Page 49

Shaving Jude’s head had somehow become one of the longest-running traditions in our friendship. It started freshman year of high school as a joke. Someone had dared him to shave his head before our first game, someone else claimed rubbing it was lucky, and because football players were apparently deeply susceptible to superstition, that was all it took.

Years later, it had become a whole ritual. Before every season, one person earned the right to shave Jude bald, everybody rubbed his head before games for luck, and the newer guys thought we’d lost our minds. The older players treated being chosen to shave him like some sacred honor and had been known to offer increasingly ridiculous bribes for the privilege.

“I’m sorry,” he retorted, “but who else is being scouted here? Only one person is worthy of shaving me this year.”

“Me?” I gasped and clutched my chest, feigning my surprise.

“All hail Jude’s bald head!” Wyatt exclaimed. I joined him immediately because, obviously. “All hail Jude’s bald head! All hail Jude’s bald head!”

“Thank you! Thank you!” He hopped off the table and bowed.

One bow became two. Two quickly turned into him bowing to every random passerby as if they were involved in the whole thing, including two girls. They caught his attention immediately, and I sighed. The guy was so easily distracted.

“My head is lucky, ladies,” Jude said with a wink.

“Right,” one of the two girls replied, rolling her eyes.

“And my tongue is magic,” he continued.

Beside me, Wyatt settled in like this had suddenly become live entertainment.

“Ah, yes,” Wyatt murmured, making me chuckle. “Here we go.”

Wyatt was funny about this stuff. For someone who could quote half a dozen romance movies at any given moment and genuinely enjoyed happy endings, he mostly kept to himself when it came to dating. He hooked up occasionally, but never seemed particularly bothered when he wasn’t. Maybe that was another reason we got along so well. Neither of us had ever seemed to need the constant parade of people Jude entertained.

Or who knew? Maybe Wyatt had a secret relationship too.

At this point, I clearly wasn’t in a position to rule anything out.

“And I prefer girls,” she retorted.

“Oh, swing and a miss,” Wyatt commented without missing a beat. I pressed my lips together as not laughing grew harder.

“Fair enough.” Jude’s hands fell to his hips as he sized up the other girl, and she stared right back at him. The slow grin on his face wasn’t encouraging. Oh, no. I knew that look.

“Jude, no,” I tried to cut in, but he ignored me.

“We’re both bisexual,” the second girl announced all too suggestively.

My head dropped with a heavy sigh. Damn it. There was no stopping him now.

“And you know what I am?” Jude asked, his smile widening and his gaze traveling between the two girls. “A fantastic learner.”

“Oh, good God.” Wyatt groaned while I laughed, unable to stop it.

“Want to teach me how to be better with my tongue?” he proposed.

“There’s no way in hell that fucking works,” Wyatt said under his breath. I watched the girls exchange a look. Unfortunately, I had significantly more faith in Jude’s nonsense than Wyatt did.

“I think you underestimate Jude’s ability to sell that tongue of his,” I replied. Honestly, someone should’ve studied him. The man had somehow turned offering oral sex into a pickup strategy and, against all reasonable expectations, maintained a concerningly high success rate. Either Jude possessed supernatural charisma, or there was a truly depressing shortage of men on campus willing to go down on women enthusiastically.

The girls exchanged a long glance. Yup. He had them.

“Sure.” The first one shrugged. “But I’m going to make you work for it.”

“Oh, he’s up for it, aren’t you, big guy?” The second looped her arm through his.

“Give me a few minutes, and I will be!” Jude replied all too happily. And just like that, they started walking away with him. Unbelievable.