Merry Cherry Christmas - Keira Andrews Page 0,28
eyes at how tame it was. Jeremy tapped out a response.
I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help, but I just can’t.
He was about to add a thank you since he didn’t want to seem ungrateful when his phone buzzed. He yelped and fumbled it, glad the cheap rug by the bed was enough to break the fall. He scooped it up and stared at the screen. Max was calling him. Sitting up in bed, he swiped to answer.
“Um…hello?” Jeremy couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually used his phone as a phone. Like, to talk. Out loud.
“Hey,” Max said in that rumbling baritone that ensured Jeremy’s erection wasn’t going anywhere. “Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
“No, you didn’t!”
“I think I did. This stuff comes easy for me.” He laughed. “I’ve always had a dirty mind.”
Jeremy laughed nervously, very aware of how hard he was. “I’m not a prude. I mean, I’m a virgin, and I’m clearly not good at saying stuff out loud—or typing it, I guess. But I’m not… It’s not that I don’t think things. Or…like them.”
Max teased, “You telling me you have a dirty mind, Cherry?”
His childhood nickname took on a whole new meaning when Max said it, and that low, sexy tone made him tingle. “I think so? I mean, what I think is dirty might be stupidly naive, but I’ve had plenty of thoughts.”
Max was silent for long enough that Jeremy lifted the phone away from his face to make sure they hadn’t been disconnected. Had he said something wrong? “Um, hello?”
“I’m here.” He was silent again before asking, “Do you trust me?”
Jeremy frowned at the serious tone. He didn’t have to think about it. “Yes. You helped me after I fell when you could have just laughed like everyone else. But I could tell you were different. I knew I was safe with you.”
Max exhaled loudly. “That’s… Thank you.” He half-laughed. “Honestly, that’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me.”
“Oh! Well, it’s true. I knew you’d take care of me. And you’ve been so great.” Resting back against his pillows, Jeremy looked at Doug’s almost-empty side of the room, the streetlights slanting a golden glow across the bare wall through the blinds. “I feel like I finally have a friend here.”
“You do. A hundred and ten percent. I like you. You’re cool.”
I’m cool! He tried to sound like he actually was, since Jeremy knew he was extremely uncool and was usually okay with that. “Thanks. You too.”
“Look—” Max exhaled noisily. “No pressure, okay? But do you want me to help you? With this whole sex thing.”
Jeremy opened and closed his mouth. Did Max mean what he thought he meant? “Uh…” How could he be expected to make words when his brain was dribbling out of his ears?
“I’ll show you the basics. Friends with benefits. No big deal.”
Friends. With. Benefits. This was definitely a thing people did. “You’d do that for me?”
“Sure.” Max chuckled. “It would be for me too. I could use the stress release. You’d be doing me a favor. If you’re into it, we can have fun. Like I said, no pressure. I just thought if you’re comfortable with me, it could be the perfect way to get your feet wet. Not to mention your dick.”
Jeremy choked out a laugh. “Um, I, uh…”
“We can go slow.”
“But I’m a neurotic mess.”
“You’re adorable. Trust me.”
And he did. He really did. Yeah, he’d only known Max a few days, but… Flashes of memory played out—Max’s strong arm secure around him as they slid their way to res, Max’s encouraging smile dimpling his cheeks, the furrow between his brows as he listened to Jeremy talk about his parents, the warm press of his hand on Jeremy’s cheek as he leaned down to give him his first kiss.
“I do,” Jeremy said, reminding himself sternly that the kiss didn’t mean anything. Friends with benefits, that was all. “I trust you. I want…” I want you. God, he did.
He let himself admit that he wanted Max Pimenta more than he’d ever wanted anyone, including Canucks player Brock Boeser, who’d gotten him interested in hockey. Well, in watching Brock Boeser play hockey, at least. But forget him. Because Max Pimenta was sexy and sweet and real. Jeremy was listening to him breathe.
Screwing up his courage, he said, “I want you to teach me.” His throat was dry. “Please,” he added hoarsely.
“Okay.” Max sounded hoarse himself. He cleared his throat. “We