CHAPTER THREE
The puck bunnies can have him
VANESSA
There is a steady thump at the front of my head that makes me want to vomit. I peek one eye open and notice that there’s an arm draped over my body. A very heavy and muscular arm.
This is not my bedroom.
My eyes slowly adjust to the sunlight that’s streaming through the window. The curtains are white and allow way too much light through them.
Oh God, what the hell did I do last night?
Who the hell did I do last night?
I glance beneath the blankets, happy to see my underwear is still on, but somehow the only other item of clothing on my body is a baggy black T-shirt that doesn’t belong to me.The bright morning sun makes me wince—the pounding in my head only worsens.
Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.
The last thing I remember from last night was dancing with Sydney and Maddie, then meeting the cute guy who was watching us dance.
Shit, What was his name? It was something small and four letters. Alex? Tate?
No, those both sound wrong.
I turn my head and look over at the nameless guy sleeping next to me. He’s much bigger than I remember. The hand that’s lying flat across my stomach is probably double the size of mine. If I wasn’t so hungover I’d want him to wrap it around me.
I look to the bedside table and find my glasses neatly tucked to the side. At least I was smart enough to not fall asleep with them on. Again.
I put my glasses on and glance back at the sleeping giant whose arm still rests on my stomach.
Jake .
Okay, it’s somewhat coming back to me now. I remember him introducing himself and buying us drinks. I can’t believe he actually stuck his hand out and shook my hand while telling me his name. That is not something that happens often.
This hangover is brutal. I’m never mixing different alcohols ever again. I need a huge glass of water and an ibuprofen, or I might vomit all over his room.
That would be a nightmare.
Slowly I remove his arm from my waist and climb out of the bed. I take a quick glance around the room and find an open door leading to an attached bathroom. Thank God . I did not want to explore this potential frat house alone. Who knows who could be lurking in the halls?
Please let this guy have a stash of ibuprofen in here.
I quietly make my way to the bathroom and turn the light on to find some type of medicine. My eyes wince at the LED lights above the mirror.Even I don’t have this nice of lighting in my bathroom.
I move to turn off the light switch when I catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. My curls from last night are a little tangled and my mascara is smeared. I look completely different from the put-together, hot-as-hell girl I was last night.
I leave the bathroom and quickly scan the room, looking for my discarded clothing. There’s a desk tucked in the corner of the room next to the bathroom door that has books neatly situated on its shelf. He has two tall, sand-colored wardrobes along the wall across from his bed, with a TV positioned in between them. In the center of the room is his bed, which has gorgeous white linens. It’s easily king-sized and for the brief moment I was in it, it was the comfiest thing I’ve ever slept in.
I didn’t think a guy could be so clean. This is completely different from the other rooms I’ve been in. This guy is organized, and his room is well-decorated, not like the typical blue plaid sheets and a banner saying Saturdays are for the boys .
At the foot of the bed, I find my black dress tossed into a ball.
Okay, clearly I didn’t care where I discarded that last night.
I move to grab my dress and start pulling it on when a groan escapes from the bed. I whip my head to the side to see Jake yawning and sitting up.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” he mumbles, barely audible. His voice is so deep it sends shivers through my body.
I think my feet might be frozen to this spot.I have half of his shirt off my body and my dress halfway up my thighs. I’m also 100 percent sure that my ass is hanging out. Quickly, I pull the T-shirt back on to cover myself.
“Oh, I…uh, don’t normally stick around after drunken hookups.”
I walk back toward his bathroom to change, and he chuckles low. His laugh is even deeper, it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. So velvety, yet hoarse at the same time.I could listen to him talk all day.
No. No, I can’t. I have to go home.
I close the door slightly, allowing myself enough privacy to change from his borrowed shirt into my dress. It shouldn’t matter because I’m sure he saw more of me last night.
Oh my god , Sydney and Maddie are going to freak out when I get home. Do they even know where I am? Did I bring my phone home from the bar?
