AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Just go get your panties, dipshit.”
I toss him an air kiss that only darkens the expression on his face. Nate’s pissed because I interrupted his rant. He’s nervous that among the team we’ll face tonight is one of his high school rivals. Poor guy probably wanted reassurance from me, and instead, I burst out, saying I forgot to pack my underwear.
As I hop off the bus, I promise myself that I’ll listen in full and give Nate the exact list of reasons why he’s the best defenseman I’ve played with and why I’m glad he’s the one watching my six.
If I told him why I forgot my underwear in the first place, he would pick me up and throw me out the window of the moving bus.
I distinctly remember having to sit down on my bed earlier today, my heart pounding so fast it almost made me run to the hospital. Nerves weren’t the reason. At least not because of the game. I spent the whole night awake with random palpitations every time I remembered how close I’d been to pulling Tinker Bell against me last night and having my way with her right there on the ice.
We’d have melted the whole thing down, the way my imagination went. You can’t blame a guy for getting dizzy at the rapid rush of blood to a single area of his body, huh? Good thing that whole episode happened with no witnesses.
Coach Green and I cross paths as I climb off the bus. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Uh, so, you’re not gonna believe this, but I forgot to pack underwear.”
Coach presses his mouth tight into a very unimpressed expression. I, too, know I’m destroying my hard-earned reputation right now.
“Fine, if you’re not back in ten minutes, we’re leaving without you.”
“Yes, sir.” Fortunately for me, my dorm is a sneeze away from this parking lot.
A bunch of wolf whistling explodes behind me, and while I jog away, I take a glance back to find half of the Thunder Bolts hanging out of the windows.
“Go get your thong, princess!”
“What’s wrong with going commando? It reduces friction.”
Too many of them crack up at that, leaving me no choice but to stop and flip them the bird.
I stumble on my own feet and don’t crash onto my butt by sheer luck. Because right behind our bus is the women’s team bus. And on the curb, their coach and a few of the Strikes stare at me, probably thinking I’m swinging free even though I currently am not. Among them is Tinker Bell.
Turning around, I decide I’m not gonna talk Nate up when I return. I’m going to murder him instead.
Some dude taking out his laundry gives me a once-over as I walk into the dorm building. Guess they’re still not used to seeing burly dudes in a full suit yet. I wish I’d brought my bag with me, because now I’ll have to stuff my boxers into my pocket, and I don’t want to deal with the mockery.
I push the door to my dorm room open. Inside, Brett leaps on his chair in fright.
“You can keep watching your naughty videos, bro,” I say while I check out the mess on my bed. Papers, books, a balled-up towel and—voilà. I grab the boxers and stuff them into my pocket. “I’m out.”
“I was not watching porn!” He points at the screen of his laptop. An Excel sheet full of numbers is apparently what had him so engrossed. “I’m not some jock who can only think with his pants.”
I was just about to walk out the door, but that stops me. “What is your problem, man?”
“You’re all the same.” How this went from a passing comment from me to him getting in my grill, I have no idea. But here he is, angry, as if I’ve punched him with no warning. “All you do is look down on guys like me and think you’re the kings of the world. You’re all freaking bullies.”
Is my brain still addled by my hormones? Why do I feel like this guy’s having a conversation with himself?
“So you’re saying I bullied you just now?” The incredulity in my voice is obvious.
“N-No.” He glares at me, though, in contradiction to that answer. “But it’s just your attitude?—”
“That is so not the same.” I square up to him, taking a step closer. “In fact, with the number of insults you hurl at me and my friends, I could argue that the bully here is you.”
I must’ve touched a nerve, because it makes him shout. “I am not a bully!”
“Neither am I. Maybe you’d know that if you stopped being such a judgy prick for a second and get to know me.” At his stunned silence, I add, “Look, I honestly don’t know what I’ve done to make you hate my guts, but you should know I couldn’t possibly care less what you think about me. Keep hating me for all I care. I don’t have time for this.”
I whirl around, expecting more insults to fly as I jog down the stairs. All is quiet, though. Except in my mind.
