Page 45 of Daring the Hockey Player
It's late, well past midnight, and I should probably call it a night, but I don't want the night to end. It's only just gotten started with Jasper.
"Do you have a game tomorrow?" I ask.
"Practice day. What about you? Early classes?" he asks.
"Not too early." I have class at nine in the morning, but I don't want him to send me off to bed so that I get enough sleep. I'm not a kid.
There are two outdoor chairs on the roof, and he pulls me to sit in his lap, his arms around my waist.
I exhale a nervous breath.
Is he going to kiss me?
I told him that I wanted him to be my first kiss, that I wanted to know how to properly kiss a boy, and while he didn't necessarily agree to it, tonight has been a blur of lines being crossed.
Why take me to see the city and the stars at his place if he wasn't interested in me? Why lead me on?
Unless this is what he does with all his friends? Doubtful. There's no way that he's bringing his teammates up here, pulling them on his lap to sit with him.
I tense, and he reaches for the lapels of his jacket, tugging them closer together to help keep me warm. "You're shivering." He finds the zipper at the bottom and zips the jacket around me.
I am shivering, but it's not from the cold. It's chilly outside, but my nerves are making me tremble.
At least he can't seem to tell the difference. I should be grateful, but my stomach is somersaulting.
"You make me nervous," I whisper, hoping that if I voice my anxiety, it'll cease to have power over me.
Jasper quirks a grin. "You don't have to be nervous around me. We're just friends."
I exhale a short breath, but it's loud enough that he raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to speak. "I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl on the roof," I say.
The smile grows on his face, and he pushes the long strands of my hair behind my ears, pulling it back into a ponytail. He fists my hair, holding my head up, my eyes meeting his, keeping me entirely in place and at his mercy.
Dare I say that I like the way it feels, giving him control over me. He lets his fingers caress my head, my hair, and then he leans in, his breath teasing my lips before he leans closer to my ear. "Babe, you were the prettiest girl at the bar, but I won't kiss you."
The air feels snatched from my lungs, and I'm grateful that I'm seated, even if it's on Jasper's lap, because otherwise, I'd have lost my balance. The room spins, and I'm trying everything in my power to catch my breath.
What am I doing?
Why do I keep throwing myself at him when he's clearly not interested? Sure, he thinks I'm attractive, but there are tons of other attractive women he’s more interested in, and they aren’t me.
I should stand and move off his lap. The red alarm bells in my mind are going off, warning me that sitting on his lap is dangerous right now.
But I can’t bring myself to move, not even an inch. I’m frozen. My breathing comes out raspy and fast, nervous and panicky.
“Of course, you won’t,” I say and take several deep breaths before rocking my hips against his as I try to stand, but his hands on my hips won’t let me get up.
And now what I feel isn’t just his hands, but something else nestled under my ass as it pokes me.
My eyes widen, and I glance back at Jasper. "The prettiest girl at the bar doesn't do it for you? Well, I'm sure whomever you're fantasizing about, you can call her or use your hand." I untangle from his grasp, and he lets me go.
I hurry down the stairwell to the first floor and head outside, grabbing a cab. There's one pulling up just as I step outside.
"Amber Ryan?" the driver asks as I open the back door.
"That's me," I say.
Jasper must have called for a cab. Rather than chase after me, he's sending me home. Well, at least I know where his priorities lie.
