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It was a huge change from being the most popular guy on my college team, but I was finally getting used to the adjustment. Plus, the amusement associated with my humiliation had to pass at some point. Right?
Yeah, thanks for the support, guys.
“Definitely,” Sean responded with amusement. “I’ve never actually heard of that happening, you know? Honest to God, I think you’re the first.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure I’ll be the first for a lot of things around here.”
Cam guffawed. “Is that right?”
My chest puffed out involuntarily.
“You bet.”
“What do you think, Cam?” Sean said teasingly. “First one to show up to practice in panty hose? Or the first to fail miserably against the big dogs?”
“First one to give you a run for your money and then some,” I challenged.
Sean’s eyes lit, clearly reveling in the shit-stirring and the news that I was now a willing participant.
One thing was for sure. When you engaged with these guys, you’d better be ready to go the distance. Luckily, I had an extensive background in shit-talking, and all in all, I had the goods to back it up. I was comfortable on the field, and when really necessary, absolutely thrived under the pressure.
“Well, I guess we’ll see,” Cam remarked, rolling the toothpick in his teeth to the other side of his mouth and grinning. “First game this weekend will settle that.”
I nodded. We would see at the first game. It would be make it or break it time, and I had everything inside me gearing up for it by the day.
Everything smart inside me, that is.
The stupid parts—ironically linked to my dick—were focused on something a little different.
And as it happened, Sean decided to play right into my stupid dick’s metaphorical hands.
“So how exactly do you mess up a piss test anyway, Landry? I’ve been dying to know. Personally, I’m a pro when it comes to handling the one-eyed snake, and honestly, I can’t imagine how someone can fuck that up.”
He turned to Cam cheekily.
“I mean, what kind of voodoo dance do you have to attempt with your dick to spill the piss everywhere?”
Cam laughed and neglected to answer, but I filled in the gaps. I wasn’t sure it made me sound better, to tell the truth, but I was fairly certain it couldn’t make me sound worse.
“The medical tech—”
“Cute little blond?” Sean interjected.
I gave a tight nod, hoping the simple motion wouldn’t give too much away. “Yes.”
“Yeah, I remember her. Spunky little thing.”
Spunky little thing. I hated the way those three tiny words rolled off his tongue with ease.
“Aren’t you with someone?” I challenged irrationally, and just like that, I’d completely given away my hand. Two fucking months and the memory of her was still driving me crazy.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Why yes, yes, I am. How funny that you would notice.”
Cam laughed, pointing to Sean with a wag of his finger. “Annnd bring it up.”
I rolled my eyes, but they kept on.
“Seems like maybe he’s got a crush, Cam.”
“Seems extremely likely, Sean.”
“You two should take this on the road,” I remarked on a shake of my head. “Really.”
“Ah, come on, man,” Sean said with a laugh. “We’re getting to know you. Your likes, dislikes, strengths, weaknesses.”
Cam nodded. “So far we know you like blonds, and you’re weak as shit at peeing in a cup.”
At that, I laughed. A real genuine chuckle at my own expense. And finally, Sean’s smile turned from menacing to friendly.
Apparently, self-deprecation was the key to cracking his code.
“Come on, Leo. Let’s get a beer and talk a little more.”
I, of course, agreed readily. It was one thing to keep myself guarded until I proved my worth, but it was another to reject the idea of bonding with two of the most popular and talented guys on the team. Sean Phillips and Cam Mitchell wouldn’t be bad friends to have. Not at all.
Of course, all bad stories start with the good, and this one in particular was the beginning of how I made a decision I wasn’t sure I would have without the aid of so much alcohol.
Bottoms up!
Four hours later
While the rest of the party rolled on outside, Cam, Sean, and I sat inside Quinn Bailey’s basement and stared at Sean’s laptop.
“Trust me,” Sean slightly slurred for the ninth time in fifteen minutes as he flashed his agile fingers over the keyboard. “I use this profile for all kinds of shit, and no one has ever traced it back to me.”
“How do I know you’re not setting me up?” I asked with the expected mental clarity given how drunk I was. Which, yeah, equated to not very much.
“You don’t,” Cam comforted with a meaty-handed slap to my back. “You’re the rookie and you don’t know shit, but we know this. Sean’s got this. Trust.”
His pep talk was about as clear as mud, but somehow, in the moment, it was all I needed to hear. It was steadying and precise and encouraging all at once. Basically, as far as drunk Leo was concerned, drunk Cam was a genius.
