Page 66

“You can do better than that.”
“You’re just loving this, aren’t you?”
I ricochet the puck off the side of the table, and it flies into the goal.
“Dammit,” he says as I throw my hands in the air.
“Hell yeah!” I shout, a swift adrenaline kick pulsing through me at my narrow 7–6 table hockey victory. I wasn’t expecting this for date night, but the arcade was a welcome surprise.
“So close,” Dax says.
“Yeah, you’re lucky I’m having a hard time concentrating.”
How can I, after that conversation with Ty?
He wants to reserve my ass. Wants it all to himself, like it’s become his obsession. And his obsession is becoming my obsession.
I want to know what it’d feel like to have Ty guiding me through the experience, easing inside me, this time with his cock instead of his fingers.
I love how possessive he was of it, how he wanted to be clear it’s his, though I wouldn’t have done anything with Daxanyway.
“Why are you having a hard time concentrating?” Dax asks.
Fuck. Way to call me out, bro.
I can’t tell him I’ve been thinking about Ty fucking me for most of the time we’ve been on our date. Or that before he came over to meet me at Alpha Theta Mu, I was checking out subreddits about anal.
“Just…stuff. What do you want to play next?” I ask, trying to get him off the scent.
“I don’t know. Trying to think of things you can beat me in so that we don’t wind up with another hog in the house.”
I laugh. “Uh-uh. I’m never a sore loser. Besides, the hog is sooo last year. Now come on, don’t go easy on me. A victory isn’t a victory unless you give me your ass.”
He studies me, his face twisting up as he considers his options. “Okay, then. I know what I can kick your ass at.”
“Try me.”
We head over to the Skee-Ball machines, competing to see who can get the highest score. Dax is laid-back, effortlessly sinking his into the 100 corner pockets. I’m more determined throughout the game. Same end result—the score is still tight—but definitely different attitudes to get us there.
As I sink another ball into the 100 pocket, I can’t help thinking about how so many of these games have something to do with getting something in a hole, which just keeps my mind going back to Ty’s words…thinking about his thick dick.
I miss my pocket, and Dax wins this round.
“Dammit,” I say. “You got me, frathole.”
“Ooh, even when you try to sound playful, you sound annoyed as fuck when you lose. No wonder you and Ty are always at each other’s throats. I’m probably betraying somekind of Sigma Alpha oath by telling you this, but Ty got so worked up last year every time Alpha Theta Mu did better at TaskFrat.”
Am I a monster for how good it feels knowing how much it bothered him? Or is it exciting knowing he was thinking about me even back then?
“What about this year?” I ask. “We won the last challenge.”
“He didn’t seem as bothered. Maybe because it’s early enough in the year, so he knows we have plenty of time to kick your asses. And as a Sigma Alpha, I must tell you, we’redefinitelygonna kick your asses. Although…I probably shouldn’t say even that much now. Ty was all in my face, like I was gonna come here and haze you tonight.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. I know we go out of our way to give you guys hell, but I think he respects you because you’re a worthy adversary.”
I’m not surprised to hear it, but I don’t want to give away anything about my new feelings about Ty, so I just say, “Well, if you’re recording to get me to say something nice about the guy, I think he’s an asshole who needs to accept that Alpha Theta Mu is gonna kick your asses this year.” I say all that loudly, leaning close like he’s wearing a wire, and Dax chuckles.