Chapter 2
Luke's POV
As the rest of my teammates that came out tonight after the big win make their rounds throughout the club, talking to any hot chick they run into, I just sit at the bar and watch them. Like normal, they toss the extremely young ones my way, and also like normal, I send them on their way and turn back to face the bar, raising my hand to catch Leo's eye, who sighs and gives me a weak smile before sending another beer my way.
Some nights, I play along and talk to the women, or girls I should say, that flirt with me, even though it's completely pathetic, just to avoid the 'Oh God.. he's gay' discussion in the locker room the next day. The guys don't get it. They probably never will.
I've told myself 100 times that it had to be done. That we wouldn't work out together, no matter how much I wanted us to. That for some reason, the world and fate didn't want us together. That both of us were going different directions with our lives. That I couldn't give up hockey, and I couldn't expect her to give up her ambitions. But all of this doesn't make it any easier; She's still the woman that teases me in my dreams and taunts me in my thoughts and memories. She's unavoidable.
Everyone said it would go away, that I'd forget eventually, forget about her and what I thought I had with her, but as far as I can tell, they are all wrong. I can't picture a day in my mind where she's not at least in my head at least once.
Others say that I'm a glutton or punishment, so this is the result. I tell myself that no one can amount to what she is because I feel guilty for what I did and how I did it. They also tell me that she's probably living this great life because I gave her the opportunity to, and she probably doesn't miss me the slightest bit, that I'm probably a vague memory of her past after all of these years. I can only pray they are wrong.
And then there are the rare few that feel sorry for me. They truly think that she's the one for me, or at least my first love, and you never forget those, right? They tell me to look her up, give her a phone call or visit when we're in the area for a game, but it's not that simple. First off, she always did have an attitude, so I have no doubt she'd kick me out on my ass if I just showed up at her house, and secondly, I don't know her phone number and wouldn't know how to get it anyways. Sure, her parents probably still live in the same place, but they probably hate me as much as she does. Or even I do.
I sigh before downing the rest of my beer and then signaling for another one. It's nights like this I just want to forget.
We were sixteen.
We had just won the big game, just got through celebrating our victory which involved drinking of course, and now I was with her. This night couldn't get any better. As I drive up the long drive-way leading to her house, I can't help but take my time, not wanting this night to end. It's been too good so far. Finally reaching her house, I stop and put my truck in park before sighing and turning to look at her. She sits on the opposite side of the truck, wearing my jacket and just starring at me. Neither of us makes a move, so she chuckles and rolls her eyes before crossing the distance between us and moving closer to me. She wraps her hands around my neck, playing with my hair before she presses her lips to mine.
What starts out as a simple goodnight kiss soon escalates into more, and the next thing I know she's crawling into my lap, straddling my legs. She pushes me away from her and into the seat behind me before she starts placing a line of kisses down my jaw. I take a deep breath, trying to not get as worked up about this as I'm sure I'm going to as my hands betray me and work their way up to rest on both sides of her hips, pulling her closer to me. As I pull her lips back up to mine I feel her free hand come to rest on mine, and then place it on her breast. I know I shouldn't, but just like earlier my body does what my mind is screaming me not to, and I can't help but squeeze once, and then twice. She shrugs out of my jacket and then reaches for the hem of her shirt, and it's then that reality hits me.
"Ashlee, we're in your drive-way. Your house is right there," I argue, grabbing onto her hands before she can lift her shirt any higher than her belly button. She smiles down at me with her hair a mess from my hands, and I find myself having to take another deep breath to calm myself down.
"And all of the lights are off," she counters while kissing me again. "No one is awake." She reaches for the hem of her shirt for a second time, and this time I let her take it off, leaving her in just her bra with her boobs at perfect eye level. I take in the sight in front of me, which makes her laugh before she pulls my head up, connecting our lips once again.
"You're dad is going to kill me," I mutter in between kisses. As much as I try not to think about it, anytime she moves I can feel her breasts press against me, and it's got me painfully aware of every movement she makes. She lays down in the seat, pulling me down on top of her and I follow her lead, not giving anything a second thought until her hands reach down for my belt buckle and unclasp it and then start working on the top button of my jeans. I take her hands in mine once again, stopping her from disrobing me again more, knowing I'll be shooting myself tomorrow for this.
"Ashlee, you're drunk. This isn't happening tonight," I rationalize before giving her a quick peck on the lips. She pouts up at me, a look of being not wanted flashing through her eyes which makes me internally laugh. If she only knew... "I want you, I do," I offer before kissing her again and reassuring her. "But not like this," I add in a quieter tone after breaking away from her.
"Actually," she starts before pulling my shirt over my head. "You're the one that's drunk, I actually didn't have anything to drink. So it's like I'm taking advantage of you, right?" She says with a little smirk before pulling my lips down to hers and my hands down to where her bare legs are exposed from the skirt she's wearing. I remain motionless, not daring to reach where I know she wants me to in fear of not being able to stop myself. Not wanting to put up with me anymore, she reaches down herself and slowly slides her panties off. When she reaches for my jeans again, I finally speak up again.
"Ash.." I warn, trying to tell her that she is pushing my limits, and this taunting isn't funny. We've discussed this before, and we both agreed that we weren't ready for sex. Her more so than me, but I was okay with it as much as a teenage boy could be, and I didn't want one night to make her hate me forever.
"Luke, shut up and stop worrying," she says while unzipping my jeans. "I want you to," she adds with a small shrug of her shoulders. Not needing to hear anything more, I kiss her like I've been wanting to all night.
I finish my last beer before turning away from the bar to leave, but a blond bobbing and weaving out of the crowd catches my eye. It can't be her... is it? Is it really that easy? She goes on her way through the crowd and I shake my head at how I let my imagination get the best of me before heading for the door.
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