Chapter 3
Holland
The sounds of metal on metal, the grunts that fill the large space, and the blasting music in my ears aren’t enough to drown out my racing thoughts. My arms are sore, and my legs are on fire as I finish my last set.
Mason moves out from spotting me, running his hand through his hair.
Grabbing my water bottle off the ground, I chug a good amount of water before setting it back down and wiping my face off with a towel.
I’ve been pushing myself a lot harder recently since I’ve come back from my injury. I’ve been out of commission for six weeks now. Since our rugby season already started, that means I’ve missed valuable time on the pitch.
I fucked my knee up pretty bad at practice, and I’ve been recovering ever since. It’s been absolute hell not being able to play with the guys. Having to sit on the sidelines and watch my team play without me.
So, when my physical therapist and my doctor told me I could ease back into my gym routine and back into practice, I didn’t even hesitate.
I’ve been sitting on my ass for too long now, and I was beginning to go stir crazy.
This season’s already weird as hell without Ryker. Ryker was our fly half, and a damn good one at that. Now that job was given to Ryan Hirshnick. He’s not bad, but he’s nothing compared to Ryker. Our buddy Patrick was our captain. When he left, that position was handed down to me.
Since my best friend graduated, it’s been kind of weird to be here without him. Of course, I still have my cousin Mason, and Ryker’s brother Logan. But Logan’s nothing like Ryker.
In fact, for a while, Ryker and Logan didn’t really get along. They didn’t totally dislike one another, but they weren’t like normal brothers.
With their dad being a total dick and turning out to be a criminal, they’ve grown a lot closer.
Last semester ended pretty fucking weird. Ryker, Pat, Mason, and I all found out our fathers were doing some illegal shit, and we shut that shit down real quick.
My father and uncle, Mason’s dad, were part of a big crime circle in New York. There was a lot of illegal activity involving money laundering, drugs, and prostitution going on behind the guise of their night club business.
They owned six night clubs in the city. Each one was searched thoroughly for anything that could be illegal, and when they were cleared, Mason and I took over.
Being seniors in college still makes it kind of difficult to run six different night clubs, especially since we’re in Connecticut. We hired the best of the best people to run the clubs while we’re away at school.
It’s been working so far. We haven’t had any problems, and we’ve made a lot of changes to the clubs, so they have no remnants of our fathers.
All I know is that I have to crack down this semester and at least try to pass my classes so I can graduate and start my life away from Ellington University.
The university itself is great. It’s old and the architecture is crazy. The professors are some of the best of the best, and most of the students come from wealth, fame, and legacy.
The guys and I are all legacies. Our fathers went to Ellington back in their day, and they were part of the Ellington Elite, the big men on campus.
Being part of the Elite was a privilege, or so they say. Professors let you get away with shit other students would probably get shit for. Kids on campus either worship the ground you walk on or run the other direction in fear.
You can’t be an Elite unless your father, grandfather, or great grandfather was a member, making this ‘club’ really exclusive.
To me, it didn’t make much sense. We’re basically just a glorified fraternity. I wouldn’t even say that we do anything important. We just have a shit ton of money and respect. I guess I can’t really complain about that, can I?
My head is still reeling after last night with Danny fucking Larson fucking with my sister. Ellie may be my twin sister, but I’ve always felt like I had to be the protective brother. Everyone tends to think I’m older than her because of that.
I honestly can’t believe Larson would try something with MY sister on MY turf. The guy must be a special kind of stupid.
And Barkley. Finding Lainey shoved up against a wall by some fuckwat who didn’t even look like he knew what he was doing. That shit made my blood boil.
I’m not a fucking idiot. I know Lainey gets around. That’s her MO. Since high school, she’s been pretty open about her sexuality. Honestly, good for her. I like that she doesn’t take shit from anyone and doesn’t care what anyone thinks about her.
It makes her that much more interesting. Lainey Barkley has been in my life since we were eight, and one thing I’ve always loved to do is get her riled up.
I don’t know why, but knowing I can make her so angry, so annoyed, it makes me feel… powerful. Like I have some sort of hold over her like she has a hold over me.
Again, I’m not an idiot, and I’m certainly not blind. Lainey Barkley is hot as sin. Long tan legs, a waist that’s to die for, an ass like no other, and dark curly hair that makes her greyish eyes stick out.
She’s every guy’s wet dream. It’s no wonder she has guys all over her at all times. It’s been like that since we were teenagers. It’s always bothered me, watching guys throw themselves at her.
I was never sure if it was because I was jealous or because I saw her as a sister. But when my dick started to get hard at the thought of her, and I would jerk off to her face in my head, I knew it was the former.
Obviously, that piece of information I’ve kept to myself. Not even my boys know about it. Ellie especially doesn’t know how often I fantasize about her friend sucking my dick.
Lainey acts like she wants nothing to do with me. She acts like I’m nothing but an inconvenience, a thorn in her side, but I know she feels something too. You can feel the tension like a fucking rubber band about to snap.
For some reason though, she doesn’t want to act on her desire. I guess I could say it’s because of Ellie being her best friend. Or maybe I’ve completely misread the signals. Maybe Lainey Barkley hates my guts and actually despises my existence.
If that’s the case, she’s shit out of luck because I’m not going anywhere.
“Yo, Holli. What’s going on? Are we done or what?”
Mason asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. Fuck. I shake my head, regaining my composure.
“Yeah, sorry. Let’s get out of here.”