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“And what?” My shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “She talked. I told her to fuck off. Life resumed.”
“Jesus, Mase. She’s Rory’s best friend. You couldn’t have tried to let her down gently?”
“Just because you’re with her friend doesn’t mean I’m looking to dip my end there. She’s annoying as fuck.”
He choked back a laugh. “Say it how it is,” he mumbled. “Harper is good people. And her old man is practically Lakers royalty.”
“You’re right. What a brilliant introduction. ‘Nice to meet you, sir. I’m a big fan. And by the way, I’m pity-banging your daughter.’”
James Dixon was one of the best left-wingers the Lakers had ever seen. A legend. A myth around campus. But a chance at meeting him wasn’t worth taking Harper up on her offer.
She had stage-five clinger written all over her.
Besides, Harper wasn’t my type.
I preferred girls with some discretion. Girls with the ability to keep their mouths shut and my business off their socials, like Jenni.
Most of the guys had no issues hooking up with the endless flock of puck bunnies hovering wherever we went, and maybe I hadn’t freshman year when it was all new and exciting and easy. But I quickly learned that most of them just wanted to tame a Laker, to be able to say they were the exception to the rule.
Seemed a little like double standards to me that guys got a bad rap for playing around. At least we were usually upfront and honest. It was sex. Nothing more. It wasn’t a guy’s problem if the girl he was fucking went and caught feelings.
Didn’t mean we didn’t enjoy the chase occasionally. We were red hot-blooded males, after all—males who thrived on adrenaline and competition.
The chase could be just as sweet as the win.
But the high soon wore off.
It sure as fuck had for me, anyway. Now I like to keep things simple, off the radar, and under wraps.
“Just… try and play nice.” Noah leveled me with a serious look. “She’s important to Rory.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I knocked back my drink. Two down. A fuck-ton more to go if I was going to survive a night out with my friends and their girls.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like Ella, Dayna, and Rory.
I did.
They were down-to-earth and didn’t hang around with the puck bunnies. But too much PDA made me want to scratch my eyes out after a while.
“Zest is cool,” Noah added. “And it isn’t the usual crowd. You might meet—”
“I love you, bro. But do not fucking finish that sentence.”
He chuckled. “I remember saying that once. Now, look at me.” He searched out Aurora, something softening in his eyes.
Love.
He fucking loved the girl.
I never thought I’d see the day Noah Holden caught feelings. Yet here we were.
I couldn’t resent him for it, though. Aurora Hart was the kind of girl you couldn’t help but warm to.
Even if she was our teammate’s little sister.
“You’ve got the look,” he said.
“What look?” My brows furrowed.
