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Drake

My dick has a life of its own. The girl I met in the hallway after class hasn’t stopped begging me for another pic, so who am I to deny her? She’s in my cell phone contacts as Becky Big Tits. At least, I think her name is Becky. I’m almost positive it starts with a B.

“Give me a sec,” I tell Tucker Kane, one of my closest friends and teammates. “I have to send this chick another pic.”

He shoots me a nasty look and then shakes his head, laughing. “Fucking weirdo,” he mutters under his breath.

Leaving Tucker outside, I duck into the bathroom long enough to whip out my dick and snap a picture to send to Becky.

By now, I imagine most girls on campus have probably already seen my favorite body part.

I’m known for it. During freshman year, I sent a picture to one girl, and since then, I’ve gotten tons of random texts from girls.

They ask for it.

As I step into the hallway, Becky sends me a text message full of hearts, eggplant emojis, and a smiley face with a tongue hanging out. She’s not even a challenge.

How boring? Later, Becky.

My dad always told me a girl who doesn’t make you chase her isn’t worth your time. I hate to admit he’s right, but this girl has already lost my attention. Meeting a girl who’s not begging for it would be nice.

Everyone on campus thinks they know the real Drake Donovan—even my friends and teammates.

They couldn’t be more wrong about me. And if anyone ever discovered my secret, it would destroy the fake reputation I created.

So, I have to maintain these bullshit relationships with easy girls.

It’s easier than admitting to my friends that I’ve lied to them for years.

I slip my cell phone back into my pocket and sigh.

“I’m surprised there’s anyone left at Strick U who hasn’t seen your dick,” Tucker says smugly.

I shrug. “New year, new girls.”

He snorts. “Eventually, that’s going to catch up with you. Wait until you go pro and send one to the wrong puck bunny. Look what happened to Preston’s dad when he played for the Caps.”

Well, over twenty-five years ago, Alex Parker got into a ton of trouble for having sex with a puck bunny, who turned out to be the granddaughter of the team owner.

Oops. And it didn’t help that the hotel caught the whole thing on camera.

That’s how Preston’s dad played for the Philadelphia Flyers alongside my dad.

Now, he’s the head coach of the team. He also played with Tucker’s dad, now the general manager.

What happened to my Uncle Alex back then could have killed his career. So, I guess I better be more careful with eager girls who want a piece of me. Even though I shouldn’t do it, I do it anyway.

“It’s not like I’m settling down soon,” I shoot back. “Until then…”

“No point,” Tucker says, holding open the door to the lecture hall for me. “Too many girls to choose from.”

Tucker practically lives over at the Delta Sigma Phi chapter house. He could be a fraternity member with how much he parties with them.

When we step outside, the heat smacks me in the face. It’s warm for October, much hotter than previous years. Our final hockey season with the Strickland Senators just started, though it doesn’t seem like hockey season outside.

We walk toward the Student Activity Center, also known as the SAC, by everyone on campus.

Within minutes, we’re climbing the stairs to the second floor.

My stomach growls from the overwhelming scent of fried foods, and a slight pain digs into my side.

When was the last time I ate? This morning after practice, I guess.

I was so busy with hockey, classes, and then Becky that I didn’t even think about it.

Tucker walks in front of me to grab each of us a tray and hands one to me.

On our way to the buffet line, I move out of the way of a man pushing a metal cart and bump into someone.

The tray slips from my hand. I reach out to catch it, but it hits the tiled floor, falling in front of the girl I knocked over.

She peeks up at me, her long, dark hair framing her soft features.

I stare at her for far too long, stunned by the sight of Taylor Bradshaw on the floor.

She’s gorgeous, with nothing more than a pink gloss on her pouty lips.

She’s the one girl I’ve always noticed on campus.

Sometimes, I catch her looking at me, but not for long before she speeds away as if she thinks she’s too good for me.

“Drake,” another girl says from behind me.

I angle my body to glance at the girl I just sent a dick pic to, surprised to see her here. Her lips part for me, a tiny smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

Fucking hell.

“I was just thinking about you…” Becky extends her hand and continues, “… and here you are… and with Taylor, of all people.” Her eyes glaze over at the sight of Taylor on the floor.

“How weird is that?” Her voice reaches a higher octave the longer she speaks, and I’m now reminded why I prefer to text her.

I look down at Taylor, about to extend my hand, when she snarls at me. Yes, fucking snarls like a dog about to rip my arm off. Okay…

With one woman on each side of me, I try to get rid of the one I don’t like first.

“Look, Becky,” I say before she interrupts me.

“Becky,” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “My name is Jackie.”

At least I was right about the big tits part.

I give her one of my boyish smiles, which usually gets me out of trouble with women.

It always worked with my mom and has gotten me far over the years.

This time, it doesn’t work. Becky—apparently Jackie—blows out a puff of air, her blonde hair falling before her eyes.

When I don’t respond to her outburst, she storms off, leaving me alone with Taylor, now standing at my right side.

“Well, if it isn’t the Grand Master of Dick Pics,” Taylor says, jokingly bowing to me with her hand outstretched.

I’ve always liked that mouth of hers. She’s so damn sassy and the hardest girl on campus to score. Taylor’s a real challenge, one I would gladly accept.

I can’t help but laugh.

“It’s customary when you knock a girl on her ass to help her up,” she says condescendingly. “Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” She covers her mouth and laughs. “Oh, right? I already know the answer. No. Because what kind of person texts random girls pictures of their junk?”

“Were you with Becky? Ugh… I mean, Jackie.”

Fucking jackass.

“Yeah, I was with her when you sent those pics. She’s on my team, you idiot.” She raises her hand to give me a thumbs up. “Real classy, Drake.”

I’ve had a massive boner for Taylor since I saw her play basketball in my sophomore year, and now our first encounter is… fucked-up. This is not what I had in mind. When I finally talked to Taylor, I hoped it would be under different terms and with her being much less hostile.

She looks hot in her navy-and-white Strickland Senators basketball uniform with matching sneakers.

Tall and toned, her body has curves that make it hard for me to focus.

Most girls fit under my arm, but not Taylor.

She’s around six feet tall, solid, and built to perfection.

At my height, it’s hard to find women I can kiss without breaking my neck.

“You’re just mad I haven’t sent one to you.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her and remove my phone from my pocket to gauge her reaction. “We can fix that right now.”

“Wow, are you serious?” She pushes her hands to her hips, glaring at me. “Like I would ever give you my number, you pig.” She practically growls the words at me. “You don’t have a chance with me, buddy.” She finishes by poking me in the chest with her finger.

Way to go, Drake.

Before I can get in another word, she disappears into a sea of people swarming into the cafeteria, leaving me wondering what happened.

What was I thinking?

That shit will never work on her.

By the end of the semester, Taylor Bradshaw will be mine.