Page 87
Story: Guarded By the Goalie
“On campus. The tutoring room.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Room 110?”
I snort. “Yep.”
“That son of a—” She lunges forward, taking the remaining stairs two at a time. “That’s where I gave him a blow job for the first time, too!”
I hold back a laugh, and race after her, but she’s already flung open the door to Reese’s bedroom. Inside, he sits up on the bed, still shirtless but wearing shorts. His expression turns wary when he sees his girlfriend’s face.
“Is this a thing you guys do?” she blurts, before he can speak. “Some kind of bet?”
“Woah, Sunshine,” he looks over her head at me and I shrug. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Room 110!”
Reese grimaces, walks over, and as he shuts the door in my face I hear him say, “Twy, calm down.”
Axel’s bedroom door opens and he walks over, rubbing his head. His hair sticks up all over and he wraps his arms around me. “What’s she losing her mind about?”
“Room 110. Apparently, we’re not the only ones that hooked up in there.” I lean into his warm body. “Did you know that?”
“Honestly, no.” He scratches my back. “You’re the first girl I’ve met up with there, and I can promise you that you’ll definitely be the last.”
“Why’s that?”
“I want that memory seared in my mind forever.” He pushes the hood aside on his sweatshirt and licks a spot on my shoulder. “Completely untainted by anything or anyone else.”
This man.
Voices rise behind Reese’s door. “Should we go tell them?” I ask. “Let them know it seems like an unfortunate coincidence?”
“Eh, a fight is good for those two.” He nudges me back into his room. “The make up sex will be worth it.”
If there’sa measure to test if my Blacklisting still stands, it’s my communications class. The same cloak of silence exists between me and the varsity athletes Brent told to ice me out. A few weeks ago their approval had seemed so important. Their rejection hadfelt so painful. Now, I’m embarrassed I ever wanted validation from these guys.
It feels like a clear indicator that I’ve left that toxic part of my life behind.
Brent can have me ostracized all he wants. But what I’ve come to realize is that I don’t need these guys or acceptance by any exclusive group on campus. I’ve got an amazing best friend, and the sexiest, most supportive boyfriend.
I’m good. Really good.
“In conclusion,” Austin says from the front of the class. Rocky, his partner, stands next to him. “That’s why we think student athletes should receive a salary from the University, like any other employee.”
Rocky nods, throwing up a fist in support.
“Thank you,” our professor says. “That was a very persuasive presentation.”
I blink, wondering how this educator manages to live with supporting such bullshit. The past five minutes were painful to witness. Rocky ad-libbed his part, and Austin didn’t even make the effort to remove his headphones. By the smug grins on their face, it’s clear that they think they hit this one out of the ballpark, and I’m sure they’ll be getting another ‘A’ to add to their transcript.
Austin has to pass me on the way back to his seat, and his massive thigh slams into the side of my desk. The action is jarring–my laptop jolting.
“My bad,” he says with a smirk.
I open my mouth to say something back but shut it. He’s not worth it.
Although, that doesn’t keep the person next to me from muttering, “Asshole,” under his breath.
I’m certain I’m the only one that can hear Eric’s insult, and I give him a grateful smile as he adjusts my laptop back to the middle of my desk.
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