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They’re tight-knit, these guys. A family of their own making. It gives me hope that maybe someday I can build a family of my own like this one. Broaden the circle of people I can trust, outside of Addy and the Masons.
What about Jude?The thought weeds through me, taking root.
My lungs stretch to fill with my sharp inhale at the idea, but there’s not enough space in my chest to accommodate my breaths. Not when my heart has started racing, pounding, filling my ribcage with its accelerated beats.
Jude.
Jude, Jude, Jude—
Addy squeals beside me, tearing me from the potential spiral of my thoughts. “This is going to be so much freaking fun!” she shouts and spins on the balls of her feet, dancing along to whatever song is playing inside her head.
“Don’t be too excited now,” Boss drawls, swathing her in his hold, his arms sliding around her torso from behind and stilling her movements. “Remember who keeps you warm at night, baby.”
Her smile stretches wide, and the emotion reaches her eyes. She bites down on her bottom lip, folding her arms over his until they’re completely entwined. “Oh, I remember,” she purrs, and it’s my cue to find something else—anything else—to focus on.
I turn in the opposite direction. Just in time to spot Jude walking down the alleyway.
My breath hitches in my throat, before releasing with an embarrassingwhoosh.No one should have the right to be that attractive. No one. Black hoodie; fitted, dark jeans; white tee; ass-kicking boots; and those beautiful tattoos, peeking out from beneath his clothing wherever his skin meets the air. On his wrists, his hands, his fingers, his neck.
And then there’s those piercing gray eyes.
They dig straight into me, even from yards and yards away.
And it hits me, just how screwed I am. The way my attraction to him, my connection to him, has flourished beyond my control. An errant weed, spreading like wildflowers.
I beg my heart to calm as he makes his way toward me. Making a beeline for me. An easy smile resting on his lips. Dimples dipping into his cheeks. And so of course, my heart doesn’t obey at all. It gallops away, racing through my limbs and sprinting through my veins.
An inked arm slides around me, a face dipping into my neck.
“Hey, Little D,” Jude whispers, and it sends a heated shiver up my spine.
“Hey, Brooklyn,” I greet back, and even though it’s at least eighty-something degrees outside, I can feel how flushed my cheeks are, adding to all the warmth flooding through me.
I shift in his hold and meet his stare.
And it’s now that it also hits me, for the millionth time in the last few weeks, that I already sort of knew him. Knewofhim, anyway.
SebCarter33.
I haven’t been able to reconcile it. The fact that Jude—this moody, broody, surprisingly amazing but kind of an asshole guy—is the same one I’ve watched playNevernightonline. The same voice I’ve listened to many nights, soothing the ache of the world as it lulled me to sleep.
It’s no wonder his accent felt so familiar.
I could never tell him so, but it’s true.
And then to be playingwithhim… I could also never tell him what a dream it’s been, to play with someone I’ve admired online for so long. The infamous, anonymous, SebCarter33.
At some point, Iwilltell him; I just don’t know when that point will be. Maybe when I’m fourteen hundred miles away, tucked safely away in my dorm room.Yeah, that feels like a solid plan to me.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” Addy squeals, reaching into her purse to pull out her famous silver flask, effectively redirecting my thoughts. “It’s the good stuff this time.” She waggles her brows. “McCallan, from Dad’s deep stash. 25 years—whatever that means.”
Boss’s laughter eclipses her own. “Shit, baby. You better hope that one goes unnoticed. That’s some pricey stuff right there.”
Her face brightens. “Isn’t that the point, sexy? Besides, I don’t think he’ll notice. There were a handful of others just like itbehind this one. Daddy gets a ton of bottles as gifts from his players and their parents at the end of every season, so he can’t keep up.”
He whistles on his exhale, his bright eyes flaring wide. “Well, you gonna share some of the good stuff or what, babydoll?”
She smiles in return, and with that, she passes it down the line of us, starting the scotch train off with me. I shake my head and pass it to the next guy. Jude refuses, too, but that doesn’t come as a surprise. I haven’t seen him drink even a drop of alcohol in all the times we’ve been out together.