COMPLETED. A university student. A professional hockey player. They've proved they can be friends. Can they be more?
Although they're both in their early twenties and living in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, their lives couldn't be more different. Cami...
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The after-Pasadena return to reality had been bad, no doubt, but it had nothing on the after-Toronto hangover hell.
After I swiped my V-card with the nicest and hottest guy I knew, we showered (not together), ordered takeout and watched a movie (together). If I had thought that our sleeping together would change our relationship dynamic, I would have been wrong. There was maybe a bit more touching—a lingering hand here, the grazing of knees there—but other than that, things were unchanged. And that, in my books, was a very good thing. No one immediately shied away or expressed regret or burst into tears. Turns out that was only a during-sex thing for me.
Throughout dinner and the movie, we joked and commented on the most random of things, like how one of the shopping malls in Toronto was where Mean Girls was filmed, or how when certain birds chirp it sounds like they're saying cheeseburger.
The only time things had even just a hint of awkwardness was when it was time for us to go to sleep. As little experience as I had, I knew enough that it made sense that we'd sleep in the same bed. I mean, you don't let a guy put part of his naked body into your naked body and then make a big deal about sleeping together.
The literal sleeping together, to clarify.
But, I also knew myself. And I knew that I would probably be distracted by the fact that Taylor was on the pillow next to me and that I wouldn't sleep well. So, I figured Taylor might also have that issue. Considering he had a hockey game to play the following night, I wanted him to get as good a sleep as possible. I told him I'd take the couch, and he objected at first, but when I played the hockey card, he came around.
The first thing I heard when I woke up was Taylor whispering in my ear that he had to leave for morning skate but that he'd be back before eleven. I took advantage of the fact that he was gone to take as long as I wanted getting ready. As soon as I was vertical, I opened all the blinds in the apartment to let the amazing city in.
When Taylor returned, he followed through on his promise and took me to the University of Toronto campus. It was a nice gesture, but the trip was an epic fail. The campus was so damn big and we had no idea where we were going, so we had no possible way of giving ourselves an actual tour. We resorted to just walking around the area—the campus was immersed in the downtown streets—and ending up wherever we ended up. Whenever we thought we had walked far enough that there was no way we could still be on campus, we'd see a U of T building sign, proving us wrong.
The next time I really got to spend time with Taylor was after his game. When we got back from our exploration, he napped and then had to make his way to the arena. I had a few hours to kill waiting for the Uber Taylor arranged and paid for, and I used my time alone in the big, empty condo to think.
For once, I tried to not let anything negative seep into my brain. I was in a good mood and was feeling really good about myself—for once— and I wanted to prolong it. Instead of worrying about what this all meant for my relationship with Taylor, I focused on the fact that I just did something special with a guy I was in love with.
