More indeed. One soft kiss is simply not enough. I lean in, tilting my head, perfecting our connection. Hailey exhales, her warm breath caressing my skin. She tastes of champagne and lipstick, my two favorite flavors. I touch my tongue to her lower lip, asking for more. My chair creaks as I lean closer to her, but I barely register the sound as she opens for me.
I taste her, then break out in goose bumps everywhere. It’s been so long since I felt like this—eager and desired. When two soft hands land on my chest, my body lights up like a flare.
Below us, the orchestra kicks in to a faster rhythm and the chorus raises its voice in song. I kiss her again and again. We don’t stop until the audience breaks into sudden applause, startling us apart.
“BRAVO!” yells Blake. “And of course I mean you two. Who could watch the opera with all that nekkin’ right in front of me?”
Hailey’s eyes are a little wide, and a flush has crept across the exposed skin of her long neck. I wink at her to let her know she can feel free to ignore my teammate. She seems to pull herself together, joining in the applause for the performance we’ve just ignored.
My tux pants are now uncomfortably tight, and the night stretches before me like a long walk through the desert without a drink of water. I have to survive more opera after the intermission, and then a cocktail party with the team owner and his stuffy philanthropist friends.
If I’m lucky I can get a few more of those kisses in the taxi home. I take Hottie’s hand in mine and give it a squeeze.
Did I mention I’ve got it bad?
Ten
No Wonder I’m Divorced
Hailey
The day after the opera, Matt flies off to the West Coast with his team on a seven-day road trip. And Rufus is staying at the doggy ranch, so I won’t see either of them or set foot in Matt’s apartment for at least a week.
Jenny almost murders me when I tell her how I feel about his departure. “I’m a little relieved,” I admit as we wait for our drinks at the coffee shop.
“That makes no sense,” she sputters. “Why would you be relieved?” Her eyes narrow. “Unless you had sex all night long and need a break. It’s been a while for you, right? Your stamina might need work.”
My face, neck, and lots of other parts flush when she says this. “There was no sex.” But there would have been if I were braver.
My friend chews her lip. “Did you chicken out?”
“Well…” It really depends on your viewpoint. “He was a gentleman. The car brought us first to my place, even though it’s pretty far out of the way. He kissed me goodnight, and then the car took him home.”
“Oh. My. God.” Jenny swallows roughly. “You didn’t invite him in? The man rode with you all the way out to Yonge and Eglinton and you said, ‘Thanks for the opera, see you later?’”
Even the grumpy barista is eyeing me over the milk fluffer, a disbelieving expression on his pimply face. “It was our first date,” I protest. “I wasn’t going to invite him in.”
Jenny yanks our two cups off the counter and marches toward the door. I pause to tip the barista and then follow her out.
She’s waiting outside with a stern expression on her pretty face. “Let me get this straight. Your lifelong crush wanted to peel you out of my sparkly dress and do the horizontal pachanga, but you sent him home?”
Pretty much.
I remove my coffee cup from Jenny’s hand and take a scorching sip just to avoid answering her. After the curtain fell on the opera, Matt led me downstairs for food, more wine, and small talk with Blake, Jess, and Wesmie. Then the elderly team owner approached, and Matt made a point of complimenting his choice of operas.
The moment the man moved away from us, Matt breathed a sigh of relief. “I have fulfilled my duties this evening. Shall we go?”
So we got in the car together, where Matt kissed the daylights out of me all the way home.
The memory of his hot, eager mouth on my neck gives me an inappropriate flutter down below. In fact, the ride home was basically the hottest sexual experience of my life, and that’s without anyone rounding any bases at all.
He didn’t pressure me, though. When I shakily thanked him for a lovely evening, his smile was warm and happy. “See you soon, Hottie. Plan on it.”
The problem? Those words are as terrifying to me as they are thrilling. Matt makes me crazy, and not just in a good way. When I’m around him, I feel giddy and weak-kneed, but also nervous and uncertain. I don’t have experience with men. I have experience with man, as in, one man. Jackson. I’m not sure if the nerves I feel with Matt are normal, or a sign that maybe he’s a bit too much for me.
“So now what happens?” Jenny demands. “Are you getting another at-bat?”
“Maybe?” I guess. “If he’s the type to be pissed off that I didn’t put out after a long evening of opera, then I haven’t missed a thing.”
She makes a choking sound. “Not true. You missed a trip to pound town with the hottest body on the best hockey team in the world.”
Right. Except for that.
When Jenny and I arrive at the office five minutes later, it’s already chaos, even at nine in the morning. The holidays are approaching, so Fetch is seeing an uptick in shopping business. I welcome the distraction, and lose myself in the work.
The next few days are filled with petty emergencies and meetings with our principal developer. Techie Tad swings by to help with the integration of our new app. He’s wearing his Toronto cap and asks me out to coffee again, but before he can even get the sentence out, Jackson yells for me from the other room.
“Sorry,” I say, squeezing Tad’s elbow as I run past. “We’ll grab one sooner or later.” Though I still don’t know if I’m flattered or insulted by his fake Toronto loyalties. On one hand, it’s sweet. On the other hand, I don’t want anyone forsaking their team to win my favor.
I spend an afternoon finalizing our holiday promotions with Jackson, and then coding them into our website in my office. It’s not the most stimulating part of my week, and my mind keeps wandering back to the opera and the first time Matt kissed me. The soft huff of his breath against my lips, followed by the brush of his lips over mine...
By my calculations, my last first kiss was over a decade ago. Maybe that’s why Matt’s kiss lit me up so much?
And—this is terrible—I don’t actually remember my first teenage kiss from Jackson. I can’t tell you where we were or whether or not I liked it.
No wonder I’m divorced.
Matt’s kiss, on the other hand, keeps sneaking up on me at odd moments. As I wait for a file to load, I recall the sensation of his big hand cupping my thigh. And as Dion tries to explain to me why we can’t order the imported tea that a new customer demands, I have a sudden, urgent memory of Matt’s tongue in my ear on the taxi ride home.
“Are you okay, Hailey?” Dion asks.
My attention snaps back to the man in my doorway. “Fine!” I say quickly. “So, uh, there’ll be a delay?” I try to remember what we were discussing.
“Yeah. He’s not happy, but I told him he could talk to you if he had questions.”
“Right! Well done. Anything else?”
Dion gives me a patient smile. “The unlabeled boxes are piling up in the hallway again. Have a look when you get a second.”