I walk out of the bathroom as Jake is pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants but still shirtless with his rock-hard abs on display for the world. I have to stop myself from drooling, admiring his toned body. Of course he’s wearing gray sweats . Why is it that when guys wear them, they immediately become sexier? The cotton material hugs his thighs and the hemline dips far enough for me to see the deep V leading to his groin.
I’m definitely staring. I need to stop.
I avert my eyes from his groin, and I’m greeted by his smirk. Yup, he definitely noticed me checking him out.
Fuck. My. Life.
“Just to ease your conscience, we didn’t hook up last night.” He grabs a shirt out of one of his drawers and pulls it over his head. “We both got shit-faced and came back here. I put you in one of my shirts after you stripped off your dress and passed out.”
Of course I did, how classy of me. I did say that I wanted to go home with a guy who would take my dress off me. Guess it didn’t really turn out as planned. I should’ve been more specific.
“But if you’re still interested, I mean maybe we can give it a go another time.” He winks at me, and my insides turn to mush.
I can already imagine what the sex with him would be like. He seems like the type of guy who would drill into me so hard I wouldn’t be able to walk properly for the next week. It would be filled with lust, sweat, and a million different positions, but right now all I want is a coffee and for my headache to stop pounding.
“Well…thanks for the somewhat fun night but I really have to get going. My roommates and I have breakfast every Sunday.” Why did I feel the need to share that with him?
Jake smiles at me, his teeth so white they could blind me. His fluffy curls fall into his face and he uses his hand to push it back, revealing his gorgeous blue eyes. They’re a deeper shade of blue, like a hydrangea. His tanned skin mixed with his chiseled body make him look like a damn Greek god.
I find my phone on the floor next to the bed— nice one, Vanessa. It’s probably dead by now.
“Do you want to grab coffee or something later?” His voice falters for a moment as I reach for the door to leave.
I realize I never responded about hooking up at a different time. It could be fun, but I don’t have time for anything serious, and who knows what he’s looking for. Although I have an inkling that he knows exactly how to please a woman.
God, Vanessa, get your head out of the gutter. Stop thinking of him like a piece of meat.
I open the door but pause. Striking out not only once, but twice yesterday has put me in a depressed mood. I’d rather quit while I’m ahead. I’m also late for breakfast.
Hoes before bros.
I smile at Jake but decline his offer. “Thanks, but I gotta get going.”
For a second I swear I saw a hurt expression flash across his face, but the second I noticed it, it was gone and replaced by a smirk.
“No worries. It was nice meeting you, Vanessa.”
I make my way down the stairs and past a living room on one side and a kitchen on the other. Normally the nosy part of me would take a second to snoop around, but I need to get out of this house and go home to shower.
I grab my heels from the floor and strap them back on before leaving. I don’t know how women can wear heels all day. Wearing them for a night out is one thing but wearing them for hours while at work sounds absolutely dreadful. I already know that walking home in these is going to be a pain in the ass, but I’d rather be in pain than have dirty feet.
I wish I was still drunk, that would make this walk more tolerable.
It also just occurred to me that I never found any ibuprofen.
I shut the door behind me quietly in hopes I didn’t wake any of his roommates. The house is gorgeous, definitely not the frat house I was imagining earlier. It’s a beautiful brownstone with modern touches in the kitchen and living room that I saw briefly on my way out.
This part of town is mainly college housing. Brownstones line the streets and I check my phone to see where exactly I am. Thank God it didn’t die in the middle of the night, or I’d be forced to go back inside and ask for directions.
Luckily his house isn’t a far walk from mine, so I start my journey, joining the others who are also going home at nine in the morning on a Sunday.
I arrive back at our condo and wave at our security guard as I head to the elevators. It might seem a little extreme to have a security guard for your building, but it was one of my parents’ requirements when buying this place. They wanted to make sure I lived in a safe environment, which is funny because home was far from that, with their stuck-up attitudes and high expectations.
I unlock the door and find Sydney and Maddie waiting patiently for me in our living room. I unclasp my heels and throw them onto the shoe rack by the door.
