Page 131 of Pucking Matt
“Any time,” I say, glancing up at her. The air is thick between us. I’m thinking about her nipples in my hoodie, and Goddamn it, I need to stop thinking about hooking up with her.
She turns on her heel and walks to the bathroom. I stand, pulling off my shirt. I take the shirt I had on earlier and put it on.
When she walks out, she hands me the hoodie. My newly prized possession.
I ask, “Are you ready?”
“Give me like ten more minutes,” she says.
I nod, lying on the comfortable bed. I watch my phone as she sits in front of the mirror and puts on makeup. She brushes her hair and applies lotion that smells like cookies.
“Ready,” she says after grabbing her purse.
I stand, following her out the door.
“Do you have the room key?” she asks.
I nod, flashing it before putting it in my pocket.
She walks alongside me as I reach for her hand.
She chuckles. “I forgot we are dating. Okay,” she inhales. “I’m in love. Love and hate have the same feeling…almost. Is that some bullshit you made up?” she asks.
I laugh. “It’s true.”
“Okay. And I should be a bitch.”
We reach the elevators. I press the button. “Here,” I say, pointing at the elevator that opens. When we step in, I hold her hand up. “Amber. Maybe just be professional.”
“Professional?” she questions.
I nod. “Like you're in the office in your power suit. I know you’re not afraid of anyone.”
She offers a smile. “Good point.”
The hotel restaurant is right next to the pool. It’s open with nice lighting and a dark style.
I approach the hostess stand. “I’m here with the James Holmes party.”
The hostess nods. “Right this way.”
Amber signals for me to walk first, so I take a step and then she stops me with my arm, rolling her eyes, and walks off. I halt with a smile on my lips. She got me. I follow them through the restaurant. My mom and her husband are already here.
“Your face,” my mom says, standing. She grabs my shoulders, ignoring Amber.
“Mom, this is Amber. Amber, my mom and James.”
My mom doesn’t look at her.
James acknowledges Amber. He sticks out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Amber.”
“Hockey did this?” my mom asks.
I nod.
“Honey, it’s bruising.”
“Under the bandage?” I ask.
