Page 106 of You're The One
“I’m calling it. You’re going to be the first to have sex with him.”
The firstdoes something weird to my stomach. A sharp twist of emotion. First, because it implies he’s going to sleep with the other women. Which, of course he is. That’s literally the whole point of the suite dates in the final week.
But also, because Dominic would be my actual first. And I still haven’t told him about my experience in that arena. Or lack thereof.
“No, we didn’t kiss,” I add, continuing the string of dishonesty.
“Ugh. He’s so weird, right?” she mutters, irritation fueling her attempt to take the puck.
“He’s not weird.” I defend him before I can think it through. Again.
She eyes me, interest piqued. “I thought of all the girls, you’d agree with me—given your history and all.”
I don’t think I’m ever going to live down my initial dislike for Dom.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen a season where the lead is such a prude. Not even a kiss?” She digs again for the puck.
“He’snota prude.” I have firsthand knowledge of that now.
No. Do not think about last night.
“Whatever,” she scoffs, losing an edge.
I manage to take possession of the puck and move away from the boards. Breaking away isn’t hard with her skating still being shaky at best.
I have the puck on my stick and I’m skating into the zone… Which zone? Not a clue. My interest in hockey extends about as far as enjoying the rush of the crowd at a live game and whatever Ryan has explained, filtered through my very limited retention.
But I do have the advantage of being decent on skates.
When Ryan showed an interest in hockey, our parents signed me up for skating lessons, too. I can’t say much stuck, but it does feel a bit like riding a bike. Once you get over the fear of immediately falling on your ass, the movements come like second nature.
The guys aren’t contributing much to the game, acting more like coaches… if coaches laughed constantly at how terrible youare. They’re technically playing with us, but mostly so stray pucks don’t ricochet halfway across the rink.
Without them, we’d probably be here for decades before anyone managed to score. Thanks to them, and the goalies laughing too hard to stop the shots, the score is 2–1. Our team is up by one.
I pass the blue line, heading toward the goal, hoping to stretch the lead. That’s when Victoria, with Summer gripping her hips and propelling her forward, comes barreling up on my left. Summer gives Victoria a hard shove—no, really, she launches her like a human cannonball—and I have zero chance of dodging the hit.
“What are you doing? You’re on my tea?—”
My shout cuts off as I go down. Hard. Slamming into the boards before crumpling to the ice with Victoria sprawled on top of me.
My first thought:ow.
Followed closely by:Dominic’s going to go full mother hen and ruin all my hard work at playing it cool.
Victoria scrambles back until she’s sitting on the ice with her skates stretched out in front of her. “I’m sorry. We got overzealous. Are you okay?”
I don’t get a chance to answer before a spray of ice hits me. Dom comes to a hard stop and immediately falls to his knees. “Are you okay?”
Summer is right behind him, asking the same.
Dom doesn’t wait for a response; his hands move over me in quick, clinical sweeps, searching for signs of injury.
“Did you hit your head?” He taps unnecessarily at my helmet.
“No.” I bat his hand away. “I’m fine. Really.”
Summer helps Victoria up as another pair of skates glides over. Ryan’s voice comes from my left. “You all right?”
