I used to think there was something else there too. Not love, but love-adjacent. Something more powerful than like or friendship.

I see it now, flickering across his face as he grips my waist and pulls me flush against his body.

“We could get caught,” he teases, slipping his thumb under the hem of my sweater and rubbing it back and forth just above the edge of my skirt. “Suspended. People would talk. They’d know you aren’t the good girl everyone thinks.”

I lean into him, letting Holden support most of my body weight. “Make it worth my while, then. I’m not risking all that for subpar sex.”

Holden’s hand stills on my back. He laughs. “Baby, it’s never going to be subpar between us.”

There’s affection and familiarity in his tone as he grabs my hand and tows me toward the locker room. My heart takes off at a gallop, excitement and anticipation coursing through me. I can’t believe we’re doing this. I can’t believe I suggested this.

I’ve never been in the boys’ locker room, obviously. The layout is the same as the girls’. I look around like there’s something to see, fiddling with the hem of my sweater.

Holden glances at me as the door swings shut. “We don’t have to—”

“I want to.” I’m nervous, but it has nothing to do with second-guessing. For once I want to regret what I’ve done, not what I haven’t.

I’m not sure I could ever regret anything involving him, though.

I reach down and pull off the boots I’m wearing. The tile is cold and hard but looks clean. I peel off my tights next, followed by my underwear, leaving my skirt on. Based on the way Holden is looking at me, he likes that I did.

He takes a seat on the scarred wooden bench that runs the length of the room, knees parted and expression serious. I walk closer and closer, not stopping until my legs hit the edge of the bench and I’m standing between his.

This isn’t the frantic hook-up I was picturing. I thought we’d come in here and it would happen immediately. That drawing things out would have lost the appeal to him. That the novelty has worn off, like Grace said.

I startle when his hands land on my thighs and slide up, under my skirt. Staying upright becomes a challenge as he cups my ass and then slides a hand between my legs. My breathing becomes loud. Ragged. In the quiet room, it’s all I can hear.

“Always so wet for me,” he whispers.

I moan, everything else but him melting away. One of his hands moves to the waistband of the mesh shorts he’s wearing, pulling out the long, pulsing length of his dick. I ogle his erection as it bobs between us.