Chapter 19
Nadia
The credits runon the latest episode of Springfield and I sigh in annoyance. “You know, Jane really is a dumbass for trusting Rich like that.”
“Mmhmm,” I tilt my head to look at Axel, and see that his eyes have fluttered shut. “Total dumbass.”
“Axe,” I say, shutting the laptop and setting it on the floor.
“Yeah, darlin’?” He rolls into me and shoves his hand in between my thighs, his preferred sleeping position.
“I think you need to sleep.” I kiss his chin. “And I didn’t plan on spending the night and don’t have any of my stuff with me, so I’m going to head back to the Teal House.”
His eyelids pop open. “Fuck no, you’re not walking back by yourself this late.”
I hadn’t come over until nine, after my shift at the gym. He also had a late night at the arena, first on the ice, then watching film with the team. This weekend is their final game before the winter break–against their rival, Milton. Who, from what I understand, is the team they lost to in the championship last season.
“It’s just a couple of blocks.”
“I know how far it is, and I’m not comfortable with my girl walking back by herself.” He covers a yawn with his fist. “I can either get up and walk you back or you can stay over. You pick.”
He’s naked in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, his warm skin flush against my body. The idea of leaving is hard, but clean pajamas are the least of my concerns. My period started that morning and I’ve got one of those unrelenting heavy flows for the first twenty-four hours. I need supplies. Looking down at him, his eyes are already shut, sleep taking over. I brush this hair off his forehead. “I’ll be back.”
His grip tightens. “Where are you going?”
“Girl stuff,” I say. “Let me see if Twy can help.”
“Okay.” He reluctantly releases me. “But don’t leave without me, got it?”
Cocky fuckboy Axel is super hot, but protective boyfriend Axel? I’m about to melt from the inside out.
“I won’t,” I reply, easing off the bed. I grab his hockey hoodie and pull it over my head, before opening the bedroom door. When I glance back, he’s already fast asleep.
I cross the narrow hall and pause outside of Reese’s door, listening to see if they’re quiet, maybe already asleep. If they’re awake… I’m listening for a sign I shouldn’t interrupt.
Twyler and I are still navigating this new arrangement, one she has originally been vehemently against. I understood her concerns. Even before the situation with Brent and CJ, I’d been getting into increasingly risky situations. I’d get on the dating apps and agree to meet up with guys on the football team in the middle of the night. I took no precautions. It was dangerous and dumb, trying to work my way in as a jersey chaser. All it did was get me in trouble and she didn’t want that trouble messing with the hockey team.
But my relationship isn’t about late night hook-ups or trying to elevate my status. It’s about being with this amazing guy who has taken the time to get to know me.
Reese’s room sounds quiet other than the soft murmur of a video playing. Knowing Twyler they’re watching murder shows and there’s nothing unsexier than that. I knock, rapping my knuckles on the door. A moment later it opens a crack and a shirtless Reese Cain fills the gap. “What–oh.” His eyes widen, and his hand drops down below the waist. Is he naked? “Hey.”
I look at the wall next to his face. “Can I talk to Twy for a second?”
“Yeah, sure.” He clears his throat and glances back. “It’s for you.”
I hear the rustle of bedsheets and realize this was a terrible idea. Twyler and I are best friends and I’ve always been pretty open about my sex life, but she’s much more private. I’ve probably just crossed a million lines and any progress we’d made about this situation is most likely ruined.
Reese vanishes and a moment later Twyler takes his place. Her forehead is furrowed. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Her immediate concern is both unnecessary and a little jarring. Just because I’m knocking on her boyfriend’s door doesn’t mean something’s wrong.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say. “I just… do you have any tampons?”
“Oh, uh, sure.” She turns away and I hear her tell Reese she’ll be back in a minute. She steps into the hallway and shuts the door behind her. “I left my backpack downstairs.”
“Great.” I give her the once over, noting the black hoodie identical to the one I’m wearing. The only difference is the number stitched on the chest and her legs are bare while I’m wearing leggings. “Looks like we match.”
“It’s so weird,” she mutters, heading down the stairs. “You know that, right?”
“That we’re both sleeping with hockey players who happen to be best friends?”
She looks at me over her shoulder. “There’s that, but I mean, it makes a lot more sense that you’re here than I am.”
“Is it?” I ask. “You’re surrounded by athletes twenty-four-seven. It makes way more sense than me being here. I didn’t even care about hockey.”
