“What happened?”
Pres hadn’t asked me why the fuck I was asking so many questions, but he blinked at the bite in my tone. “I know she’s not your type, so I don’t need to tell you this, but I’ll say it anyway. She’ll never fall at your feet, won’t hook up with you for the hell of it, and won’t want to be another notch on your bedpost.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is she a lesbian?”
“No.” Pres rolled his eyes, and he leveled me with a serious look. “I mean it, Lach. She’s been through enough. If you see her, don’t bother.” He turned and waved at someone. “That’s her roommate. She’s more your type.”
I looked up and saw a pretty brunette with big tits wave back. The way she looked at me told me she’d be over here soon enough. I mulled over what he’d said. I didn’t like that he assumed Lyla wasn’t my type. He could have simply meant that she wasn’t someone who would be down for a fuck, two max. In which case, she wasn’t my type. I’d never been told to stay away from anyone, though, and I didn’t like it.
She seemed unbreakable, which made sense. You can only truly break someone once. Everything after that is just chipping at pieces. I wanted him to tell me what happened to Lyla James, but the roommate was already in front of us. She gave Prescott a quick hug and turned to me. I didn’t have a type, not really. For years, I’d been fucking girls from behind anyway. Not to say I didn’t do other things, but when it came to actual fucking, it was something I did to set a clear boundary.
“I’m Marissa.”
“Lachlan.”
“Oh, I know who you are.” She smiled, her dark brown eyes roaming up and down my body. Unlike her roommate, Marissa looked like she wanted to climb me right here, which did nothing for me tonight.
“Ah, shit. I have to handle this.” Prescott pushed off the wall and rushed over to an argument brewing between his ex and the woman.
“That’s going to get messy,” Marissa said.
“It’ll be a nightmare.” I watched Pres stand between them and felt bad for the guy.
“So. . .” Marissa started. I looked at her. She licked her lips. “I was heading out, and since I’m the only one standing here, I guess I should ask if you want to come with me?”
“Where?”
“To my place.” Her smile was slow and seductive.
“Where’s your place?”
“Two blocks down.”
“Hm.” I thought about it.Reallythought about it. Everything about tonight was unprecedented. It wasn’t like I fucked every single person who came onto me, but any other night, Marissa would make my list.
“Anyway, my roommate is home, but she’s used to company, so that won’t be a problem.”
I set my hand on her lower back. “Lead the way.”
The moment she said roommate, I pushed off the wall and was ready to go. She gave me a look that said this wasn’t her first rodeo, which I knew. Not that I cared. As we walked out, I kept some distance between us. I still hadn’t decided what would come of this, but I needed to know where she lived. Maybe it was an asshole move to use her like this just to get closer to her roommate, but it was the only one I had right now.
CHAPTER2
LACHLAN
If I was being completelyhonest, Marissa was the last person I wanted to see tonight. I’d left last night’s party with her and normally would never have come back here just to pick her up, but Prescott’s place was only two houses down, and I had to walk by here anyway. That was the excuse I’d given her and what I told myself as I sat in her living room, waiting for her to get ready. She’d been very persistent last night, but I’d managed not to fuck her. A first for me, I had to say. I probably would have caved if I thought Lyla would forgive that indiscretion, but I didn’t think she was up for her friend’s sloppy seconds. I hadn’t figured out why I cared, which was annoying me. I’d thought about it on my way home after dropping Marissa off. I’d continued to think about it before going to bed, and the only thing I could come up with was that Lyla James intrigued me, which was unfortunate for her. Women didn’t usually intrigue me. What they looked like underneath their clothes and how wet their cunt would be when I slid my dick into it intrigued me, but that was it. Once I’d had sex with a woman once or twice, the illusion was gone.
Twice was my limit. Women started getting attached the third time. If anyone ever did a study on this, I had enough information for them to base their analysis on. Fuck number one usually happened after a game or a party, so it was fun and new. Fuck, number two was more of a “Was it good, or did I imagine it?” Fuck number three. . .well, I’d only gotten to fuck number three a couple of times and regretted it every fucking time. They’d get attached. It went from a fun hookup to “We should meet up for drinks or coffee or whatever.” Sure, they hinted we’d fuck after, but I wasn’t interested in talking to them and I could get coffee or a drink with my freaking mother.
The Lyla Phenomenon was something else. That was what I was calling it now (in my head, of course). I hadn’t even spoken to my teammates about her, but I hadn’t called dibs and hadn’t fucked her, so there wasn’t much to say. It wasn’t like I would ever openly admit what I was currently doing. I’d been at Lyla and Marissa’s apartment long enough for the Taylor Swift album that Lyla was playing to get to a song about someone’s tears ricocheting, which seemed to be a favorite of hers with the way she mouthed the lyrics. It was a sad fucking song. She was washing dishes now. When I got there, she’d been curled up on the couch, reading a book. I’d asked her a few questions about it, which she ignored, so I’d swiped it out of her hands to gain her attention. I still hadn’t gotten it. It was maddening.
“It’s Saturday night,” I said. “Don’t you have anyone else to hang out with?”
“Don’t you?” She looked up at me from the sink.
“Sure, but Marissa and I are going to the same party, so I figured I’d swing by to pick
her up.”And I wanted to see you again.
