"Shit..." I whisper. "Mhm," Nathan yawns and sits up. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, and I stare at his naked chest. "Do you want breakfast?" "Umm..." "What was that?" Fuck, my heart is racing, and my IQ is dropping. "N-Nothing... I'm just... Shit... You're... You're..." Gorgeous. "I'm what?
Alice A few weeks have passed since the party. I've become best friends with Winnie, and we hang out at the ice hockey rink daily. I'm still in the fan club for The Fighting Devils, but it seems one player, in particular, is set on ignoring me. Nathan Douglas. The night I spent with him made me
"So, Aubrey," Winnie flashes her a smile. "I heard you're dating Nathan? Is that true?" Immediately, Aubrey blushes. She looks adorable. Red hair and a thousand freckles over her face. She is a gorgeous, tall woman. I bet she looks good standing next to Nathan, who must be close to seven feet tall.
Shit. Why does this make me kind of happy? "Why are you being like this?" Aubrey glares at Winnie. "See, this is why you and I aren't friends anymore, Winnie! You just wish to keep all the guys to yourself! That's what everyone says! Winnie is popular with all the guys, but she doesn't like to sh
Alice Friday has come, and I'm wearing a winter jacket while Winnie and I are waiting for the hockey game to begin. The stadium is filled with people. Some are hardcore dedicated fans; others are only here because college hockey games are rumored to be violent. Or, at least, that's what Winnie
Helmet. Heavy equipment. That hockey stick is held tight by his big hands. He slides forward as if dancing, chased by another player. It baffles me how he can be huge yet move with this elegant precision. Every little move is calculated. I can tell from looking at his focused eyes. "Oh-my-god,
Alice "Won't Nathan laugh if I give him this thing?" I ask with a funny feeling in my stomach. I can't tell if it's fear or excitement. I've drawn a card with various cartoon characters. One of them says they are sorry, and the other holds up a bouquet of roses while asking to please go out with t
I tug on my dress, trying to fix it so that it covers my bra while we are standing in line. "I'm more pad than boobs," I whisper-complain over to Winnie and grimace. "My breast are rising like fresh dough in the oven after borrowing your push-up bra." Winnie giggles. "Stop it! You look sexy!" I