Nick looks like he wants to say more, but he wisely returns his eyes to his phone as he pulls up his notes app. “Seth Robertson. What do you think of him, Serena?”
She wrinkles her nose. “He’s cute but a little boring.”
“Boring is good,” I say. “He won’t be intimidating.”
Serena nods. “Put him on the maybe list.”
Nick nods. “He seemed the most excited about Amy. Dominic White was too, but I think he… I got the idea he just wants to sleep with her to piss Tristan off.”
Serena scowls. “I hate Dom. I wouldn’t trust him within ten feet of Amy.”
“Dom sounds perfect,” I say. “If he wants to piss Tristan off, he can be my new bestie. Who cares if he’s a creep? I don’t plan on dating any of these guys after the game is over.”
Nick grins. “You’re ruthless, Amy.”
“She is,” Serena says with a pointed look at Nick. “I’m learning her ways.”
Nick’s smile freezes on his face before it fades. I strain the muscles in my throat to keep from laughing. Serena is really making him work for her, and I applaud her for it.
It’s more than I’ve done with Tristan.
But that will all be forgotten. I’m going to get revenge, starting tonight.
CHAPTER 12
Tristan
I lean against the wall, sipping the beer in my hand as I read Amy’s latest chapter on my phone, trying to drown out the deafening sounds of the party.
Fuck, I wish my little Amelia were here. I’d be free of this itching boredom, the need to burst out of here and find real stimulation. Lately, she’s one of the few places I can find it. Right now, it’s just Amy and football that truly satisfy me.
And she’s the much more satisfying outlet, which is…unsettling.
In moments like these, I wish I’d never blacklisted her from our parties. I’d love to have her at every single one of them, but it’s too dangerous. One of the guys might mention that Harper and I still hang out. Or Harper herself might show up.
The making-Harper-jealous ruse would be up.
Laughter and shouts fill the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and alcohol. Fuck, when did I start hating parties? Around the time I started spending time withher, I think.
“Hey, Wolfe!” someone calls out, slapping my back, and I scowl as I turn to face them. I take another sip of my beer, wishing I had opted for something stronger.
“What?”
“Your girl is here,” the pledge whose name I can’t remember says.
My gaze darts to the doorway, but I don’t find Harper. Instead, the sight in front of me sends a chill over my skin. Holy shit, that’s Amy.
My stomach hollows out.
That’s. Amy.
What the fuck is she wearing? She looks like a goddamn dominatrix in that black dress. Her huge tits are spilling out, and that black fabric is hugging her whole body. What the silly little dress covers of her body, that is.
I’ve never seen so much of her gorgeous skin exposed, and what the fuck did she do to her hair? She looks like a totally different person. Her dark-brown hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders, and her glasses have been replaced with what must be contacts, because her hazel eyes sparkle like honey.
She looks gorgeous.
Gorgeous and sexy.
