I shake off all thoughts of Carter and grab another beer from the fridge. Then I plaster a smile on my face as I field a million questions about our championship odds, bowl games, and what I’m doing later tonight. The night is young and there are women everywhere, plenty of whom are looking to score.
It’s easy to tell which ones are DTF because they don’t waste time on small talk and get right to the point. Sort of like Kendall, who’s got my bicep in a vise grip as she rubs her perky tits against my chest. Her nipples stand at attention and she’s licking her lips like she’s remembering the taste of my cock in her mouth.
Six months ago—hell, six week ago—I would’ve jumped on the invitation. But I’m not feeling it. Not even a flicker of interest from my cock.
WTF. I glance down at my beer, which is almost empty.
I’ve never experienced whiskey dick firsthand, but this must be it, because come on, no guy in his right mind could look at Kendall and not get hard. She’s a knockout with shiny blonde hair, big brown eyes, and the kind of legs shaped by hours of spin classes.
“You played great today,” she says, batting her lashes and giving me the standard line.
“Thanks.” Here’s the thing, it’s easy to tell the jersey chasers from the real fans because they know your stats and they want to actually talk about the game. Like, in play-by-play detail. Kendall’s cool, but I doubt she knows I threw for over two hundred yards today, because she doesn’t know shit about football.
Hell, I doubt we have anything in common except a mutual interest in pleasure.
“Seeing anyone?” She practically purrs as she looks up at me, her seductive smile telling me everything I need to know. Kendall’s back in the game and looking to score.
“Nah.” I drain my beer and nod a greeting to one of Coop’s brothers. Poor bastard’s eyeing Kendall like she’s salvation, but he doesn’t stand a chance. She’s got a type and he’s not it. “You know the drill. No time for commitments other than football.”
Kendall laughs, her fingers loosening on my arm. “That’s what I like about you, Reid. No bullshit.”
“I try.” I shrug and take the opportunity to disentangle myself from Kendall. We had a thing last year and it was fun while it lasted, but we went our separate ways when the no-strings sex had run its course. We parted on good terms, and last I heard she was seeing a guy on the baseball team. “What happened with you and McCoy?”
“Turns out I’m not cut out for monogamy.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder and takes a sip of her beer. “I seem to recall you prefer it that way too.”
“I did.” The words hang between us a moment too long, and I realize my mistake. “I do,” I amend, raking a hand through my hair. Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s messing with my head or maybe it’s the way Kendall’s eyeing me like a side of beef, but I need to bounce. “I’m going to grab another beer. I’ll catch up with you later.”
I turn and push through the crowd, not giving her a chance to protest. I should’ve offered to get her another drink too, but the truth is, I don’t need another beer. I need to get out of here. Away from this whole scene and these people with their impossible expectations of who and what I am.
What I need tonight is someone who doesn’t expect much of me at all.
18
KENNEDY
“Areyou sure you don’t want to come with?” Becca calls from the hall bathroom, where she’s spent the last hour perfecting her hair and makeup to the crooning of Imagine Dragons. “The team would love to see you.”
Yeah, right. I’ve got a couple Snapchat messages that suggest otherwise. Not all the women on the team were as understanding as Becca about my choice to drop soccer for a football scholarship. The fallout hasn’t exactly been nuclear, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to crash their girls’ night out.
Not while the wounds are still fresh, anyway.
“No, thanks,” I say, glancing up from my laptop just in time to see her head peek around the bedroom door. “I have a lot of work to do on this proposal for the ACME design competition.”
Technically, I have a few more weeks to get my proposal approved, but since I’m entering solo, I’ll need every spare minute to prepare. The ACME design competition isthecompetition for mechanical engineering students, and I can’t afford to blow it.
Not if I want to land a decent job after graduation.
“Bor-ing.” Becca rolls her eyes and pushes the door open the rest of the way. “I thought a full-ride would give you more time to, I don’t know,have a life.” She plants her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes like she can see right through my bullshit. “I mean, shouldn’t you be out celebrating with the football team tonight?” She pauses, her next words very deliberate, although I can hear the suspicion in them. Yep. Her bullshit detector is online. “Are you holding out on me?”
“Of course not.” I toy with a loose thread on my comforter. Here’s the thing: Becca’s not going to understand turning down an invite to party with the football team. Where I see danger, she sees man candy. “You know how I feel about football players.”
This earns me another eye roll, even more dramatic than the last. “Sweetie, I know your dad is an asshole—I get it; mine is, too—but you can’t assume all football players are the same.”
“Why not?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. After all, Becca’s going out to cut loose. The last thing she needs is depressing talk about my daddy issues.
“Because if there’s even one nice guy in that bunch of hotties, it would totally be worth the risk.” Spoken like a woman who’s never had her heart broken. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take, not after years of watching my mom try to change my father—and failing. “Oh, and speaking of things that are hot, I put a new book in your bag for next week’s away game.” She gives me a devious smile. “It’s a scorcher, so try not to blush.”
Becca and I have a shared love of romance novels, but she leans toward books with a heat level that are best read in private, while I prefer a nice slow burn. She’s always slipping me books she thinks will expand my sexual horizons, whatever that means.