My parents might have paid for our condo, but we’ve made it our own with funky décor. We have a comfy red sectional in the middle of our living room that we thrifted and paired it with an oval-shaped, glass coffee table. We have a three-bedroom unit on the twelfth floor with floor-to-ceiling windows in every room. From our living room windows, we can see right into the heart of downtown.
My parents never wanted me to stay in a dorm, but at BCU they make you live on campus for your first year, and they couldn’t argue with the school. It was one of the main reasons I applied here. To get a sense of freedom and to get the hell away from my family.I could’ve gone as far as California, but there’s something about the East Coast that makes it hard to leave.
As soon as I became a sophomore my parents decided that I needed a place of my own. I was able to convince them to let my two friends stay with me as long as I took a minor in political science—just in case a life in journalism doesn’t work out for me. The jab about my major hurt a little, but not enough for me to decline my parents’ offer. It’s not a bad bargain if I get to live with my best friends basically for free.
I know that Sydney’s parents have a lot of money, and she could easily afford a place like this on her own, but it feels useless to ask for either of them to chip in when my parents have more than enough wealth to share. I wouldn’t take a penny from my friends, anyway, especially Maddie, who’s paying her own way through school.
“ Well, well, well, did somebody have a fun night? Or should I say, s omebodies, ” Sydney chimes in immediately.
I roll my eyes at her. Sydney is always the first one to call people out on their bullshit. I swear she has a superpower that allows her to pick up on everything. Honestly, sometimes she scares me. There is not one secret I’ve been able to keep from her.
“Actually, I didn’t. We got back to his place, and I passed out before I could even take my dress off,” I start to explain. “Looks like I’m stuck in a dry spell. Might as well pick up a new vibrator and just swear off men altogether.”
I’m a firm believer in self-gratification. But a toy can only do so much. Sometimes it’s nice to have an actual dick inside of you rather than silicone.
“You’re going to be back on Tinder later tonight, endlessly scrolling and asking our opinion on who’s hotter.”
I flip them off, leaving them in the living room while I head to my room to shower and change before we go to our favorite coffee shop for breakfast.
Since we became friends during freshman year, we made it a tradition to meet for breakfast every Sunday at a local coffee shop called Caio. They serve the best lattes and the cutest pastries. One time a barista made a cat out of the foam on my latte and to this day it’s still the prettiest drink I’ve ever had.
I open the door to my bedroom and realize I left it a mess. My closet door looks like it’s leaking clothes, with shirts and dresses hanging haphazardly off the hangers and different shoes scattered across my floor. I was running around getting ready for my failure of a date last night, and I guess I decided to leave the cleaning for today.
I peel my dress from last night off and toss it into my laundry basket. My attached bath is remodeled to the nines, something my parents said needed to be done before moving in. At first everything was pure white, from the marble floors to the tiling in the glass shower. But once I moved in, I painted the walls a deep shade of emerald green and swapped out the matte black features with gold ones. It’s much nicer now.
The best purchase I made was one of those rainfall showerheads. I read somewhere that the steam from eucalyptus releases an oil that promotes stress relief, so I made sure every bathroom in the house has some.
Most girls love to soak in a bubble bath for an hour, reading a book and lighting a candle, but that’s not me. When I need to relax, I turn down the bathroom light, turn on my “I need to cry” playlist, and sit on my shower floor for twenty minutes. Works like a charm every time.
The bathroom steams up quickly and I hop in to rinse off the smell of last night that clings to me. It would take me too long to wash my hair, and I’m craving a hazelnut latte. Hopefully that will help nurse me back to health and take away my nausea.
Fifteen minutes later and I am all showered, moisturized, and ready to go for breakfast.
I slip on my favorite pair of mom jeans and match it with a cream-colored sweater and my Converse. I’m too tired to fuss with hair and makeup, so instead I toss my hair up with a claw clip and quickly brush out my eyebrows. Thankfully glasses have their perks and hide most of my face, so if I’m not wearing makeup, it’s not as noticeable. And to be honest, I couldn’t care less about my appearance today. All I want is an espresso and to gossip with my friends.
