns the paper over in awe.

I shrug and don’t tell him I asked our agent to pull some strings.

“You’ll probably want these as well.” Leo hands him a small box with two backstage passes.

“How did you guys do this?” Mason asks.

“One of the times you asked us what we were talking about and we said ‘goalie stuff,’ it was this.” I grin.

“The time you turned red and tripped.” Mason gives me a knowing look, but he’s totally wrong. He has a few other presents, but nothing compares to seeing the band he plays nonstop on repeat.

I pass Leo his gift from Mason, and my fingers tingle from where he touches me. Mason got him an Enforcers jersey with Coach Griffin printed on the back. We all pretend not to notice Leo’s eyes tear up.

“It’s your official welcome to the team. Sorry it took so long,” Mason says.

Leo hugs him. “Thank you. It’s the best gift I could imagine.”

I toss him my gift. Since nothing can top the sentimental value of Mason’s present, the pressure is off.

Leo unwraps it painstakingly slow, and it takes all my willpower to not tear it open for him. The anticipation is killing me.

His face is stoic as he reads the inscription and turns the glass over in his hands. “I don’t know what to say.” His amber eyes trap me in their gaze.

---