The Boyfriend Zone by Jillian Quinn
“Ican’t believe you talked me into this.” Taylor grips the steering wheel. “Why does Boston have to be so damn far?”
She hates driving, but at least she has a car. I have a license and haven’t driven more than a few hundred miles since I got it my senior year of high school.
“It’s not that far from Philly.”
She gives me an annoyed look. “We’re three hours into a five-hour drive that has turned into longer because of traffic. You better get the best sex of your life or an engagement ring out of this.”
“Maybe you’ll get the best sex of your life instead.”
She cocks her head to me. “What are you talking about?”
“Drake will be there. Duh, silly. He has a crush on you. He asked me about you a while ago.”
She huffs. “Yeah, I know. I’ve talked to him a few times, but he’s acted like a pig every time. So, now I ignore him to see how much it wounds his precious ego.”
I laugh. “Are you into him?”
“Hell, yeah. Have you seen him? I mean, my God, it’s like he bottles up sex and carries it everywhere with him. His arms, those legs… don’t even get me started. He’s like a wall of muscle I want to climb. Drake’s so hot. But guys like him are used to getting what they want, and because of that, he’ll never get me.”
“You are such a cock tease.” I chuckle. “Do you ever have sex with guys or just torture them?”
She switches lanes, her eyes focused on the congested road. “Depends on the guy. They have to work for it. I’m not handing out my donuts to everyone who wants them.”
I snort at her comment. “Donuts? Seriously. You don’t even eat them.”
“I love them. I just don’t eat them.”
“Wouldn’t that make Drake the donut in this situation? You want him, but you won’t eat him.”
She laughs, smacking the wheel. “Good one, Bex.”
“You should try Drake’s donut. Maybe you’ll like his frosting.”
She snorts. “Damn, Bex, look at you. Preston has turned you into a dirty girl.”
We laugh uncontrollably until my stomach hurts and I’m gasping for air. She’s right about Preston changing me. He’s so bad sometimes, and I want to do every bad thing with him.
I grab the bag of Cheetos and tear the package open. “Want one? I hear Cheetos have lots of nutritional value.”
She shakes her head. “They’re all carbs and chemicals.”
I show her the bag. “Look, it says, made with real cheese.”
She giggles. “Right. If you so say. And saturated fat and who knows what else. Why are you eating those things?”
“You can’t go on a road trip without proper snacks.”
She shrugs. “I’m good. I got one tasty donut waiting for me in Boston.”
We break out into a fit of laughter, cracking jokes about the guys all the way to Boston.
* * *
We enter the rink and find seats closest to the Strickland Senators bench. I can’t wait to see the look on Preston’s face when he sees me.
“It’s cold as a witch’s tit in this place.” Taylor zips her North Face jacket and shivers. “How are you so comfortable in here?”
“I’m used to it.”
“I don’t think I could ever adapt to freezing my ass off. I prefer sunshine and margaritas by the pool.”
“That’s because you grew up in California.”
“I’ve lived in Philly for the last three winters. I doubt I will ever get used to it.”
“You got your early acceptance letter to UC Berkeley. You’ll be back to warmer climates in no time.”
She frowns. “I will miss you next year.”
My sadness mirrors hers. “I’ll miss you, too, Tay. But we have to grow up and become adults.”
“I am an adult,” she says. “But not like a real adult. I just look like one.”
I chuckle at her silliness. “I don’t want things to change.”
“Me either.” She pats my arm and nods toward the players skating onto the ice. “Maybe you’ll end up with Preston in whatever city selects him.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” I smile at the thought of spending the rest of my life with Preston.
Even though it hasn’t been that long, I have a gut feeling about Preston and me. We will make it. I just know it.
“You could be a hockey wife.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “That would be fun.”
“I can’t follow him around from city to city. If you rely on a man for everything, you won’t have anything if he walks away. I’m not saying Preston will leave me, but anything can happen. I have to at least get my foot in the door at a sports management agency or do something sports related. Otherwise, my four years of college will be a complete waste.”
“You have a very hunky admirer waiting for you to notice him.” Taylor points at the glass.
A very shocked Preston stands on the ice, his gloved hand pressed to the Plexiglas, lips parted. I wave, and the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile. He tilts his head to the side, gesturing for me to meet him where the players exit the ice.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Taylor.
Preston waits for me, the door propped open, dressed in full gear. He pulls out his mouth guard and says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were staying home and hanging out with Taylor.”
“I am with Taylor. Just not at home.”
“I can’t believe you drove all the way up here. It’s a long ride to only stay the night.”
“I wanted to give you a good-luck kiss.” I lean into him, pressing my chest to his, and take his bottom lip into my mouth.
He parts my lips with his tongue, palming the back of my head with his glove.
“Young lady, what are you doing here?”
My dad’s voice pulls me from my Preston-induced coma.
Preston straightens when he sees my dad and says, “Coach. I was just—”
“You’re just practicing, Parker. Get your ass back out there and stop kissing my daughter.”
“You got it, Coach.” He winks at me, and then he skates off.
“Hey, Dad.” I wave, hoping he doesn’t yell at me. “I thought it would be a pleasant surprise since this is Preston’s last year on the team and your first year as head coach. Plus, Boston isn’t super far.”
“You should be home studying or working on your ball handling skills… not chasing after boys.”
I suck in a deep breath and let it out. “I’m not chasing after Preston. I want to be supportive. I’m here for you, too. Not just for Preston.”
He smiles. “Okay, well, go take your seat and stop distracting my players. Parker needs to stay focused. This is a big game for us.”
“I know.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
When I turn around, I lock eyes with Kellan Lehane. Fear floods my veins, adrenaline rushing through my body. He mouths something to me I can’t make out, and I’m not sure I want to know what disgusting things he said.
Seeing him fuels my rage, making me wish Preston would rearrange his face. If only I could get his attention. Because I want nothing more than to see this asshole hurt the way I have for so many years.