The liquor has all but left my head, leaving a raw sense of calm I have never felt before. I expect the familiar pound of a headache against my skull. Instead I am inviting Devon into my bed as if it's the most natural thing in the world to do.
It's stupid is what it is. I'm not this person, I don't invite play boys into my bed. I'm a nester, he's very much not a nester.
He is hesitant as he watches me pull back the blanket and pat the mattress beside me, but he shrugs off his jacket and climbs into the bed beside me. I try to hide my smile by biting the corner of my mouth but I think he saw it replying instead with his own smile. A smile that would explain how he gets so many girls, it melts even the coldest of hearts.
We settle in and the show starts again, it's the best episode. I wait patiently for the scene where Dean screams he's scared after seeing a cat in a locker and laughter escapes me. I'm silenced almost immediately though when I look to my side to see Devon watching me instead of the TV.
His eyes are searching, and a wave of paralyzing heat courses through me, a feeling I haven't felt in so long. I lean towards him bringing my lips just an inch infront of his, waiting to see if he closes the gap. Our eyes still locked on each other.
All breath leaves my lungs the moment he does what I had hoped he would and gently presses his lips against mine. It's not a particularly heated kiss, more of a test of boundaries. I cannot stop the moan that escapes my lips causing them to open, he's quick though and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between them.
He's not demanding or forceful in his movements, just exploring and dare I say enjoying the feeling of our tongues gliding against each others.
I angle my head to deepen the kiss and find myself bringing my hands to his body, one snaking behind his head to thread into his dark brown hair. The other planted firmly on his rock hard chest. I can feel the thundering of his heart underneath my palm and it lights a fire in my core. A throbbing need settling between my legs.
I should be thinking that I promised myself to stay away from the hockey team, or that it's so soon since him, or that I just don't do this. I don't hook up on first dates, if you can even call that a date. I just can't bring myself to care about any of that though, not with his scent raging havoc on my senses threatening to make me lose my damn marbles.
His hand settles on my hip where he gently grips, I know what he wants and I should stop it here. I should climb off him, say thank you and ask him to leave. But I won't. Instead I pull my lips from his and move to straddle his lap.
He sucks in a breath as I settle on top of him, feeling his cock hard against his jeans. I want to grind down against it and feel his length against my quickly dampening core. I don't get a chance to before Devon clears his throat and looks at me.
"Tillie." His tone is not heated, or passioante, it's a tone of voice that accompanies the words I don't want to hear right now. My heart drops as he utters the words "this isn't a good idea."
I quickly pull myself off his lap and climb off the bed wrapping my arms around myself as embarrassment washes over me. Tears burning behind my eyes.
"Tillie, I like you..." I cut him off before he can finish whatever bullshit he was going to muster. I'm such an idiot, two days of me feeling knotted up inside thinking maybe someone like Devon Taylor was into me. I obviously built it up in my head.
"Devon, please just go home." I don't even look at him instead staring at the floor.
Frustration laces his words as he tries to explain himself but if I am being honest, I don't hear a single word he's saying. I just want him to leave so I can cry into my pillow.
He reaches for my hand but I take a step backwards, "please just go."
No other words are spoken as he pulls his shoes on, puts on his jacket and slips quietly out my bedroom door.
Leaving me alone, embarrassed, and angry with myself.
------
The next morning I sit at the kitchen island nursing a soggy bowl of cereal, wallowing in my own self pity.
Crystal comes in behind me placing her arms around my shoulders leaning into my ear. "Are you okay? Do I need to commit homicide? Because I will."
A faint smile graces my lips, "you've been watching too many true crime shows."
"They help me sleep."
I laugh, "of course they do."
While I shovel another spoonful of soggy cheerios into my mouth Crystal continues to pepper me with questions. Did I sleep with him, did we kiss, was he as good in bed as everyone raves, did I get him number? I denied everything because it's easier then telling her the truth. In fact it's almost terrifying how comfortable I am hiding things from her.
She's not buying it and I don't exactly understand how she's so perceptive. I don't have the time for her verbal onslaught though, lucky for me it's Sunday which means I get to have my weekly dinner with my dad.
Aftwr choking down the last spoonful of cereal and rinsing out my bowl I leave a very clearly annoyed Crystal in the kitchen I make my way back upstairs to my room, staring at my bed like it is the one that caused me pain. I should have known better, I do know better. I can blame it on liquid stupidity right? Even if it's just a small amount. In reality after spending my morning thinking I realized Devon was right to stop us. As much as I didn't want him to. I'm just embarrassed.
I shower, change, then spend probably way too many hours working on school work before I finally leave the comfort of my bedroom again to go home.
