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“You know she’s vulnerable after the shit that went down with Reynolds and McMichael.” My hands tighten around the steering wheel at their names. They both deserve an ass kicking for what they did to her. Reese continues, “She acts like everything is fine, but Twyler noticed she’s going out a lot less. Like she’s avoiding it or maybe scared.”

No more epic fuck-ups.

“Do you blame her?” I ask.

“No.” He sighs. “Twy’s still hoping she decides to report it, but regardless, she doesn’t need anyone sniffing around her while she’s figuring things out.”

As we talk about them, I pass the Teal House. The soft blue light flickers inside and a small sedan sits in the driveway, indicating the girls made it back home. I don’t look at the bush I poisoned on the way to practice the other day.

“I’m not sniffing around her. We happen to be the best friends of two people that are dating. We’re going to get tossed together and you need to chill out.” The tense expression on his face doesn’t ease so I add, “She’s not my type anyway.”

“Bullshit.” He laughs. “She’s hot, fun to be around, and loves a cocky athlete. She’sexactlyyour type.”

“Yeah,” I say, pulling into the driveway of the Manor. “Except for the fact that I agree with you. She’s vulnerable and I’m not looking for that right now. I need to get off probation, focus on hockey, and figure out what I’m going to do after graduation. Would I fuck her?”Hell yes. “Sure. Am I going to? That’s not something you need to worry about.”

Because even if he’s right, and she is my type, Nadia has made it infinitely clear she wants nothing to do with me.

Two hours later,after refueling on the food Jefferson’s mom had sent to the house, and kicking Reid’s ass, twice, gaming, the post-game energy finally wanes enough to head to bed. It’s hard to settle down after going hard for two hours on the ice. Our bodies may be tired, but that’s when the adrenaline kicks in. On the weekends, we’ll blow off steam at one of the parties on Greek row, or host one of our own, but on weeknights, we take it easier. Our schedule is rough, we’ve got two more games this week before Thanksgiving break, then we’ll get a couple of days off before games resume.

Lying on my bed, I torture myself by scrolling through Nadia’s photos on ChattySnap. I hate to admit it, but CJ knew what he was doing when he came up with the LonelyFans scheme. Although she’s gorgeous, with big brown eyes and plump lips, he hadn’t shown her face while he was secretly recording her. No need to. Nadia’s a sexpot. Curvy hips and big tits. She flaunts it on her own account, taking selfies with the camera angled straight down her cleavage, while wearing tiny shorts that show a smidge of ass cheek, just enough to make youwant to sink your teeth in. I scroll back, past the newer photos of her up at Wittmore, down to the ones from high school where her skin is a warm brown and she’s wearing even less clothing on the beaches in Florida. My cock thickens when I pause on one of her in a white string bikini, sunkissed and eye-fucking the camera.

Pushing my hand down the front of my shorts, I’m prepared to take the low road, when I hear the creak of the top stair and a soft, feminine giggle. It could be anyone. Reid is on-again-off-again with his girl, Darla, and it’s entirely possible he sweet-talked her into coming over. Jefferson and I usually slip out to sorority row, and me hanging back won’t keep him from going. He’s been making his way down the alphabet and currently is fucking around in the P’s.

But when I hear the soft snick of the bedroom door across from mine, I know exactly who’s sneaking around; Reese and Twyler.

Now I just feel like a pervert, pulling my hand out of my shorts, and tossing the phone across the bed.

That’ll be the last we hear from them, even though I know they’ll be fucking like rabbits in a few minutes. Twyler is quiet, the opposite of his ex, Shanna, who’s the type to let her presence be known. My boy’s always been the monogamous type. He dated the same girl all through high school and most of college. Sure, he had a post break up wild streak, where he made his way through his share of puck bunnies, but all that stopped when he noticed Twyler. I’m pretty sure their sex is vanilla as hell.

Me? I’m definitely more of an exhibitionist. The thrill of getting caught is part of the fun, but all I can think right now is that sex is still sex, and those two are about to have more of it than I am.

My phone buzzes and I lean across the bed, picking it up.

Chantelle: You out celebrating after the game?

Huh. Figured my early morning brush off would have waned her interest. I type out a reply.

Me: Eh, not tonight. We’re taking it easy.

Chantelle: I could come over, pick things up where we left it off.

It’s tempting, but before I can respond, a close up photo of a pair of lace covered tits fills my screen. At the top I see the edge of that gold necklace.

Jesus. This girl is definitely not about the chase.

Even so, I’m not one to say no to a willing partner, and I’m about to give her the go ahead when the next text comes through, displaying across those pretty tits.

Shelby: Did you get dad’s text? You need to respond.

My hard-on instantly deflates and I quickly swipe the image away. I can ignore my dad, but my sister? I try not to mess around.

Me: Had a game. I’ll reply now.

The phone rings before I can open another text box.

“Axel,” my dad says, my name pronounced with a sharp, Texan twang. “You’re still up.”

“Hey, Dad, sorry. We had a late game. Just got home a little while ago.” I slide my legs over the side of the bed, needing to move. “Did you catch it?”