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“Perfect. That’s perrrrfect,” Sebastian chimes. “I’ve never seen so much hotness in one shot in my life.”
Thrusting upward, he brushes his lips to my neck, dragging me closer. My breath hitches, and I think my body forgets for a moment that this isn’t real.
Chemistry isn’t always needed to create a good image. A perfect one though? It’s a must. And today, there’s an overabundance of chemistry because every cell in my body is buzzing from his touch. His scent is enough to put someone in a coma. His gritty voice makes me quiver. And his rock-hard body, covered in tattoos…wow. It’s really too bad I’ve sworn off men for the time being. Because he’s stirring up something in my body that’s a little hard to ignore.
5
Brody
When I finally have a free minute, I stare down at the email my English teacher sent me earlier today. It shouldn’t surprise me that she has concerns about my work already. But reading words likemodificationsorcreating a plan that works for youis still embarrassing as hell and makes me feel like an idiot. It also instantly makes me want to go back to an hour prior when I had the world’s hottest chick in my lap. Every inch of me wanted to be inside of her. Who wouldn’t want to? And once she got comfortable, her freaky side came out. She bit her lip, thrusting her tits closer to me. I even felt her shiver when I kissed her neck and watched her nipples pebble under the thin sports bra. I had to give myself a mental pep talk to not get a massive hard-on and stab the poor thing with it so hard that I injured her.
She looks like she should be back in Florida. Her hair is naturally bleached from the sun, and her skin is browned to a golden perfection. I don’t know why or how she ended up here, and there isn’t really any use in finding out either. I do a lot of things. But growing attached to people isn’t one of them. I have my teammates, some who have become brothers, but that’s it. Oh, and a head full of issues that keep me up at night. I’m nobody’s Prince Charming. Unless, in your fantasy, Prince Charming fucks you silly and sends you on your way, best keep walking.
This school year is going to suck. Just like all the others did. Except there’s been some buzz around the hockey world. About which college players are going to be getting picked up this season. And the word around is…I have a few teams interested in drafting me. I, for one, can’t wait to go pro. And then shit like English class won’t matter anymore.
I always scrape by. Somehow, someway, I do whatever needs to be done to stay eligible to play. But, fuck, I wish it were easier sometimes. Sure, maybe athletes do get some strings pulled from time to time. Not in this situation though. This isn’t about getting out of a paper because I have an away game. This is about the fact that I’m dumb, and I don’t understand a lick of what I’m reading.
It’s frosty as fuck in this apartment. With Link and Tate hating each other, they seem to avoid the fuck out of crossing paths. Link is a stubborn prick sometimes. But he loves her. And one day, he’ll remember that. Which means, even though it’s tense as hell right now between them, soon, I hope, they’ll kiss and make up. And when they do, I’ll jump with fucking joy.
Until then, I suppose I’ll suffer through the awkwardness. After all, it was me who told Tate she could live here to begin with.
Bria
I scroll through Brody’s Instagram nervously, like I’m doing something wrong. It’s mostly him playing hockey and some pictures with his friends.No shirtless ones, sadly.
The last thing I need is to get a crush on someone. My biggest goal right now is healing and growing as a person. What that looks like or means, I have no idea. All I know is, my behavior after my dad died wasn’t healthy. And I knew I needed to work toward a better me. Which is exactly what I’ve been doing. Or trying anyway.
There’s something about Brody that I find intriguing. And it’s obvious that we’re likely going to be working together in future photo shoots, which I suppose I’m not opposed to. But the sexual tension between us today was almost unbearable. And I know it’s only going to get worse.
I’ve heard the buzz about the hockey players around campus, and Brody O’Brien is expected to get drafted to the pros this year. For Rugged & Co., it’s a genius idea to bring him on board.
I also bet he makes more than I do. Jerk.
Setting my phone down, I grab a picture from my nightstand and lie back in my bed.
Tracing my fingers over the picture of my family on the beach, I look at each of us. I remember this day so clearly. I really thought, that time, my dad was going to stay clean. I thought he finally wanted a life of sobriety and had seen the light. Even looking at this now, I’m angry, and that makes me feel bad. He didn’t want to be an addict. I’m sure of it. So, why do I stare at his face and wish I could yell at him for throwing his life away just to get high?
The anniversary of his death was last week, and even though my mom tried to be strong, I know it was hard for her. It was hard on all of us. And truthfully, I don’t know if I need more healing from all the mistakes he made during my childhood or if my pain lies in the very fact that he’s dead.
I guess I’m still trying to figure it out.
Setting the photo down, I turn my light off and flip onto my stomach. I have a full day of classes, followed by working at the bar tomorrow. I need rest.
So, why is Brody’s almost-naked body all I can see in my brain?
6
Bria
Iyawn. Sleep wasn’t easy to find last night, and classes today were a bit strenuous. But I’m the one who took this job, so I need to suck it up and do what I’m here to do. Which is slinging drinks and dealing with drunk assholes.
I bite my cheek to prevent myself from the words I really want to give the dudes at the end of the bar. Whistle once—okay, whatever. Yell something inappropriate a few times—I might let it slide. But now, we’re working on twenty-five minutes of nonstop annoying shit being called at me whenever I pass by, and I’ve had enough.
“Yo, blondie, what time do you get off?” one calls, grinning like he’s a fifteen-year-old boy about to touch his first set of boobs.
“Whenever I get her naked—that’s when,” the other says, and I’ve reached my limit.
Walking to the end of the bar, I get there in a flash before grabbing a fistful of both of their shirts. “I get it, okay? You have beer guts. Your hair is falling out. You’re middle-aged. You probably last five seconds in the sack, and your wives probably let you out of the house for a few hours because they know no one else is going to want you.” I pause. “I take that back. No way is any woman dumb enough to marry one of you.” I narrow my eyes. “The manager is out back, and he’s a big,bigman. Now, I can go get him, or you can sit there and shut the fuck up. Because I promise, no matter how many times you hit on me, you have no shot.” I look them up and down before jerking my chin toward the handheld blender tool. “I’d let that into my vagina with it running on full speed before anything attached to the pair of you.”