I'm sure lots of people would be confused to find out I live off campus in a house with 4 other girls, paying an exorbitant amount of money on rent when I could just live at home with my dad. With mom gone and my sister, the house feels emptier, more hallow. I love my dad beyond words but he's the world's worst conversationalist. Living at that house would only breed misery.
I pull into the driveway and stare at the large house before me. He should have sold it after my mother left, the only reason he bought the damn house was to please her. It's not what she needed, but he couldn't see that. In the end she put herself first and left; now happily single and living her best life. My dad however hasn't even changed, it should be sad but he was always married to his job. That marriage lasted.
I jog up the front stairs and open the front door, hearing the familiar skidding noise of Moose's nails against the hardwood floor. My dad's dog is a permanent puppy I swear, he's ten and still runs like he's six months old.
"Hello!" I yell while I give Moose his regular greeting of scratches and kisses on his golden face.
"Tille-billy, so glad you're here." He knows I hate the nickname but still insists on calling ne it, claiming it's his right as a father to embarrass his daughter with bad nicknames. I'm sure there are worst things.
His voice had carried down the hallway telling me he is in the kitchen, a female voice is mixed with his and I am shocked to find my sister leaning against the kitchen island.
"Gemma?"
"TILL!" She screams as she run over to wrap her slender arms around me. I hug her back needing the hug more then she'll ever know.
I pull back taking her in, she looks a hell of a lot better then the last tike I saw her. Her natural golden blonde hair cascades down her back, her green eyes sparkle with clarity now that she's finally sober. We don't really look alike anymore since her nose job, but that's not her fault. I guess when you piss off a drug dealers girlfriend it can result in a shattered nose. She had to have a full reconstruction done.
"Dad was telling me you've caught the eye of one of his players." She says quietly to me as she pulls away. A smug ass grin slapped onto her tanned face.
My eye winden in shock as I glace between her and my dad. Then I shake my head remembering I'm supposed to play it down.
"Not really." I say trying to brush it off, not wanting to talk about Devon.
"Liar. Dad said he couldnt keep his eyes off you the entire game." She's so painfully blunt it hurts sometimes, she gives no quarter and allows no wiggle room to glaze over the truth.
"Okay, I may have met Devon Taylor and hung out once, it's not going to happen again, end of story." I'm praying that's enough to satisfy Gem but it's probably not.
My dad decides to chime in, "Devon's a good boy, you should give him a chance."
"You know why I don't dad." I fire back. Forgetting that my sister is stood right beside me.
"Just because I had my fun with the team doesn't mean you can't." I expected her to be offended by my words, instead she's proud. The girl has no shame in her game and I see my dad visibly cringe as he remembers the horrors that plagued his team two years ago. Teammates scrapping on the ice over my sister, bar brawls over her, the sti issue. To say it was a cluster fuck is an understatement.
"I don't need to have fun, thank you very much."
She let's out an exaggerated sigh and throws up her hands as if in defeat.
They don't really know about him and I am thankful for that. My dad is always so wrapped up in the team that he's never bothered to pay attention to my personal life outside of my grades and making sure my bills are paid. Unlike my mom I learned to live with the fact that to my dad work always came first. I mean don't get me wrong as a kid it hurt when my dad wouldn't make the time but as I got older I just stopped expecting as much from him. He can always live up to expectations that don't exist.
We all sit down at the dinner table and begin to dish out steak with baked potato and salad. My dad cracking open a beer and taking a long pull before turning to me.
"What did you think of the game last night?"
"It was good, D was a little off. I noticed a lot of calls for offside as well. They still won though." It's really the only thing we can talk about.
"Well if my star defenseman wasn't spending so much time staring into the stands our defense might not have been so off." He's teasing me.
"Perhaps you should make him pay for that in practice tomorrow." I quip.
"What do you have in mind?" He muses.
I place my fork to my mouth pondering all the things that would make him sweat and suffer. "Parachute drills."
He only laughs, most of the guys hate resistance training, which is why it's perfect.
"You two are lame as hell." My sister interjects laughing. I join her because she's not wrong. It might be the only thing we bond over, but at least it's something.
--
Before leaving I give my dad a final hug goodbye.
"I really wish you'd come by one of the practices sometime." His voice gives away his sadness. I used to sneak into the practices when I was in highschool, I'd take notes on what every player was weak on and give it to my dad. I was really good at it too, but once Gem started sleeping with the players I didn't want anyone to assume I was like her, so I stopped going, started using my moms last name on social media, and didn't wave to my dad at the games. I wanted to protect him too, last thing we needed was people saying his other daughter is out to ruin the team again.
"Maybe one day, okay?" I offer the false hope. I know it's bad of me but I can't help it.
I leave with my belly full and my heart heavy. Devon Taylor has rippled too much of my life by stepping into that laundromat.