Page 85 of Kitty Season
Is this real? Are we really doing this? Are we in fact, fucking nuts?
That and a million questions in a similar vein consume my thoughts because we are walking towards and sitting down in a cozy little window booth at Beanz and Bookz. And by we, I mean all three of us. It’s our first official date. Quinn’s jumping out of her skin with happiness, Brady looks like he may vomit, and me? Well let’s say I’m closer to Skip than Quinn, but working my ass off to maintain the cavalier facade expected.
We entered as a threesome, Quinn in the middle holding and swinging both our hands like she’s been part of a throuple all her life and this is an everyday occurrence. She may be the only one here who thinks that.
“Everyone is looking at us,” Skip says through gritted teeth while hiding behind his menu. He’s right. I can feel a million tiny holes being seared into my skin. The urge to turn and glare is strong, but ignoring it all is probably wiser. Kitty was so excited for ourhard launch, as she called it. I don’t want to get in a fight with some ignorant moron and ruin it.
Besides, she’s woman enough to handle it herself.
Leaning into Skip’s shoulder, she distracts him with a quick peck to the lips then plucks the menu from his hands. “Don’t worry, Brades. They’re looking at me, not you.”
“Well that hardly seems fair. We’re all here together.”
“That’s right, we are. So let’s not worry about anyone else. Let them think what they want. We know what we have.”
Brady shakes his head, then leans forward and lets it clunk on the table. “How are you okay with all the attention? I hate it.”
“One, you’re gorgeous and get attention constantly, but you also happen to be too oblivious to notice. And two, I’m not really, but for most of my life Dad’s either been cheered or booed wherever we went. It was ignore or become neurotic.”
“So you took a little from column A and B?” I smirk.
“Exactly. Now shut up and pick what you want to eat. You’ve got a game to get ready for.”
Inspiredby our successful launch date, I decide to take a little public risk of my own. Kind of. There’s no one else in the locker room when I’m taken by the mood, lean in, grab Skip’s chin and kiss him, but there could be at any moment. He’s taken by surprise but into it, moaning so low and dirty I want to drop to my knees.
“So wait. You two are together? But what about Quinn?”
“Yeah, I thought Brady had a boner for Quinn?”
“He’s got a boner for both of them, dumbass. Okay, enough with the moaning already, Basse. Jesus.”
We break apart, Skip brighter than a red Skittle and Shane, Cory, and Paul are watching us at the doors, each with a face twisted into a different state of confusion.
I expect Brady to freak out punch a hole in the wall, or me, but instead he laughs, snakes his hands around my waist and fucking dips me. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, boys.”
Hollers and wolf-whistles ring out, and I’m so fucking happy I got sacked and sent here, I could cry. Obviously because of Quinn and the dick that’s close to dropping me,andwhat we have. But also because tonight, we’re playing in the Frozen Fucking Four.
I’ve only just got back on my feet when the rest of the boys shuffle in, their energy contagious. As an outsider looking in, I never expected the Bears to make it this far without Noah, their famous #13. But they have. In part because of me, but a lot because of Brady. He’s improved each practice, and game, and earned another shutout. Quinny and I couldn’t be prouder. Something she told him repeatedly when she was on her knees for us both this morning.
That image is on repeat in my mind, when Brady, already stripping down to suit up, nudges me in the ribs. “Hey, I know that face, I know that twitch, I know what you’re thinking about. Stop it right now.”
I don’t. Not one second of the time it takes me to kit out. It’s only as I lace up that two things take a fraction of my focus. One, “bunny ears, bunny ears playing by a tree,” and two, the pink haired troll in my pocket.
I’ve wanted to return Poppy to her rightful owner for weeks, but me being the coward that I am, I haven’t had the courage. Especially since we’re in a good place now. I can’t let things go back to how they are. I can’t. But I also can’t keep the troll. And since these few games are the last I’ll play with Skip, and I want to make the most of them, now’s the time.
Lucky for me he’s a superstitious nerd who always has to be on the ice last. I wait with him, abnormal for me as I’m usually one of the first. “Please tell me you’re not gonna try something here,” he whines, low enough that only I can hear. “I cannot get a boner right now.”
The worry on his face has a laugh rattle out of me. “Don’t stress. I’m not going to give you a blow job. But I am giving you this.” I open my clenched palm, hand embarrassingly shaky as though I was handing over a ring not a fucking plastic troll. “I should have returned it a long time ago. I’m sorry that I didn’t.”
His eyes leave mine and pan down, widening when they see the tuft of pink hair. “Poppy?”
Tears well in his eyes and I feel like a bigger prick that I have ever have, and that’s saying something. He really loves this freaking doll. “I found it on the ground my first day here. I can pretend that I didn’t know what it was, but I did, and I’m sorry.”
“If I found one of your comics, I probably would have kept it too,” his voice remains low though we’re alone now.
“No you wouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t.” Blushing, he smiles, and I can’t stop myself. People can see us. I know that, but I don’t care. I lean in and kiss the absolute shit out of him till his helmet slides off the top of his head, thudding against the rubber mat beneath our skates.
