Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
“I’m not having sex.”
He sounds dead serious, and I falter for a second. Then it dawns on me. “Oh. We’ve already started the session. Why didn’t you tell me? I should be taking notes!”
A laugh pops out of his mouth. “We haven’t started the session. I’m being serious. I’m celibate.”
“Celibate?”
“Practicing abstinence,” he clarifies.
“I know what celibacy is, Hunter. I just don’t believe you.”
“It’s true.”
“Liar.”
“Honest to God truth.”
“Prove it.”
“How?” Hunter falls back on his elbows, his ripped body shaking with laughter.
I’m about to glare at him for laughing at me when I realize what an impossible demand it was. He can’t prove anything, short of whipping out his dick and having sex with one of those girls over there.
“Okay,” I muse. “I’ll play along. Why are we celibate?”
“We are celibate because we need to focus on the hockey season.”
“You can’t focus on hockey and have orgasms at the same time?”
“Apparently not.”
“Now I’m curious.”
He offers a shrug. “I was kind of an idiot last year. I had this thing for Summer—”
“So what? Everyone loves summer,” I cut in. Where the heck is he going with this?
That gets me a snort. “No, Summer is the blonde I was with earlier.”
“The one who’s dating your friend.”
“Yes. But before she hooked up with Fitz, she and I shared a kiss on New Year’s Eve, and, well, it’s a long story and not very interesting. Basically Fitz said he wasn’t into her and then went behind my back and dated her. I didn’t handle it well.”
“I don’t blame you,” I say, appalled on his behalf. “That goes against the bro code.”
“Right?”
“And you still live with them?”
“Well, yeah. Fitz is a good guy. He was just stupid and in denial about his feelings. Afterward, I was kind of doing my thing and trying to forget about Summer. Basically drinking a lot, sleeping around. But then I ended up sleeping with the girlfriend of an opponent. I didn’t know at the time,” he adds defensively. “We played against his team in our conference finals, and that’s when it all came out. The boyfriend freaked out and broke my wrist.”
“Oh my God.”
“We lost the game and the other team went to the championship and won.” Hunter’s features harden with resolve. “I’m not letting that happen again.”
I chuckle. “I think ‘not having sex’ might be an extreme solution to a simple problem. Here’s an alternative—don’t bang girls with boyfriends.”
“It’s not only that,” he admits. “I’m team captain this year. I want to be a good leader. I want to make up for what happened last year. I think it’s just all-around better if I concentrate on the game and not on chicks or partying.” He reaches into his pocket and checks his phone. “All right, should we do this thing? I’ve got about an hour before I need to go.”
“What’s in an hour?”
“I’m stopping by a teammate’s house.”
I perk up. “The hot one?”
“I’m the hot one, Demi.” Then he winks. “You mean Conor? Yeah, it’s his house, so he’ll probably be there. And don’t you have a boyfriend who I literally met five seconds ago?”
“That doesn’t mean your friend isn’t hot. My girl Pippa liked him.”
“Well, a word of caution—he’s the sex machine that I was last year, so I’d probably steer clear.”
“How long has it been for you?” I can’t help but ask, because curiosity is a bitch.
“Since I fucked someone?”
“No, since you climbed Everest.”
“April. So…what’s that…five months?”
“You poor monk! That’s an eternity!” I tease.
“I know.” He lies down on the grass, using his backpack as a pillow. “It’s awful, Semi. I miss sex.”
“I had sex last night.”
“That’s a cruel thing to say.”
“But it’s the truth,” I protest.
“I just told you about my poor aching balls and you’re bragging about all the action your pussy is getting?” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “How was it?”
“The sex? Pretty good.”
“Start from the beginning,” Hunter orders. “Did he undress you or did you do a striptease for him? Did he—”
I hoot loudly. “Are you trying to live vicariously through me?”
“Yes,” he moans. “I’m not getting any action. I can’t watch porn because someone’s always barging into my room or banging on the door if I dare to lock it—I swear those girls have no decorum. I’m relegated to jerking it in the shower.” He pauses. “Maybe I should look into buying one of those waterproof phones and bring it into the shower? That way I can watch porn and jack off to real-life girls.”
“Those are not real-life girls,” I argue. “Pornography is responsible for creating the most unrealistic expectations of women. Nobody looks like that, and real sex is never like that.”
“What’s real sex like, then?” he challenges.
“Real sex is unscripted. It’s lots of fumbling, and foreheads banging against each other, and awkward positions where your arms and legs get stuck. It’s laughing, cursing, multiple orgasms or no orgasms at all. I mean, it’s fun, but it’s also messy and certainly not perfect.”