Page 90 of Pucking the Team
“And I loved English literature, the classics, so it was a subject that held my interest. I suppose in a way it took my mind off the grief. I could lose myself in stories and essays and characters written long ago.”
“You did better than me, I’ve practically zero qualifications. Hockey was all I was ever good at.” He paused and moved closer, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I guess we’re the same in one way.”
“What’s that?”
“We both had a shit time in our late teens.”
“That’s true.”
For a few minutes we didn’t speak. I wondered what my parents would think of what I was doing? I knew they’d be proud of me for walking…or running…away from a man who didn’t love me. But what they would think of my four hockey star boyfriends, I didn’t know.
“So, you can’t be totally perfect,” he said suddenly and with a grin. “I know you don’t have hairy nipples or warts on your butt, but there must be something.”
I laughed. “Why must there be?”
“I mean, you could be on the cover ofVoguewhen you roll out of bed.”
“I could not.”
“Sure you could.” He shrugged. “Tell me, there must be something.”
“I don’t see why there should be.”
He raised his eyebrows.
I laughed. “I’m perfectly comfortable in my skin, but…”
“But?” He raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t like my second toes.”
“What? Why?” He studied my trainers.
“They’re longer than my big toe, I don’t like that.”
“Let me see.”
“What? No!”
He laughed and hooked his arm behind my knees, spun me so I was sitting sideways on the bench and my legs were overhis lap. “I need to see this imperfection for myself. It will prove you’re human and not some Greek goddess come back to life.”
“I am no goddess.” I gripped his thick biceps for balance as he undid my trainers and dropped them to the ground. He tugged off my short socks.
“Fuck me!” He stared at my feet. “That is something else. What a freak!”
“Hey, stop it.” I laughed. “It’s not that bad.”
“You’ll have to donate these to a museum or something when you die. Scientific research and all that.”
I laughed harder and wriggled. “Stop it.”
He caught me in the curl of his arm and pulled my chest to his. “For the record, I like your toes, they’re the sweetest toes I’ve ever seen.” His smile dropped a little, and he ran his hand up my left shin, over my knee and to my thigh.
I looped my arm around his neck and stared into his blue eyes.
“What I’d really like to do is kiss them, start there, then kiss you all over, right up to your mouth, leaving not one inch of flesh unexplored.”
A delicious tremble went up my spine. I remembered his tongue between my legs. “You can do that.”
