Always Remember

He slides a controller into my hand and moves me so I’m in front of the television.
    “I can ’t play tennis,” I lie.
    “She ’s lying!” Alec yells from the kitchen. “She played on the tennis team when we were in school!”
    Sneaky little surfer shitbag.
    “You did?” Sam looks at me, his eyes wide with surprise.
    “Maybe once or twice,” I mumble.
    “Or for the whole five years we were at school!” Alec steps back into the room.
    “Well, shit, Alec!” I cry, spinning around. “Why don’t you just tell him when I started my period, huh?”
    Alec grins. “Well…”
    “That was called sarcasm, Johnson.” I grab a pillow and throw it at him. “Wait. You know when I started my period?” I frown a little.
    Alec ’s lips twitch. “Lilac Bay knew when you started your period and when you got it every month thereafter. You turned into a little demon.”
    “Pretty sure I ’ve mentioned that before,” Sam mutters, selecting tennis two player on screen. I elbow him.
    “I am not that bad when I ’m on my period,” I protest, looking at Lexy for help. “Am I?”
    “No worse than me.” She smiles.
    “Oh, great.” I sigh. “You’re the Queen Bitch when you’re on, so I must be the Bitch Princess.”
    Lexy smiles wryly. “Isn ’t that your title anyway?”
    I glare at her. “It can be arranged, you know.”
    A hand grabs my waist and spins me round. I bite back my shriek of surprise, steadying myself again Sam’s chest.
    “You ’re serving first,” he breathes into my ear.
    “I ’ll serve something up in a minute,” I mutter, pushing myself away from him. One side of his mouth curls up, and damn, for twenty-two, he’s kind of immature sometimes.
    I guess that’s why he’s the cream to my strawberries.
    I serve, flicking my wrist in the air. Goddamn, there ’s a reason I don’t play tennis on the Wii. Playing it on the Wii is too hard with all the wrist flicking and sensory issues. My remote never, ever, ever co-operates with the damn sensor when I’m playing tennis. Bowling? No problem. Boxing? On a good day. Tennis? Kill me.
    Miraculously, I win the first set from a disgruntled Samuel. He spins the remote in his hand, his eyes fixed on the screen. I ’m a little amused, I won’t lie. The buffoon wants to win, and he means business. I flick my eyes towards him, fighting my smile, and ready myself for battle
    The sensor is working with me today, for the first frickin’ time ever. And Samuel Edwards is goin’ down.

    ~

    I swing my legs from the kitchen table, grinning. Sam pours a glass of coke, his shoulders slumped slightly.
    “It ’s just a game,” I say through my grin.
    “You beat me. Four times.” He shut the fridge door and turns, looking at me with disbelief.
    I put my hands either side of my body on the table and lean forward slightly. “It’s just a game,” I repeat. “But winning was sah -weeeeeet.”
    “Jennifer.” A slight growl is in his voice.
    “I mean, you always beat me at bowling, so to sneak up behind you on tennis and win was just like “Pow, boom, wham! Take that!”” I giggle. “And your face. You looked like a cat that had just had his cream taken away. Mind you that is a change from the smug “cat got the cream” look on your face usually.”
    He puts his glass down and storms across the kitchen towards me. He slips his body between my legs and frames my face with his hands before pressing his lips firmly against mine. I squeak, gripping his arms and wrapping my legs around his calves. He nips my bottom lip as he pulls away.
    “What was that for? I’m pretty sure you’re too pissed for that to be a congratulatory kiss,” I mutter, blinking at him.
    “That was a “shut the fuck up” kiss.” The glimmer returns to his eye s a little and he trails his hands down my body to my waist. “Because God knows kissing you is the only thing that shuts up that smart mouth of yours.”
    I raise an eyebrow. “Hey, you like my smart mouth.”
    He grins a little lopsidedly. “I love your smart mouth. It’s good for kissing. Like this.” He brushes my lips with his, his breath falling heavier than his touch.
    “It ’s not all my mouth is good for,” I tease quietly.
    “I know, babe, I know.” He ghosts his mouth along my jaw towards my ear. “Your mouth is good at a number of things, and I remember each and every one.”
    A shiver snakes down my spine as heat pools in my low stomach. It’s like my body is a puppet and he’s