Page 40 of Rookie Moves

Then my eyes land on the latest one that was sent fifteen minutes ago, and it’s like I forget to breathe.

Tyler

Party tonight at mine. Starts at 8PM. I’ll give you the signal when it’s time for your next lesson.

The conversation from last night comes barreling to the forefront of my mind, and I sit up so fast the room goes a little blurry.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

I got so caught up in the moment last night, being so close to Tyler, talking about our childhoods, that I let slip that I was ready for my next lesson. I don’t think it was a lie because I’m pretty sure I’m ready. For what exactly, I don’t know, but this weekend has been life-changing in more ways than one, and the way Tyler makes me feel has me wanting to chase that feeling.

To do all the things, all at once.

Throwing off my comforter, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and shove my legs into some shorts and pull on a T-shirt, and then cross the hall to Stassie’s room. I knock once, giving her a chance to call out. When there’s no answer, I fling open the door and find her sitting at her desk, large headphones covering her ears as she works away on her laptop.

“Stassie,” I say fairly loudly, but she doesn’t move an inch.

She’s completely zoned into whatever she’s reading on her computer. She doesn’t hear me approaching because the second I shake the back of her chair, she lets out an ear-piercing scream and jumps in her chair. Her headphones clatter to the desk with a thud, and she whirls around on me, holding her ruler between us like she’s ready to strike.

“Holy fucking shit, Colby, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” she curses, gasping for air as she places her other hand on her chest. “Why didn’t you say something instead of scaring me half to death?”

“I did, but you didn’t hear me,” I counter, then eye the ruler still poised in the air. “What were you planning to do with that? Smack the inches right out of me?”

She looks at the ruler like she didn’t realize it was in her hand, then bursts out laughing, tears forming in her eyes. “Oh, Colby. My sweet, innocent boo. There’s so many innuendos I could make right now.”

Confused, I furrow my brows and ask, “What?”

She shakes her head, finally lowering the ruler and tugs the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands to wipe her damp eyes. “Congratulations on your game yesterday. Does this mean you’ll be going to Florida?”

“Thanks, and yeah. We’ll be leaving in like, two weeks, I think.”

“That’s good. I wish I could come, but I don’t like planes.”

“What? Why not?”

“A small, confined space with like, a hundred strangers?” She pulls a soured face and shakes her head. “Absolutely not. Imagine all the germs mixing in the recycled air inside the metal tub.”

I stare at her, words vanishing from my brain. How do you even respond to that?

Ignoring my puzzled expression, she goes on to ask, “So how did this weekend go? Did you and Tyler round any bases?” She wiggles her brows.

“That’s baseball,” I tell her, arching my brows in a duh look.

“I don’t know, boo, they’re all the same to me.”

I shake my head, disappointed she would even compare hockey to baseball when it’s clear that hockey is the superior sport. “I’m going to ignore that you said that.”

She sticks out her tongue, then presses, “Stop avoiding the question.”

“I, uh…” I rub my cheek, suddenly feeling awkward. I take a seat on the edge of her bed and glance down at the bright pink polka dot rug beneath my feet. “Me and Tyler, we… uhhh…”

Sweat covers my palms, and I wipe them down the front of my shorts.

“Did you have sex?” Stassie asks, her voice taking on that soft, encouraging tone when she knows I’m starting to get in my head.

Why am I getting so flustered about it?