Get Pucked

21. old friends

PARKER

I've been trying to study for an hour, but Dakota, Connor, and Brooks landed not too long ago, and it's hard to focus knowing she could show up any minute.

As much as I enjoyed going home, my mom only wanted to talk about Dakota which made me miss her so much more, being that we've basically been attached at the hip since the day we met. I've also been itching to see Brooks after what happened with his family. He's my brother, and he's the last person on this Earth who deserves to be treated like that.

Eventually, I give up on doing work and throw my laptop to the foot of the bed, deciding to take a nap instead. It doesn't last long, though, because soon after I drift off, a gorgeous girl is climbing onto my bed and into my arms.

I open my eyes to see her honey brown ones burning down into mine, a smile splitting her cheeks. "Hey, baby." She leans down, kissing me deeply.

Flipping us over, I waste no time heating things up, having missed this over the past week. I reluctantly pull away for a quick moment to speak, "I missed you so fucking much."

"I missed you so much more," she pulls my head back down to hers, needing me just as much as I do her.

Our tongues collide as our hands roam each other's bodies freely, pulling at and gripping anything we can. The movements cause blood to start rushing towards my cock, so I slow things down, not wanting to start anything when the guys could easily come in any second.

Her hands travel up my back to my hair, fingers running through the short strands as she pulls her mouth away from mine.

"So much better," she softly giggles, eyes flickering between mine and the top of my head.

"I'm glad we can be on good terms again," my words come out sarcastic.

Climbing off of her, I head towards my closet, wanting to grab something before I forget. "My mom made you a present."

The dark blue comforter rustles under her as she sits up abruptly, looking slightly panicked. "Is it a good present or a bad present?"

My brows furrow, "what do you mean?"

"Like," she pauses, moving forward until she's sitting at the edge, legs crossed. "Is it something good, or is it an 'I don't like you, stay away from my son' present?"

I can't help but laugh as I walk towards her, bag dangling from my fingers. "Kota, my mom loved you, why would it be anything like that?"

She toys with the pocket of my hoodie, "we both know you'd tell me that even if she despised me."

"That's true," I admit, dropping the bag into her lap. "Open the bag and then tell me if she actually likes you or not."

I'm eager to see her reaction to what's inside after watching my mom sit on our couch all week making it. The moment I was alone with her last week, my mom immediately started talking about how she wanted to make 'my Dakota' a jersey to match hers, along with a few other goodies.

Something tells me she likes my girl just fine.

Dakota slowly takes the tissue-wrapped jersey out first, and a quiet gasp escapes her lips when she realizes what she's holding.

"She bedazzled a jersey for me?" Her wide eyes meet mine, looking for confirmation.

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh as I nod, gesturing to the bag. "There's also socks and cookie cutters of Connor, Brooks, and I's numbers."

When I told my mom about her famous chocolate chip cookies, she was out the door to the baking store before I even finished the story. My dad just shook his head, saying how excited she was that I had finally opened up to a relationship.