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“Why did I wait so long?” His voice is a whisper, his lips swollen and wet from our kiss.
“Because you overthink everything,” I say, bending forward to nibble on his ear.
He hisses, his hands moving to my ass. “My God, Shan. You’re killing me.”
“And you me,” I whisper. “But there’s no way I’m having sex with you out here.”
He chuckles. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Sure feels like you want to,” I say, rubbing my hand over the front of his jeans.
“Oh, I want to. Just not like this. I would never do that to you.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb and then slides a strand of hair behind my ear. “We should hang out sometime. Outside of this house.”
“You could meet me for coffee tomorrow…” I peek at the watch on my wrist to confirm the time. “Well, I guess it technically is tomorrow already. I go to Broad Street Beans for breakfast on Sundays if you want to come.”
He stares at me far longer than I had expected, thinking over my proposal. “Like a date?”
“No, not really. Just two friends who like to kiss grabbing coffee together. Nothing wrong with that.”
I try to play it cool. Guys hate when girls are too pushy or overly assertive, and I don’t want to freak him out.
“Yeah, I can do that.” He smiles. “What time?”
“I usually head over around ten so I can sleep in. I can stop by your house on my way… if you want.”
“Count me in,” he says before he kisses me again.
Chapter Three
Jamie
Standing next to Preston, I stare in horror at the computer screen. Trent is sitting in front of the desk in the room he shares with Tucker, his hand covering the mouse, scrolling down the webpage. Tucker’s face scrunches in anger as he reads Dethroned—a new gossip blog targeting our team—over Trent’s shoulder. Tuck is the topic of this week’s post.
A girl who calls herself The Queen has pictures of each of us with random girls on her website. Tucker is half naked in most of them and never without a beer in hand. Preston looks trashed. Drake has his hand down his pants in one, most likely whipping out his dick. Sick fucker does that all the time, and he’s proud of it. Trent has his face shoved between some girl’s tits in one picture.
None of us look good right now. Though, of us all, I look the best. At least, I’m fully clothed and not completely shitfaced. I have no idea what to say as I re-read the blog post. None of us do.
Dethroned
October Edition
I wonder what the NCAA would say about hot shot hockey stud, Tucker Kane, pounding beers and eating mystery brownies at the Delta Sig house on Saturday. Are those pot brownies, Tucker? Only a drug test will tell…
You, Tucker Kane, have been dethroned.
XO,
The Queen
Tucker got super trashed last night and ate a handful of pot brownies. He was so high and drunk Drake and Trent had to carry him home over their shoulders and put him to bed. It was kind of embarrassing. Lately, Tuck has been on a major bender, and now he’s given The Queen new material. From what I can tell, our hockey team is the subject of this girl’s blog, and she clearly has it out for us. Why? That’s the question of the hour.
One of us must have pissed off this girl. Why else would anyone want to attack us? Our parents are rich, with plenty of money to get this website shut down in a second. But getting our parents involved is the last thing any of us want to do. Preston is the only one who runs to his parents when shit gets rough.
Trent pushes his chair out from the desk and threads his fingers together behind his head, staring at Tucker. “Dude, you’re fucked if you don’t find out who’s writing this gossip column.”
Uncrossing his arms, Tucker lets out a deep breath. “Who would do this? Is there a way to find out who’s writing this shit?”
Preston squeezes Tucker’s shoulder, shaking his head at the computer screen. “We can find out who owns the domain. But think of this as your wake-up call, Tuck. All of your screwing around is catching up with you. Time to get your shit together. Stop drinking. Hire a tutor. Spend less time at the Delta Sig house. We need you on your A-game this season if we’re going to win another championship.”
“Yeah, I got it, Prez. For the hundredth time, I got it.” Shaking Preston off, Tucker steps away from him, inching toward the door. “I’ll figure it out. Okay?”
Preston nods and then shoves his hands into the pockets of his track pants.
The guys in this room are my family. Our parents are best friends, so we never spent a birthday or a holiday apart. I think of them as brothers more than friends. There’s a common link between us that no one can touch. I would do anything for them, and the feeling is mutual. We’ve always gone to the same schools and played hockey together. Now we play Division I hockey for the Strickland Senators and live in a house on campus with some of our teammates.
