Page 13 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

I did my ten reps, pretending that I hadn’t been looking at the smooth skin of his thighs whenever his shorts flapped loosely or the bulge that needed no introduction. Half of me was certain he was doing this on purpose, just to feel superior and wanted. Why else would he be practically squatting over my face? And why else would he want Grindr to notify him while he wasn’t near his phone to respond? It was just his vanity.

And yet, I stared.

With my throat constricting and my stomach hollowing, I stared. I looked at him until I finished the set and felt something stir deep in me, descending to my groin and shooting up my spine at once.

When I was done, I jumped up to my feet and spent only one lingering moment looking into his eyes. My breathing sped up and I wondered if I owed him a thanks for help. In the end, I didn’t have enough time to decide. Cameron bent down and grabbed his water bottle, then proceeded to leave the room.

It was better that way, I decided. Thanking him would just make this dynamic extra weird. Besides, what else was the point of having him here?

I found my bottled water and drained it, then headed to the locker room. By now, Cameron was already showering, so I was safe to undress and choose the furthest shower from him. But, as I did just that, and as water soaked me from above, I needed to squeeze my eyes shut and search for ways to carve the images of his muscular thighs out of my memory.

Chapter Four

CAMERON

“You’re awfully quiet,” Beckett mused as we headed down the narrow lane between housing facilities. Just around the corner was a neocolonial frat house where a mass of students was shifting in and out, loud music blasting out the windows. This was the last weekend before the semester started and people needed to get the summer out of their systems.

“Hm?” I reined in my thoughts and glanced at Beckett.

He snickered. “Yeah, I'll rest my case.”

“Sorry. I was miles away.” I scratched the back of my head and let him pass first into the frat house. Lights were subdued inside and people were already sauntering by the look of it. It wasn’t very likely I would enjoy myself tonight. Even less likely were the odds of ending this goddamn dry spell. Grindr had been of no use. Nobody tickled my interest in the slightest since I had arrived here.

Worse still, the entire idea of hitting someone up, determining a place and time, doing the deed, wiping off, and heading back bored me to death. My fist achieved the same goal just as well, but that wasn’t what I was missing.

And whatever it was that I missed, I wouldn’t find it at a frat party.

I’d done my fair share of parties back in Santa Barbara, so the prospect of chugging from a keg hardly excited me. But the whole team was here and I wasn’t just going to let Riley think he won some silly dick measuring competition by appearing asocial.

Not that I cared what he thought.

Okay, maybe I cared a little. It was just frustrating that he was constantly looking to score a point against me. It was like he couldn’t see I wasn’t competing with him. Except, you kinda are, my voice of reason whispered.

The full truth of it was that I simply couldn’t let the fucker get away with it. I was compelled to protect myself when he got too cocky. Whether he was carrying some seriously heavy baggage from our history or he was just so competitive, I didn’t know. And I had no plans on finding out.

But avoiding Riley Brooks was impossible. Just as I followed Beckett into the house, I lifted my gaze to the upper floor’s gallery, and held my breath. Blond, blue-eyed, deep-dimpled, and stiff as a tree trunk, Riley stood with his hands on the railing, watching the mingling crowd below. The smile on his face was a reply to something Caden Jones was saying and Riley began to turn his head to reply, but his gaze caught mine and he froze. It was like a flicker of something went out of his eyes.

My stomach felt empty, my chest hollow. He stared at me, his features hardening.

I decided that my wisest course of action was to ignore the fuck out of him. The less we went head to head, the fewer chances there were of saying something wrong.

“I see what’s distracting you,” Beckett said with mock seriousness.

“Him? Hmpf.” It was a poor disguise because my voice cracked at the suggestion.

Beckett threw his arm over my shoulders and shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. When you guys are gone, I have two more years to build my path forward. I’m happy to eat popcorn and watch you two nuke each other’s careers on ice this entire year.”

I deadpanned. “But?”

His grin broadened. “But is that really what you want? This stupid feud is hurting your chances to get drafted.”

“Why exactly are you telling me that?” I asked expressionlessly. “He’s the one feuding.”

My sole ally on this campus nodded a reluctant nod. “I’m not head-over-heels for Captain Brooks,” he admitted. “But even I can tell you’re not so innocent, Martinez.”

“Your wisdom is much appreciated, Partridge,” I said, mocking his tone.

Beckett’s eyes turned lust-glazed when he spotted two girls on the other side of the large common area, so I released him into the wild. I wouldn’t be seeing him tonight, I was sure. If this month of prep at Northwood had taught me anything, it was that Beckett followed his dick’s ideas to a dot.