Page 68 of Taking Sides

“Right.” Her eyes spark with heat.

“Maybe it’s your thing too.” I step forward and wrap my arms around her lower back.

“Currently, my thing is you.”

“What a coincidence.” I pull her flush against me and drop my lips to hers.

She melts into me, then giggles. “You taste like chocolate and sour gummies.”

“So I taste delicious?”

Her response is a murmur and then I sweep my tongue into her mouth. I step backward until my back finds the kitchen counter. Resting against it, I widen my stance to put me closer to Whitney’s height. Her hands rest against my chest as she kisses me back with the same intensity making my blood buzz with need.

I hum into her mouth. “I promised we’d watch your movie.”

“Only Johnny Castle could pull me away.” She presses her lips to mine one more time before she steps back.

We settle on the couch again—this time in the middle of the big sectional. Whitney is giddy as the movie starts. I’m having more fun watching her than I am whatever is happening on-screen, but she keeps looking over for my reaction, so I force myself to watch.

We’re only about ten minutes in when Whitney readjusts her position so she’s sitting closer with one leg draped between mine. She glances over and smiles at me, then stares back at the TV. A minute later, she follows that up with draping a hand on my inner thigh. All pretense of paying attention to anything but her is gone. Still, for her benefit, I try to keep my thoughts and body in check.

Not an easy feat. Especially when her fingers absently brush higher. She’s about three inches from my dick, and it is all too eager. I’m reciting the alphabet backward slowly, hoping that if I just stop thinking about her touching me, I might be able to regain some composure.

Whitney seems completely oblivious to my discomfort. God, why wouldn’t she be? She wanted to watch her favorite movie and I’m over here imagining her naked with that perfect mouth wrapped around my⁠—

“I changed my mind.” She straddles me before I’ve processed her words, but as her weight presses down on my crotch, words aren’t really necessary.

“But what about Johnny and Baby?” I ask, not all that convincingly, considering I’m already lifting my hips up to get more friction and sliding my hands under her shirt.

“We can restart it later.” She moves over me slowly, eyes fluttering closed. “Or tomorrow.”

“We can watch it as many times as you want,” I promise. And hopefully they all end like this.

SEVENTEEN

“Oof. That’s brutal,” D-Low says as Stanton scores another goal. There’s a collective groan from the crowd as parents and students at Moonshot High School watch their team fall behind by another goal.

My stomach twists as I watch Whitney on the bench. She claps her hands twice, trying to rouse her guys, then yells something out at the ice. A couple of them perk up, and their expressions show a renewed determination, but most look like they’ve given up.

“They’re playing scared,” I note quietly so only D-Low can hear.

He nods his agreement. “There’s some real talent out there, but man, I’ve never seen so many turnovers.”

He barely gets the words out when Stanton intercepts another long pass.

“Come on, Jonathon!” one particularly annoyed fan yells from our right. Judging by the frustration on his face and the way he singled out one player, I’m going to guess it’s his dad.

I remember the kid from camp. He’s the one with red hair they called Pepper. He got rattled easily, but otherwise, he was a good puck handler and had a nice shot.

Stanton scores another goal, and while the team celebrates, Whitney subs out fresh guys. Pepper skates for the bench, head down. Landon falls beside him, also taking a seat, saying something to his teammate that has Pepper’s mouth in a tight line as he nods. Landon cuffs him on the shoulder as a sign of encouragement before Whitney steps up behind them, blocking my view as she speaks to them.

“Tough job,” D-Low says, reading my thoughts exactly.

“Yeah.” I wish I knew what to tell her or how I could help in some way.

The final buzzer sounds, and there’s lackluster applause from all around the arena as the JV game comes to an end 6–0.

“I’m going to grab something to drink.” D-Low stands. “You want anything?”