Chapter 3 Brace Yourself
Brace Yourself
RILEY
Fucking Sam comes back before I have a chance to finish what I started, and for the first time, I’m not happy to see her. I fake it for her sake, though. It’s not really her fault. “Did you find your phone?”
“Yeah, one of the soccer guys fucking hid it before I left the party.” She rolls her dark brown eyes and plops on her bed, staring down at the screen like she’s reading something important, then tosses it aside. “Are you okay? You look… flustered. I thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Samira is one of those naturally beautiful girls that don’t need an ounce of makeup, and somehow I know she’d never end up in the position I’m in. She’d have kicked him in the balls, broke his phone, and then covered him in baby oil for good measure.
“Flustered is one word,” I agree. “One of the soccer guys came by earlier to haze you and found me instead.”
“Oh fuck. Sorry about that. Any chance you know which one it was so I know who to hide from?”
My stomach twists as I nod. “Elias Reyes, but you don’t need to hide from him.
I guess he thought I was cute, so he told me if I pretend to date him, he doesn’t have to haze you — and therefore won’t ruin our dorm room.
” I don’t tell her about the rest, I can’t.
Normal, rational people would’ve called the cops.
I just don’t want it ever coming out and potentially ruining my career. “I took that deal.”
“Shut up!” She jumps up and moves closer. “I’m sorry you had to, but you’re a real one, sis. Damn. Elias Reyes? That honestly doesn’t sound like him. He’s loud as hell, I thought he’d be all over this stupid prank stuff.”
I’m so shocked.
“Yeah, well. I’ll go on a couple of bullshit dates with him to save your ass and call it a day. It’ll be fine.”
It almost certainly won’t be, but hey.
“Did you think he was hot? You should fuck him at least and get something out of this deal.”
Speak of the devil.
Soccer Boy
Rule #1: No falling in love with me.
“He’s hot, but the world is full of hot guys. You know what it’s not full of? Decent ones,” I grumble.
Me
Oh, sweetie. Don’t worry. There’s zero chance of that happening.
Sorry, guess you’ll have to delete that one too.
Sam frowns. “Was he a dick about it?”
Soccer Boy
Yeah, probably. So say something nice about me.
Ugh. “Kinda, yeah. But that’s jocks in general, isn’t it? They think the world revolves around them and that girls like me should just be happy they’re giving us the time of day.”
Me
Your shirt looked soft.
I swear I can hear his stupid, cocky laugh from here.
Soccer Boy
Okay, that’s too lovey dovey. Tone it down, cupcake.
“Ugh,” she groans. “I didn’t know he was like that too, but I guess I don’t know him much at all.
I just know he’s hot and he’s even hotter when he speaks Spanish.
It kills me when they roll their R’s, but I digress.
I’ll just have to prank him for being a bitch.
Just because he’s out of the game doesn’t mean I am. ”
“And if he decides to retaliate, all of this will be for nothing.”
“Shit,” she hisses. “Okay, fine I won’t prank him. Is that who you’re texting?”
“Trying to ignore is more accurate.”
Me
Glad I went with that one then.
Sam pulls her long, black hair out of her hair tie and ruffles it. “Ugh, that sucks. I was hoping you’d at least have a good time.”
Soccer Boy
So romantic. Anyway, do you have any rules here?
“I might, he’s just… a lot,” I admit, trying to figure out how to answer him.
“He’s very intense and doesn’t listen well at all.
Like a disobedient puppy. Adorable, but a huge pain in the ass and if you’re not careful, he’ll eat your shoes when you’re not looking.
” Or send out a video of you masturbating to all of his friends, teammates and classmates.
Me
No kissing. You can hold my hand and kiss my cheek, but no lips, no copping a feel, nothing under the clothes at all. I hate PDA.
Sam takes off her shirt and tosses it in the hamper with a groan. “I hate when they’re so adorable they’re hard to train. His dimples should honestly be a crime.”
Soccer Boy
That’s going to make things difficult. You’re going to have to sit on my lap at least or no one is going to believe you’re mine.
My stomach flips violently at the thought. She’s right — his dimples are a crime, and he’s too hot for me to remain objective if I’m sitting on his lap. I’m in way over my head here, and I’m starting to think having my dorm room destroyed would be easier.
Me
Fine. Anything else I should know?
Grabbing her shower caddy, Sam tells me she’ll be back in a bit, my gaze locked on those three little dots as Eli types.
Soccer Boy
My roommate might grill you a little bit, and since you’re not asking shit, I’ll just tell you.
I’m majoring in photography. My favorite color is blue.
I don’t have a favorite food, there’s too many amazing options out there to pick, but my favorite ice cream is mint chip and I will argue its defense like that sister was a witch dude.
Grow up, Doug. My favorite movie is The Emperor's New Groove. Favorite show is Parks and Recreation because “treat yo self” is a motto we all need. Umm oh, my sister’s name is Juliana, she’s a sophomore here.
My dad is Ricky and retired from the MLS when I was like eleven or so.
I’m not allergic to anything and my dick is just shy of eight inches but I already told Vito we haven’t fucked yet so you don’t have to pretend to know more than that. Study up, cupcake.
Oh, and you should probably know I'm a defender. #5
Even more reason not to fuck him. I’m not a champ, and eight inches sounds like a one-way trip to a grave. But I have to admit, I’m relieved to know he’s telling people at least a little bit of the truth. It’ll make it easier to show less affection if people know we’re not intimate like that.
Me
You know I have no idea what that means, right? I know what a soccer ball is and what a goal looks like, but that’s where my soccer knowledge ends. I hope you didn’t tell your friends I was a fan.
Soccer Boy
I assumed you weren’t, but you’re going to have to come watch me play eventually.
Me
How long do we have to do this?
Soccer Boy
Until we’re married.
The smile it brings to my face makes me want to stab him. I shouldn’t be feeling anything at all but irritation, yet here I am, grinning and blushing over text messages, picturing the way he laughs at Parks and Rec.
It’s dangerous and stupid.
Grateful no one can see the redness in my cheeks, I lay back on my bed and stare at the ceiling, wondering how long I can actually keep this up — and maybe more importantly, what Dennis is going to say when I tell him.
We aren’t emotionally involved, but we are exclusive.
It was easier that way for both of us. We can get what we need, blow off a little steam, but we’re not obligated to go to each other’s family gatherings or ask about each other’s day.
It’s neat, clean, and I’ve never once had to wonder if I had feelings for him or not, because I don’t.
But with Elias, everything is different. It feels like chaos and lunacy, the two things I try to stay away from, and every minute that passes just seems to make it worse.
I’m not sure I’m bracing myself quite hard enough.