On our walk over to the cafe, Maddie fills us in on some of her work drama. “So, I told the lady that we can’t return her paint if it’s over a year old and she yelled at me and said she was never shopping here again. Like, okay, lady, as if I give a fuck.”
Maddie is a force to be reckoned with. Not only is she a genius but she’s also hilarious. Once you get past her tough exterior, you see the small beads of sunshine that is Maddie. She is one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met.
By the time she finishes ranting about bad customers, which seems to be most of them, we’ve arrived at the cafe.
I walk up to the counter and order for the three of us while they go and grab us a seat near the windows—our preferred spot. While I wait in line, I take a moment to look around my favorite coffee shop.
Caio is situated on the corner of a less-busy street. It has two walls full of windows, which allow in the perfect amount of natural light. The wall across from the barista station has exposed brick and the others are painted a dusty terra-cotta color. The floors are dark hardwood with a few earth-toned area rugs around the tables and chairs. There’s a huge bookcase along the far wall that people can donate books to. I’ve always felt like it took some inspiration from the coffee shop in Friends.
“Order for Vanessa!”
I bring our drinks and pastries over to Sydney and Maddie, who are already chatting about each other’s plans for this upcoming week. I take a seat in the cushioned armchair next to the window and start eating my croissant when I look over at Sydney, who has a knowing smirk pulled across her face.
She pulls up a video on her phone from last night. “Do you know who you were dancing with last night?”
“Um, well, I know his name is Jake. And, uh…that’s about it.” I struggle to think of anything else I could remember about him after only meeting him last night. “Oh, and he has a comfy bed I wish I could’ve taken home with me.”
I take another bite of my croissant and I have decided that whoever thought of stuffing a croissant with spinach and cheese is a genius. I hope they’re a millionaire.
Sydney rolls her eyes at me and shoves her phone in my face. I watch myself on the screen grinding and dancing in ways my sober self never could. “Ness…Jake plays on the hockey team with my brother. He’s well known across campus, if you know what I mean. Big red flag.”
She tucks her phone back into her bag. That doesn’t shock me at all. I mean, it makes sense that he’s an athlete. That would explain why he’s in such good shape.
It’s been months since I’ve hooked up with someone, and of course I fumbled that .Just remembering his abs from this morning has me all hot and bothered. And if I’m getting all hot and bothered over Jake, then I’m sure there are a ton of girls out there willing to fuck him. Especially at BCU.
Hockey is probably the most popular sport at our university and we’re one of the top schools in our division. Last year we almost won the championship but lost to Boston College in overtime. No matter what social circle you run in, you always know the score of last night’s game. I’m surprised I didn’t notice who he was before Sydney mentioned it. I thought he looked familiar last night.
“Who cares if he’s a player? In case you forgot, I sleep around too.” I know she’s not trying to directly insult me, but if she’s insinuating that Jake is a slut, well then, I guess so am I.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She sighs and puts her hand on my knee. “Listen, if you want to roll around in the sac with him, I won’t stop you. I just think that it’s time to stop casually sleeping around and maybe think about a long-term relationship for once? There’s this cute guy in my accounting class I could set you up with.”
I know Sydney has my best interests at heart. All she wants for me is to be in a loving committed relationship, but it’s hard for me to get attached to someone like that again.She loves love, who can blame her?
The last time I had a boyfriend was in my senior year of high school. His name was Matt, and we had been dating for about three years until I walked in on him fucking my so-called best friend at the time.
Oh, and how did I find out? I threw him a birthday party at my house and found him drilling into Rachel in my bed. At least he got birthday sex from someone, because after that he was getting absolutely nothing from me.
So yeah, I guess the trauma stuck with me and now I have a fear of commitment.
Oh well.
This is why I only do hookups. They’re easy and stress-free.
“Well, on another note, I heard he’s packing. Care to confirm the rumor?” Maddie rests her chin on her wrist, leaning in closer to me. She always knows how to lighten the mood.
“We didn’t hook up and I don’t plan on relieving last night any time soon. The puck bunnies can have him.” I sip on what’s left of my latte and put Jake out of my mind.
Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t hook up with him last night