CHAPTER 28
MATTY
We were walking back into the facility after practice, our cleats clacking against the concrete. Out of habit, my eyes drifted toward the parking lot. To where that one familiar car still hadn’t returned.
I didn’t care. Not about that, at least.
What I cared about was Ophelia.
Something felt off. The way she’d looked this afternoon before practice, tired and distracted, like her head was somewhere far away.
Jace and Parker were arguing about the proper Taylor Swift song ranking when the words slipped out. “I think something’s wrong with Ophelia.”
They both glanced over. Parker frowned. “What do you mean?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know. I think I might’ve…scared her.”
Jace slowed, studying me. “Scared her how?”
I didn’t answer right away. I knew exactly what I’d done—and that it might’ve been a lot.
“Well, I tattooed her,” I said finally.
There was a beat of silence—Parker blinking, Jace’s mouth parting in surprise. Then Jace grinned like Christmas had come early and lifted his hand for a high five.
“Matty, my boy,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “You have officially leveled up.”
Parker just stared at me, looking intrigued. “You tattooed her?”
“Yeah.” I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “And now I think she’s freaking out about it.”
“Did you do it while she was sleeping?” Jace asked, not seeming particularly concerned if I had.
I could feel the heat climb up my neck. For a second, my mind flashed back to how exactly she’d been sleeping right before I did it—with my cock in her mouth—and I had to clear my throat before speaking.
“She was awake,” I said quickly, ignoring their amused, knowing stares at the weirdness in my voice. “And she seemed happy about it. I think.”
Parker’s eyebrows shot up. “You, think?”
“She’d seemed happy…but then she said she wanted to sleep in her room tonight,” I added, and both of them froze like I’d just announced a death in the family.
“She what?” Jace demanded. “No. Absolutely not.”
Parker shook his head, scandalized. “After the tattoo? That’s…not good.”
I let out a humorless laugh, dragging a hand down my face. “I mean, it’s probably not a big deal. Normal couples have some space…especially when they’ve just started dating, right?”
They both stared at me like I’d just admitted to having eaten paint chips as a kid.
“Right?” I added weakly.
Jace blinked once. “Matty, that might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Which is truly saying something.”
I growled at the fact that Jace was the one confidently saying that.
Parker nodded. “Space is how relationships die, man. You’re supposed to suffocate them—with love.”
I groaned. “Yeah, you’re right. I think I need to convince her to move in with me. Make sure she knows space is not allowed in this relationship.”
Jace clapped his hands together. “Now that’s the energy I like to hear. We’ll help.”
Parker grinned. “We could release a possum in her dorm. No one’s staying after that.”
Jace’s head whipped toward him. “What the hell, Parker? That’s your idea of help?
You realize we’d be the ones catching the possum, right?
Because I don’t think Matty could do it.
I’m not getting rabies for his romance schemes.
There has to be a line somewhere. And I think it’s at possums… and possibly sharks.”
Parker shrugged. “Fine. Fire alarm? Maybe her window ‘breaks’ mysteriously, and she can’t sleep there until maintenance fixes it.”
Jace leaned in, nodding thoughtfully. “Or we stage a haunting. I’ve got a speaker and a fog machine left over from Halloween. Couple eerie whispers at three a.m., maybe a silhouette in her mirror—boom, she’s out.”
“Or we fake a campus mold infestation,” Parker added. “Black mold. Gets ’em every time.”
I stared at them both, torn between horror and admiration. “You two are actually insane.”
Jace grinned. “Maybe. But we’re not the ones letting our freshly tattooed girlfriend sleep somewhere else.”
“Yeah,” Parker said, crossing his arms. “You better fix that before she starts thinking she can, like, breathe without you.”
Jace shivered, like the idea of that was terrifying to him. “How long have you two been together now? Feels like FiFi has been with us forever.”
“Seventeen days, eleven hours, and twenty-three minutes,” I said automatically.
Both of them side-eyed me.
Jace blinked, then let out a low whistle. “Matty Adler. A true Machiavelli.”
Parker frowned. “Did you mean mathematician? Because what you just said makes no sense.”
Jace tilted his head, considering it. “Maybe. Possibly. I’ll let the big brains debate it.
” He pointed at me. “What I do know is that you just permanently branded a girl you’ve been with for exactly seventeen days, eleven hours, and twenty-three minutes.
Probably twenty-four minutes now. That’s definitely too long to go without moving her in. ”
Parker nodded. “You definitely need to escalate your wooing.”
“The coffee cup he stole from me would say he’s already escalated,” Jace deadpanned.
