He set me on my feet and grabbed my asscheeks roughly. “I banged Oli against Shakira. Probably what, the button on your jeans? You think that’s what did it? So, it was your fault.”
My cheeks flushed hotter than the sun and I gasped, pummeling his chest with my palms. “Oh my God! It wasn’t my fault! Don’t listen to him! That never happened!”
“That’s close enough to the truth. Or do you want them to know the whole sordid story?” he murmured quietly, voice full of gravel that made electricity arc across my skin and my cock plump up so fast my head spun.
Wylie and Flint brayed like jackasses, loud and obnoxious, and I couldn’t tell if they believed him or thought he was making shit up to mess with me, but they made the choice to abandon any follow-up questions.
Ren grabbed my hoodie from the hook beside the door and flung it at me before dragging me out into the freezing night.
“Lock up,” he called over his shoulder. The door banged shut.
My pocket vibrated as we walked, so I slowed down to tug my phone out.
Ren took off his glasses, muttering under his breath, probably about Shakira.
I unlocked my screen and sighed when I saw another text from Mom. This was the third one today. I shoved my phone back in my pocket without reading the message.
“That her again?” he asked quietly as he slipped his glasses case into his pocket.
“Yeah.” Shakira was down the street because when we’d come back from a food and caffeine run earlier, there were no spots in front of the tattoo parlor. I picked up the pace, and Ren easily caught up to me.
My pocket buzzed again, and I sighed and ran my fingers through my curls. We’d reached Shakira. I stood there, my mind swirling with the hundreds of things I would love to say to my mom.
Fuck off, for starters.
“Shit, parents suck. I.... KC and me.” Ren made a face, then pulled me in for a gentle hug. “We want you happy.”
I felt like a piece of carved wood in his arms.
“Come on. In the car.” He kissed my temple and closed the door behind me as I buckled my seat belt.
The ride home was a blur as my phone kept vibrating, one text after another, and tension poured through me.
Ren took my hand and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. The softness from him—which had started a few weeks ago—was so confusing. It just wasn’t him. It wasn’tbad, but it wasn’thim. It was one more weird-ass thing to sort through.
My head was still a mess when we walked in the front door of Ren’s apartment, but I cracked a smile as I spotted KC on the couch. He was spread out in his boxers with his head tipped back. The remote had fallen out of his hand. I hummed in appreciation as the light from the TV flickered on the ridges and valleys of his muscles. They were looking better than ever. His happy trail led down to a hefty bulge in his boxers.
Ren swung his arm around my shoulders, and we both took a minute to appreciate the view.
“Should we fuck and suck him awake?” Ren asked with a grin.
“No. He’s too stiff for that,” KC murmured, a smile crossing his lips. His eyelids cracked open.
“That’s why he mentioned the fucking and sucking.” I yelped when Ren tickled my side.
“No one asked you, Kitten.” Ren bent down to lovingly pat KC’s sleep boner.
KC groped blindly toward us and snagged my hand. He pulled me in for a kiss, but it was clear he was down for the count. His lips were warm and sweet, also closed and chaste.
The horny part of me howled at the injustice of the universe, which made me feel guilty as fuck.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Ren murmured.
KC grunted as Ren tugged him to his feet. He grimaced.
“What’s going on?” I asked, concern finally derailing the crazy train in my brain.
“Just stiff. My muscles. Not my dick.” He tried to smile but was so exhausted he didn’t quite make it. “Coach really worked us hard at practice.”
