“Only person in the fucking world who can get high from pucks flying at his body.” Seaborn ducks into a shower stall.
I hang my towel on the outside of my stall and open the door. I happen to glance over at the one across from me as Archangel steps in.
I smile at him and lift a brow. Will he look? Do I want him to?
I turn more toward him. I did bring up my size to see if he’d take the bait.
He narrows his eyes, and one twitches.
I lift my chin putting my hands on my hips.
He curls his lip. I smile not even trying to hide it.
Why do I love this so much?
Finally, his gaze flicks down, and his teeth dig into his lip. His eyes widen a little and he sucks in a breath.
I hang on every micro movement of his face, every flicker.
He’s lean but well-toned, with sculpted pecs and abs. They all stand out now fresh after practice, leading down to his cock. It twitches. I caused that.
I love his reactions so much, and I don’t know why.
“We’re going to be late for your adoption.” He doesn’t whisper.
“Okay.”
He lowers his gaze again and then steps into his stall.
My heart races as I get under my own spray.
Did he like what he saw? He looked a second time, but is that a good sign?
His reactions are like a drug, which makes me want to push them further tonight. Does that make me a bad friend? He doesn’t seem to hate it.
“Hurry up,” Archangel says after a few minutes. “We have places to be.”
I turn around to find the door pulled open just enough for him to peek his face in.
Fuck.
THIRTEEN
ARCHANGEL
The only solution after whatever that was in the shower is to get plastered. Wolfe is in his element, acting like the master of ceremonies. His smug ass father shows his face as well.
Thankfully, Coach Hawke stays away this year. Maybe because we moved the weekend, but Cox is here, so he’s got to know something. Last I heard, they basically lived together, so for Cox to still be out at this hour, Hawke has to know something.
Wolfe comes up next to me and knocks his shoulder into mine.
“What’s up?”
“My dad said we have to get things wrapped up as the chatter online is picking up.” Wolfe must already have told the guys, as they are breaking down our makeshift maze and the platform we use for the “adoption” drunk paintball shooting we do at the freshmen. There are guys we’ve hired to help, as most of the freshmen are too drunk to do anything properly.
“He’s monitoring online chatter?”
“I mean, he’s not doing it, but he has guys who do it. They watch all that shit.” Wolfe’s slurring his words a bit, which is a feat because he can drink a lot without showing it. “He’s alsowatching Coach Hawke this year. They got an officer on his place.” Wolfe laughs.