“Yeah, but you’re the kind of girl they like. You make sense here.” She nods at the hoodie. “That shirt looks like it was made for you.” She tugs at the hem of Reese’s oversized shirt that swamps her small frame. “I’m pretty sure most of them still think of me as a brother.”
“Does it matter as long as Reese doesn’t?” I follow her over to the couch where her backpack sits on the floor. “Because you’re definitely the kind of girl he likes. A lot.”
“True.” Her cheeks turn pink at the compliment and even though I know Twyler carries her own insecurities, Reese has made it perfectly clear how much he loves her. There’s no reason for her to question herself. “Sometimes I still feel like I’m in a bizarro world.”
She unzips the pocket on the side, pulling out a couple of tampons and handing them over. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. I came straight from work and didn’t plan on spending the night. We started watching a show and it got late. Axel didn’t want me walking back alone.”
She makes a face.
“What?” I ask.
“That was very gentlemanly of him.”
“He’s a preacher’s kid from Texas, I think it’s programmed into his DNA.”
“But, and tell me if I’m understanding this correctly,” her eyebrow cocks, “you’re spending the night here and not having sex.”
“You’re understanding it correctly.”
“Wow.” She sinks into the couch.
I narrow my eyes at her. “What are you going on about?”
“I just didn’t know he did that. Had girls sleep over without hooking up.” She makes an apologetic face. “Not to be a bitch, but I’ve spent a lot of nights here, and for most of them, he wasn’t here. And for the few that he was, and he wasn’t alone, it was pretty obvious that no one was sleeping.”
I sit next to her. “Well, if that blows your mind, then you’ll be even more surprised to find out that we’ve been hanging out for weeks, spending the night with one another here and there, and only just started having sex.”
Her expression seems genuinely shocked. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I didn’t even give him a blow job until yesterday.” I’ve thought about it all day, how sweet he was when I got on my knees, how he let me take control. I loved the way he gazed down at me when I kissed him for the first time, tasting the salty pre-cum on the tip. But the best part was when he came, completely lost. I felt powerful. “Although he did eat me out in the laundry room before Thanksgiving.”
Her eyes dart to the laundry room. “Okay that sounds more on brand, for both of you.”
“We’ve taken this slower than you’d think. Like, actually getting to know one another.” I glance over at my friend. “I like him, Twy, a lot.”
“And you’re okay not knowing where this is going? Because Reese says he’s been pretty adamant about not going pro.”
“I’m well aware of his family obligations.” I pull the cuffs of the hoodie over my hands. “I’ve never had a long term boyfriend before and I don’t think he’s ever dated anyone seriously. We’ve agreed to take it day by day and we’ll see where we are at around graduation.”
I can tell she wants to ask a million more questions, but this is where Twyler and I are different. She’s had her life planned out for ages and the biggest struggle for her and Reese was coming up with a compromise on those goals. Now that they are, they’re happier, and more focused, than ever.
For the first time in my life, I’m happy now. I’m not going to ruin it by worrying about tomorrow.
“Come on.” I stand and hold up the tampons. “I need to go take care of this and get some sleep.”
We’re halfway up the stairs when she suddenly stops and faces me. “Other than the laundry room, are there any other public places I need to disinfect?”
I laugh, there’s no hiding that Twyler thinks I’m messy. “No. We’ve been hooking up in our rooms, well,” I think on it, “and his truck.”
“Okay,” she starts climbing, “good.”
“Well, there was yesterday, but that’s not anywhere you need to worry about.”
“Where’s that?” She makes a face. “Or do I not want to know.”
“On campus. The tutoring room.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Room 110?”
I snort. “Yep.”
“That son of a—” She lunges forward, taking the remaining stairs two at a time. “That’s where I gave him a blow job for the first time, too!”
I hold back a laugh, and race after her, but she’s already flung open the door to Reese’s bedroom. Inside, he sits up on the bed, still shirtless but wearing shorts. His expression turns wary when he sees his girlfriend’s face.
“Is this a thing you guys do?” she blurts, before he can speak. “Some kind of bet?”
“Woah, Sunshine,” he looks over her head at me and I shrug. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Room 110!”
Reese grimaces, walks over, and as he shuts the door in my face I hear him say, “Twy, calm down.”
Axel’s bedroom door opens and he walks over, rubbing his head. His hair sticks up all over and he wraps his arms around me. “What’s she losing her mind about?”
“Room 110. Apparently, we’re not the only ones that hooked up in there.” I lean into his warm body. “Did you know that?”
