Two
Holden
After he finishes his little chat, Kason doesn’t even have to speak for me to know precisely what he’s planning to say. It’s written all over his stupid, handsome face.
I’m going home alone tonight.
Still, I’m not about to let it deter me from being the charming, easy-going guy he’s known for the past few years. Which is why I plaster on a smile as he closes the remaining distance between us.
“Trouble in paradise?”
Some mixture of a wry smirk and pained grimace crosses his face, before he shakes his head. “We’re gonna have to take a raincheck.”
Called it.
“Yeah…” I say, trailing off for a second. “I kinda picked up on the vibe when your bestie pissed all over your leg like a territorial dog the second he walked over here.”
This time, he definitely winces. “I’m sorry about Phoenix. He’s just a little protective. Best friends, you know?”
My attention flicks over his shoulder to where Phoenix is standing, only to find him glaring daggers at me. An action reading less best friend and more jealous boyfriend.
I’m not about to point it out, though.
Kason’s been on my radar since he let his interest in guys slip at the beginning of the season.
But as much as my interest in him has piqued, I’m not about to fight for his attention—especially if someone like a best friend is involved.
I might like getting laid as much as the next guy, but I’m far from fucking desperate.
“Look, Kase,” I start, shifting my gaze back to him, “If you’ve already got something else going on with him, then—”
“With Phoenix?” he interrupts, shock evident in his tone. “Absolutely not. Like I said, we’re just friends, and he’s protective of me. Plus, I think most of the issue is that he’s new to the idea of me dating.”
My brow arches. “We’re dating now? I’m glad to have been included in that discussion.”
A sharp snicker leaves Kason as he rubs the back of his neck, noticeably uncomfortable. “You know what I mean. Seeing people, hanging out with people who aren’t him.”
“The only way he’s gonna get used to it is for it to keep happening,” I point out.
“You’re probably right. Though I don’t think it’ll happen anytime soon.”
“Regardless of your bestie’s approval, I don’t think it should stop you from heading back to my place.”
Instantly, the smile turns into a grimace when he glances back at Phoenix. “It’s not that I don’t want to, because I do. It’s just…not tonight.”
Irritation creeps in, though I play it off. “The offer still stands.”
“Good to know,” he says, blowing out a breath.
I can feel the nervous tension radiating off him—how he’s torn between what he wants to do and worried about pissing off Phoenix. It’s not something new, yet I’m surprised by the dynamic in this circumstance. Kason’s never given off the vibe of relenting to anyone.
Then again, ever since we started talking in a more than friendly way, he’s changed a bit. Becoming less self-assured and more of a bumbling fool. A trait I might find endearing if it wasn’t about to end my night without getting laid.
“I swear it,” I tell him, doing my best to counteract his nerves. “Even if it means you sneak out of the apartment later, and I pick you up off the street like a prostitute.”
He cracks a grin, easing some of the tension. “I’ve been called many things, but that’s never been one of them.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” My brow arches before I motion to him with my cup. “And, hey, they used to sell virgins into prostitution for some serious cash.”
Kason chokes out a laugh. “You saying you’re willing to pay?”
A smile curves my lips as I step closer to him and lean forward to whisper in his ear. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”
My gaze collides with Phoenix’s over Kason’s shoulder before I have the chance to back away, noting the drop of his lips and lines etched into his forehead. The stiff, rigid way he’s standing, arms crossed and pissy.
The pure rage written in his body language is unmistakable.
And it only gets worse when my hand lands on Kason’s arm, my fingers skating up and down the length of it.
“Until then, you better go,” I tell Kason, stare still fixated on Phoenix. Once I pull back, I break eye contact in favor of looking at my teammate. “Your chastity belt is waiting.”
Another strangled laugh comes from Kason’s mouth, and he peers over at Phoenix…whose stare doesn’t leave me.
“You’re probably right. He looks ready to rip your throat out.”
“Just being a good little guard dog.”
Kason’s head shakes as he steps out of my reach and toward his gatekeeper, somehow finding amusement in this shit situation. “I’ll see you later.”
I fake yet another smile and nod. “Yeah, sure.”
And as quickly as I found him, he disappears into the crowd without another word.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m disappointed. Still, if he’d rather go back to his apartment with his pissy-as-fuck best friend, the more power to him. I’m more than happy to head toward the keg and attempt to salvage the rest of my night rather than dwell on Kason’s missed opportunity.
I’m in the middle of yet another heated Bronco versus Wrangler debate with Theo, my abysmal attempt to entertain myself after Kason left the party with Phoenix.
Which clearly isn’t going well, seeing as I’m barely paying attention to Theo while we talk, opting to people-watch while I wait for Oakley to reappear.
“I think you just need to drive it,” Theo says, taking a swig from his solo cup.
I try picturing myself in his ostentatious mustard-yellow Bronco, rolling through town with the top off, and I just shake my head. “No way, man. If I’m driving the thing anywhere, it’s off the nearest fifty-foot cliff.”
All Theo does is laugh. “You say that now, but I promise you’ll convert once you do.”
I’m about to rebut yet again when I catch sight of Oakley making his way down the stairs.
Finally.
His cheeks are flushed, like he just ran a marathon or something, and he glances around the crowd like he’s in search of someone. It’s more flustered and disoriented than I’ve ever seen him. Then I realize the someone he could be looking for is probably me, and it’s time to head out.
