Page 84 of Practice Makes Perfect
twenty-one
LINC
I’m practicallysprinting away from Em’s dorm. Or, more accurately, I’m walking at an extremely brisk pace that borders on jogging while trying to maintain the appearance of someone who is definitely not fleeing a situation—like being naked in bed with a hot chick who desperately wants to please me…
My heart hammers against my ribs as I put more distance between myself and what just happened in her bedroom. The image of her—face flushed, lips parted, eyes locked on mine as she came—is burned into my retinas. Every time I blink, there she is.
Fuck.
The night air is sharp enough to bite, a small mercy as it cools my overheated skin. I didn’t even grab my jacket when I bolted out of her place like it was on fire. And it might as well have been, with how hot things got, but I know that if I’d stayed a moment longer it would have become an inferno.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I came to teach her about self-pleasure. Educational. Straightforward. The kind of thing I should be able to handle without crossing any lines. And yet here I am, hurrying away before I did what I really wanted to do—pull her against meafter she came, kiss her senseless, curl around her, and fuck her brains out.
What happened to the casual, no-strings-attached sex coach… thing?
I cut through the quad, keeping my head down in case I run into anyone from the team. The last thing I need is to explain why I look like I’ve seen a ghost. But, if nothing else, the brisk chill is doing wonders for my raging hard on, even as I mentally beat myself into a pulp for falling for her.
Because that’s what’s happening, isn’t it?
I’m falling for Em.
And judging by the way she looked at me tonight, with such trust and something deeper that scared the shit out of me, I’m almost certain she’s developing feelings too. And that is the thing we explicitly promised wouldn’t happen.
I was so goddamn confident we could maintain that boundary. Like an idiot. Like a complete fucking moron who thought he could spend time with someone as sincere and genuine as Em and not feel something. But that’s the kicker, isn’t it?
Ican’tget feelings for her.
I haven’t gotroomfor a girlfriend.
Not with everything else weighing on me.
Hockey. Classes. Mom bullshit. Team bullshit.Mikebullshit.
Signing up for any more emotional load would be like standing on the edge of a cliff and taking one more step. And because of that I know, no matter how much I might want Em to know my feelings, to admit them will send everything into a spiral.
And I don’t want to hurt her, either. Her inexperience means her first real relationship will inevitably matter more to her, and I’m afraid of the damage I could cause if this goes beyond ouroriginal agreement. Because I’mnotthe guy she should have her first proper, adult relationship with.
I’m the campus man whore for a reason.
I reach my apartment building and trudge up the steps, still replaying the whole scene with Em. Me watching her touch herself. Her watching me. The way she arched her back when she came. The startled gasp that escaped her lips. Her hand reaching for me…
God, that’s going to power my dreams forweeks.
Starting in about 5 minutes, when I lock myself in my room and let off some steam… so to speak… and—not for the first time over the past few weeks—I’m glad Mike won’t be home. I’ve barely seen him, at home or at hockey, in a week, and that’s just fine by me.
Because despite his cryptic ‘good game’ text after the game, he’s been an ass.
When I reach the top of the steps, I’m so consumed by this mental replay of the night with Em that I barely register the voice calling my name until it’s practically shouted in my ear.
“Seriously, Linc? Third time, man.”
I jerk my head up to find Mike on the stairs behind me, looking at me with a mixture of amusement and concern. For a second, I think I’m hallucinating. I haven’t seen him for days or spoken to him in weeks, yet here he is?
Talking to me like nothing happened?
“Where the hell have you been?” I ask, my voice sharper than intended. “You missed three practices and a game, man. Even if you’re pissed at me, the rest of the guys deserve a hell of a lot better than a captain who’s absent for no goddamn reason…”
