“So what is your major Huntley?” my father asks, genuinely interested by the look on his face. My father likes her. That much I can tell. It relaxes and terrifies me at the same time. She wipes her mouth before answering, “I’m starting off with a general Psychology degree but eventually hope to specialize in Child Psychology and Early Childhood Development.”

That’s the last thing I expected her to say, although I’ve come to the conclusion that this girl is going to surprise me at every turn.

“That’s very impressive,” my mother adds. “What would you like to do with that?”

Huntley shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I’d like to counsel children who have been through traumas. I’d like to open my own practice someday, maybe work with orphanages as well.”

My parents are impressed and admittedly so I am too. I stare at her until our eyes meet. That familiar connection surges between us before I break it and look away.

“We’re so proud of her,” Mrs. Coach croons, patting Huntley on the hand the way a mother would. Huntley has never mentioned her parents and I haven’t cared to know about them until now.

“So Coach,” my father says, directing our conversation elsewhere. “How are we looking this season? Any chance we can get that championship title again this year?”

Now this is the type of conversation I like. Football.

“Well, if our boy over here keeps playing like he is, then there’s no way we won’t be in the finals this year.” Coach rubs his huge belly and smiles at his wife.

“We’ll make it,” I say, opening my mouth for the first time since we sat down. “Have you spoken to the sports department yet Coach?”

“I have indeed and they’re very interested in your proposal. They said as soon as you graduate then you’ll start off as my assistant coach while we work out the details of your proposal.”

I can’t hide the grin on my face. Most people assume I want to play pro football after college but I don’t. It’s not the direction I see my life going in and I would rather choose a career that will not only benefit me but other people too.

“What do you want to do?” Huntley asks next to me. I contemplate being vague but figure my parents will probably tell her anyway. I want her to know that I’m more than just the air-headed jock people think I am. It occurs to me that not only do I want to impress her, but I also want her to see the real me.

“I want to open a sports rehabilitation center in partnership with the university’s sports department,” I reply. The lump in my throat is the size of a golf ball.

Her eyebrows rise and she looks at me with those stormy blue eyes. “That’s impressive.”

“Thank you.” I turn to face my parents and see that they’re all watching us. The only two people oblivious to my seemingly innocent exchange with Huntley are Hannah and Finley.

“Who wants dessert?” Mrs. Coach pipes up, effectively ending the staring fest. I’m grateful for the subject change and visibly relax back into my seat.

“Me!” Hannah and Finley shout in unison.

Mrs. Coach looks at her daughters, “Girls, it’s time for your bath.” Their faces drop and they both sigh. Clearly not getting dessert is the end of their little worlds. I wish I was that age again, when everything was so uncomplicated and easy. And Emilie was still alive. My chest starts to ache at the thought of my twin sister. I miss her. Every day.

“I’ll take you,” Huntley offers. This makes the girls forget all about missing dessert and they bounce off towards the house. Huntley sways her hips as she walks and I swear she’s doing it because she can feel me watching her.

I help Mrs. Coach clear the table and take the dirty dishes inside. I’m about to step back out when the sound of laughter and splashing catches my attention. Hannah and Finley are laughing hysterically at something and I can only imagine what the three of them are getting up to up there.

My mother brushes past me and pats me on the shoulder. “She’s nice, I like her.” I blink. I was not expecting that. My mother leaves me standing at the bottom of the staircase completely dumbstruck.

What?

I look back up at the stairs in time to see Huntley standing on the top step. She shifts her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, twisting her fingers together. She’s nervous. That makes me grin.

“Um, Hannah and Finley want you to come tuck them in,” she says.

Without hesitation I bound up the stairs and walk into the girls’ bedroom. I brush my hand over Huntley’s arm and she shivers. Grayson 1 Huntley 0.

“Good night girls,” I whisper, kissing each of them on the forehead. I turn to see Huntley leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. She really shouldn’t do that, I don’t need any more reason to stare at her or her breasts.

I wonder what it would be like if we had babies?

Whoa, where the fuck did that come from?

The thought comes to me as naturally as breathing.

I switch the little nightlight off and close the bedroom door. Huntley stands in front of me, staring at me with those worldly eyes. We both say nothing for what feels like forever but that current hums between our bodies. I take a step closer, noticing how her chest visibly heaves. Inhale, exhale, stutter, inhale, exhale. I touch her arms with my hands and brush her skin lightly with my fingertips. She shivers and her lips part, begging me to kiss them. Oh sweet baby Jesus, I want to kiss them so badly, like I might die if I don’t taste them. Right. Now. I lower my head until our lips brush infinitesimally. The connection shocks both of us. Our breaths become shallow and labored and I decide that just this once it will be ok to give in. Just once will be enough.

I close the tiny gap and gently place my lips on hers. At first she doesn’t respond but then she steps closer until her body is flush with mine. It’s my turn to shiver. She feels so damn good pressed up against me. My hands grip her small waist and she grasps my shirt in her hands. The feel of her so close to me is too much.

Our kiss turns hungrier. Our mouths move together like they’ve done this before, only now they’re starving for the other. I trace my tongue along Huntley’s bottom lip and she eagerly takes me in. I explore the depths of her hot mouth, causing our tongues to engage in a wild ritual of song and dance. When I gently nibble her bottom lip she whimpers and that in itself is almost my undoing. I was so so so so wrong.

Once isn’t enough. It will never be enough.

“Grayson, are you up there? Your father and I are leaving,” The sound of my mothers’ voice startles us but not enough to break apart completely.

“Shit,” I whisper, resting my forehead against Huntley’s while we catch our breath.

“Yeah.”

That was intense.

“I have to go,” I do nothing to hide the disappointment in my voice. I don’t want to leave her, not after that kiss. “I’ll call you.” I place the lightest of kisses on her forehead and walk downstairs. I say goodbye to Coach and his wife and then my parents. I hurriedly jump into my truck and head home. The short drive is uncomfortable because I have a raging hard-on and the images of Huntley that flash in my mind aren’t making it easier. Or softer.

After two cold showers, I lie awake staring at my ceiling. I have no idea what possessed me to kiss her and as much as I hate admitting it was a mistake, I’d do it all over again.