“Honestly, no.” He scratches my back. “You’re the first girl I’ve met up with there, and I can promise you that you’ll definitely be the last.”
“Why’s that?”
“I want that memory seared in my mind forever.” He pushes the hood aside on his sweatshirt and licks a spot on my shoulder. “Completely untainted by anything or anyone else.”
This man.
Voices rise behind Reese’s door. “Should we go tell them?” I ask. “Let them know it seems like an unfortunate coincidence?”
“Eh, a fight is good for those two.” He nudges me back into his room. “The make up sex will be worth it.”
If there’sa measure to test if my Blacklisting still stands, it’s my communications class. The same cloak of silence exists between me and the varsity athletes Brent told to ice me out. A few weeks ago their approval had seemed so important. Their rejection had felt so painful. Now, I’m embarrassed I ever wanted validation from these guys.
It feels like a clear indicator that I’ve left that toxic part of my life behind.
Brent can have me ostracized all he wants. But what I’ve come to realize is that I don’t need these guys or acceptance by any exclusive group on campus. I’ve got an amazing best friend, and the sexiest, most supportive boyfriend.
I’m good. Really good.
“In conclusion,” Austin says from the front of the class. Rocky, his partner, stands next to him. “That’s why we think student athletes should receive a salary from the University, like any other employee.”
Rocky nods, throwing up a fist in support.
“Thank you,” our professor says. “That was a very persuasive presentation.”
I blink, wondering how this educator manages to live with supporting such bullshit. The past five minutes were painful to witness. Rocky ad-libbed his part, and Austin didn’t even make the effort to remove his headphones. By the smug grins on their face, it’s clear that they think they hit this one out of the ballpark, and I’m sure they’ll be getting another ‘A’ to add to their transcript.
Austin has to pass me on the way back to his seat, and his massive thigh slams into the side of my desk. The action is jarring–my laptop jolting.
“My bad,” he says with a smirk.
I open my mouth to say something back but shut it. He’s not worth it.
Although, that doesn’t keep the person next to me from muttering, “Asshole,” under his breath.
I’m certain I’m the only one that can hear Eric’s insult, and I give him a grateful smile as he adjusts my laptop back to the middle of my desk.
Our professor, oblivious to anything going on, approaches the lectern. “Those were very compelling presentations today.” I seriously wonder how much extra he gets paid to ignore his integrity to babysit these morons and give them a passing grade. I hope it’s a lot. “The final groups will present at the next class.”
We’re dismissed and Eric hangs back. “At least we know the bar for a good grade isn’t set too high.” He watches as the rest of the class files out. “That last one wasn’t even coherent.”
It seems, like me, Eric realized he’s never going to work his way into that group on anything more than a superficial level, and I guess he’d rather get an A on our project than kiss jock ass.
“Yeah we should have this one in the bag,” I agree, tucking my stuff into my backpack. “Do you want to practice one more time?”
He makes a face. “Not really.”
“Same.” I sling the strap over my shoulder. “I’m ready to move on from this class.”
“So listen,” he says on the way out of the room, “my frat is having a New Year’s Eve party after the break if you’re back early. I wanted to invite you.”
“Are you sure about that? You saw what happened in there. I’m still pretty much a pariah on campus.”
“I think everyone, but those Neanderthals have moved past that.”
“You think so?”
He nods. “Seriously. No one else cares.”
Axel has a game on Saturday and neither of us have been going out much, but it may be fun to blow off some end of semester steam. “Okay, I’ll think about it,” I say, then add, “you know this is just as friends, right? I’m seeing someone.”
“I don’t know. I think we’re a little more than friends,” he says, taking me by surprise. “We’re survivors of Communications 204. Never doubt the way it’s bonded us.”
I laugh. “Seriously. We may need a T-shirt.”
“Bring your boyfriend,” he says. “Rakestraw, right?”
My heart flip-flops just at hearing his name. “Right.”
“Just make sure you wear something red or green–that’s the theme.”
“Sounds fun. We’ll try to make it.” I look at my watch. “Shit, I gotta run. I have a shift at work.”
Running late is kind of my thing, but I manage to make through the doors right as my shift starts. “Hey,” I say to Brian who is already working behind the counter. “Is Abby here?”
“Nope. She had a meeting of some kind so you’re in the clear.”
“I’m right on time.” I take off my jacket and then Axel’s hoodie, to reveal my work shirt. “Although, I had to cut through the student center instead of going around it.” I grin. “Saved me five minutes.”