Parker lifted an eyebrow in confusion, and I let out a silent hallelujah that Jace hadn’t told him that little story yet.
My use of that coffee cup was another memory that gave me an instant erection, though, so I really needed to redirect.
Parker crossed his arms, leaning back on his heels. “So, what’s it gonna be, then? It’s best to go into these things with a plan. We would know.”
They would know, the little psychos.
Although it was becoming very clear to me that I’d joined them.
“Ooh, I came up with a few more. We could file a fake maintenance request claiming a gas leak. Whole building gets evacuated; she’s forced to stay with you. Easy,” offered Jace eagerly.
Parker snapped his fingers. “Or you could sign her up for a campus pest control inspection. And we could order those bedbugs again.”
I grimaced thinking of when Jace had opened the box and how they’d looked crawling around in the jar they’d been shipped in.
They’d been disgusting…but effective.
Jace shook his head. “That takes too long to ship. Matty-kins wouldn’t last forty-eight hours before he started climbing the walls.”
A week of space felt impossible. Fuck, a day did. The idea of her sleeping somewhere else had my pulse spiking.
I couldn’t end up like Parker, snapping and committing a felony all in the name of love.
And I was too pretty for prison.
“Or,” Jace said, his eyes lighting up like he’d just solved world hunger, “we flood her room. Burst a pipe, clog the drains, whatever. Whole floor’s underwater by morning. Building gets evacuated. She’s got nowhere to go but your place.”
I stared at him. “You want to drown her dorm?”
“Not drown,” he corrected, rolling his eyes. “Displace. Temporarily inconvenience. It would be very romantic.”
Parker tilted his head, considering. “Could work. But if you want maximum chaos, I say we unleash a pack of dogs in there. Let ’em pee everywhere. Instant biohazard. RA calls it in, health department shuts the floor down for a week.”
“Where the hell are you going to get a bunch of dogs?” I asked, thinking I actually liked that idea.
Parker grinned. “I bet Walker could help us out. Geraldine has a bunch.”
I shivered at the mention of Geraldine. The eighty-something-year old-woman lived on the same floor as Walker’s teammate, Camden.
I’d met her at Thanksgiving. She’d smiled at me over gravy and said dramatically as she’d sipped a weird, glowing cocktail, I want you in my collection.
I still don’t know what she meant, but it had made Ari Lancaster furious, so I didn’t think I actually wanted to know.
Jace snapped his fingers. “Combine it. Flood and dogs. Wet dogs. Smells like wet dog piss. Uninhabitable. She’ll be begging to crash with you.”
I dragged a hand down my face, somewhere between laughing and genuinely concerned for their mental health. “I still can’t believe we’re talking about all of this with straight faces.”
“Believe it, bubs,” Jace said, clapping me on the shoulder. “The No Drama Llamas get results. And our girlfriends do not get away.”
I had to agree with that one. No, they did not.
“If none of those sound good, you can always force her to marry you,” Parker added, grinning.
I couldn’t help it. A small, involuntary smile slipped out.
“Yeah,” I said, deadpan. “Maybe I will.”
We’d just stepped inside the building, the door clicking shut behind us, and both of them went dead quiet.
Jace’s jaw dropped, his eyes lighting up like I’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket. “Fuck, yes! Shotgun wedding, baby! I’m obviously the best man, Parkie-Poo. Sorry, but I look far better in a tuxedo, and we do have the pictures to think about…”
Parker looked like he was thinking hard. “What about instead of Vegas, we do it on the fifty-yard line, midnight, stadium lights on? Jace can hack the Jumbotron—‘Matty + Ophelia 4Ever’—in neon. I’ll get ordained online so I can officiate.”
They were vibrating, already mapping logistics, voices overlapping, with pure, terrifying excitement.
I stared at them in awestruck horror for a solid ten seconds, then snorted, shaking my head.
“Relax, psychos. I think I can start with one of your other ideas first.”
Jace skidded to a halt. Parker’s grin faltered.
I shrugged, still smirking. “For now.”
Sweat coated my skin, the sheets snagging my thighs as Ophelia’s scent curled into my lungs. Her weight pinned me as she straddled my hips, squeezing tight as she rocked up and down.
Her dark blonde hair spilled like a curtain, grazing my chest, tickling my skin with every roll of her hips. Her copper eyes bore into mine as she rocked, each grind dragging a low groan from my throat. My hands dug into her hips, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as I guided her rhythm.
“Fuck, Ophelia,” I growled as I urged her to move faster. Her breasts bounced, nipples tight, pink peaks grazing my chest, begging for my teeth. Her pale skin was flushed, and sweat was beading between her breasts, dripping onto me.