“We can continue this later,” I tell him, nodding toward Oakley.
“You do realize I could take you back to the house, and we could finish this now?” Theo shouts as I start to walk away, me waving him off as I go.
There’s no way he’s converting me anyway, no matter how hard he tries.
Oakley’s at the bottom of the stairs, still searching the crowd, when I reach him. Yet, he doesn’t see me until I lean in to shout over the music. “You good?”
Two brown eyes flash to my face, and he briefly nods.
Thank God.
“Then let’s get outta here.”
We weave our way through the mass of people between us and the front door, more than a couple of girls grabbing at my arm to stop me. Something I wouldn’t normally mind, but rejection and boredom have long since set it, and I’m ready to call it for the night.
It’s nearly twenty degrees cooler outside the Kappa Sig house, and I follow Oakley over to where his car is parked on the side street.
“Thought you were going to get laid?” he says as we reach the car.
So did I.
I give him a shrug before sliding into the passenger seat, not necessarily wanting to get into the details. “Plans change.”
Oakley’s brow quirks as he hops in beside me. “And from how you’re trying to vaguely play it off, I’m assuming it wasn’t your idea.”
I open my mouth, ready to lie through my damn teeth, seeing as I’m not one to get bothered by striking out. But something about the way tonight went rubs me the wrong way. Enough to have me spilling the most minute details.
“There’s nothing like being cock-blocked by an overprotective bestie to ruin the night.”
He lets out a bark of laughter. “Why do I feel like this isn’t the first time that’s happened?”
“Because it’s not,” I say with a sigh, my eyes locking with Oakley’s in the darkened car. “And if we’re being honest, it probably won’t be the last either.”
Oakley laughs again before steering his car onto the streets, heading toward our empty townhouse.
At least, I’m assuming it’s empty, seeing as I saw two of our other roommates at the party.
Camden was the only one I didn’t catch sight of, but if there’s a party on campus—especially on Greek Row—he’s usually not far.
“Quit laughing at me.”
“Why? It’s funny.”
“Yeah, it’s hilarious,” I deadpan. “I wouldn’t be laughing at you if the roles were reversed.”
His brow arches, but he doesn’t look away from the road. “That’s a lie, and we both know it. You’d laugh, announce it at the party with a megaphone, and then keep laughing louder.”
Yeah, definitely sounds like something I’d do…
“Fair enough,” I mutter.
“You know better than anyone, it’s the life of a playboy to strike out once in a while.” He glances my way again. “Or is your ego too large to handle it?”
He’s not wrong about one thing: it’s undoubtedly par for the course to strike out every once in a while, though I wouldn’t classify myself as a playboy. Just a lover of many with a set of simple rules when it comes to hooking up that has yet to fail me thus far.
No cuddling or overnights. No strings with repeat hookups. And most importantly: no involving anyone’s fucking heart. Especially mine. And seeing as I don’t stick to one person long enough to get attached in the first place, this last one is pretty much a given.
Of course, that’s not to say attachment doesn’t happen on the other end of things, but I always make sure the score is known.
If whoever it is can’t hang—which isn’t very often—then feelings get hurt and shit ends badly.
Like getting bitch-slapped at parties or drinks thrown at me.
Or decked by boyfriends. Although those moments, specifically, are ones I’d rather not recollect.
So best friends looking out for each other isn’t uncommon, but it’s still a blow to the balls—
“Holden?” Oakley says, cutting through my thoughts.
I blink over at him. “What?”
He laughs and just shakes his head. “Your ego really must not be able to deal if you go all Twilight Zone on me after getting shot down.”
“I was thinking,” I say, an iciness to my tone that’s more playful than irritated.
“Something you’re not used to, obviously.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I laugh, my mood lightening despite his jabs. What’s a best friend without a little lighthearted roasting, anyway?
Or judgmental cock-blocking, it seems.
“Enough about me, where the hell did you disappear off to?” I ask, flipping the conversation back to him—anything to get my mind off Kason and the looks Phoenix was giving me.
Like I was the dirt beneath his shoe. Or the scourge of the Earth. Both make me feel like there’s some other dynamic I’m missing between me and Phoenix, despite having never met the guy before tonight.
Except, for some reason, I feel like I know him. More than knowing he’s on the baseball team or having vaguely recognized him from studying at the townhouse with Theo, seeing as they’re teammates.
“I was upstairs,” Oakley says, eyes focused on the road.
“With the stoners?” I let out a low whistle. “Damn, Oakie. I’ve always said you needed to let off steam, but I didn’t mean like that.”
“I wasn’t getting high,” he snaps, shooting me a glare. “Especially after all the shit de Haas went through earlier this season.”
Yeah, getting pegged for drug use isn’t really Oakley’s style.
“Were you hooking up with someone, then?”
His eyes shift to me. “Yeah, Hold. I took a page straight from your playbook and let someone get on their knees for me in the upstairs bathroom with a bunch of other people right outside. Best blowjob of my life; the scent of weed and stale beer truly was the best kind of aphrodisiac. I get why you enjoy it now. Ten outta ten, highly recommend.”
I snort out a laugh and shake my head at the snarky bullshit that just left his mouth, knowing it’s for sure that—a bunch of bullshit.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I muse. “I fuckin’ called it.”