“Unfortunately, all you’re on time for is to go handle a mess someone reported in the spin room.” He holds up a bucket filled with cleaners and rags. “Good luck.”
I wrinkle my nose. In a gym, a ‘mess’ could be anything from spilled water to vomit. Especially after a hard class.
Taking the bucket, I head to the back of the gym, to the room used for spin. There’s no class right now so the lights are off and I push through the unlocked door. Sometimes people come in here and work on their own, but it’s empty.
Or I think it is, until I see the shadow of someone leaning against the instructor’s bike.
“Holy shit,” I exclaim, heart thudding in my ears. “Brent? What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“I don’t know why.” I look around the room searching for a mess. It strikes me then, that there is no mess. This was just a way to get me alone. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“I’ve given you space and time to think about our last conversation.” He straightens and walks toward me. “Now that the football season is over, it’s time to get serious.”
“Look, you had me blacklisted. None of the football, basketball, or baseball teams will acknowledge me. I haven’t been to a party on Greek Row in months. And that’s fine. I accept it. I’ve held up to my end of the deal–not going to the police and you need to hold up to yours by leaving me the fuck alone.”
His eyebrow arches. “Impressive speech–how long have you been practicing that?”
“God, you’re infuriating. None of this is happening, Brent. It’s not like you need the money. And I know you were helping CJ out before but come on, you and I both know making money off of me on LonelyFans isn’t going to help him in the long run.” I take a step back. “I have no fucking clue why you’re so obsessed with it.”
Then it hits me. Maybe, after all this time I was wrong about how Brent felt about me. I thought he saw me as a piece of trash to be used and tossed away, handed over to his friends, but now… God. What if I was reading this wrong the whole time? Maybe Brent isn’t obsessed with exploiting me. Maybe he’s just obsessed with me.
My reaction is to blurt, “I have a boyfriend.”
“Rakestraw?” He cuts his eyes at me. “You realize that out of every man on this campus, he’s the one that knew what you were capable of.” He crowds me against one of the bikes. “He knows exactly how slutty and desperate you are. You think he didn’t want a taste of that for himself?”
“That’s not true.”
“No?” He scoffs. “How long did it take for you to fuck him? One date?”
The memory of our first night together comes back. The epic fuck-up.
As if he’s reading my mind, he chokes out a laugh. “Less? A one-night stand? God, you’re more pathetic than I realized.” I can’t come up with the words to defend myself, so he just continues to pick apart my life. “Let me guess, after that, he agreed to go slow. Take his time with you because of everything you’ve been through.” His grin is wide and mean. “He got you to trust him, didn’t he?”
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with Axel.”
“But that’s the thing, Nadia, I do. I know him, because I am him, and he’s me. We’re all the same, testosterone-fueled alpha males who want the one thing we can’t have.”
“You could have had me,” I whisper. “I would have done anything.”
I did do anything and that’s the whole problem.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” He leans toward me, mouth close to my ear. “You’re the forbidden fruit. The vixen who will play out in our every fantasy. You’re the one we want to fuck. To secret away and keep for our own. But you’re also the one that won’t make it past our PR teams, or get parental approval. They want the girl next door. A woman that knows how to smile and say the right thing to the press. That have perfected how to look on the sidelines, or wearing a pristine white dress as they lock us into marriage. They glow while carrying our babies. Those women convince the world that we’re the All-American heroes worthy of the millions they pay us to lead their team–their city–to victory.” His fingers graze down my arm as he describes his current girlfriend, Shanna. “But they don’t ignite the hunger in us that a woman like you does. They don’t make me hard with only a dirty, secret, look. Or the knowledge that you’ll let me do whatever I want, whenever I want, for as long as I want. It’s not that we don’t want you, baby, it’s that we want you too fucking much.”
Somewhere during his speech I’ve become frozen. My breath trapped deep in my throat. He takes advantage of my silence and adds, “Before you think that your boyfriend is different, let me explain it to you. There is no future for you with Axel Rakestraw regardless of if he goes to the NHL or heads into the family business.” He nods when I startle. “Yeah, I know all about Daddy Rakestraw and his multi-million dollar religious Kingdom. Axel is the heir and those people will never accept a piece of trash like you.” He presses his hips into me, forcing the hard line of his erection into my lower belly. “You’re better off working for me, than being nothing at all.”
I recoil at his touch and snap into motion, shoving him back with both hands.
“Talk to me again, I’m going to the police.”
The grin he responds with tells me he doesn’t believe that I have the guts to do it.
That makes two of us.