Page 44

Crew

I was holding out as long as possible for Lane’s sake.

We were at a club called Drink! and apparently, I was stronger than I thought, because even with the amount of girls in this building right now, I’d managed not to stare too long or wander off and introduce myself to any.

“You look like you’re in pain,” Lane said.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, drowning the lie with the remainder of my beer. “Are you having fun?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve spent the past twenty minutes watching you look like you’re in pain.”

We were standing at a table upstairs that overlooked the dance floor, and every few minutes, I’d been getting glimpses of the curvature of girl’s asses swaying.

I guess I hadn’t realized it’d been causing me to look like I was in pain for the last twenty minutes.

The music had been pretty mellow, consisting of throwbacks like “Party in the U.S.A” and some old Kesha songs.

But now “No Hands” by Waka Flocka Flame was blaring, and I swore every girl dropped their ass to the floor at once like a group of synchronized swimmers in a pool.

Ah, geez. Ripping my eyes away, I rubbed the back of my head.

I wasn’t usually this... I wasn’t even sure how to describe it. Sexually frustrated? Was that what I was?

I was well aware that I was acting like a high-school-aged, horny virgin, and I was pretty sure I hated it just as much as Lane did. If not, I hated it more.

Lane fucking amazed me. The fact that his eyes hadn’t wandered all night seemed like some weird hidden talent. I didn’t know anyone that had the same self-discipline as him, and not going to lie, I was a bit jealous of it.

“I need another beer,” I said, tipping my empty glass side to side.

“Same,” he agreed. “To the bar, we go.”

Relief encompassed me as we stepped away from the railing of the second floor, and when we got our beers, I made sure to pick a new table that wasn’t anywhere close to the old one.

A trio of girls walked by, and if it weren’t for one with the same tan skin and similar features as Kota, I probably wouldn’t have been hyper focused on them.

Every muscle in my body was tensing, getting more and more frustrated with myself.

Lightly and out of habit, I licked my lips, and I could’ve sworn that for a second, I could taste Kota’s mouth on mine. Her sticky, glossy lips that tasted like cherry.

“Let’s play a game,” Lane blurted out.

Yes, fucking please.

I had no idea what game he was referring to, but anything to get my mind out of the gutter it was currently in was a good idea.

“What kind of game?”

He tipped his drink towards me. “Go around and see how many numbers you can get.”

I took another glance around as if I hadn’t done so thirty times prior tonight. “Is this a competition? Are we gonna see who can get more?”

Because if that was the case, I was more than intrigued. This was the type of shit I’d do with Cody or TJ. Lane had never been as promiscuous as the rest of us, and the craziest part was, if he had been, he’d probably blow all of us out of the water.

I didn’t want to hype him up too hard since I wasn’t some girl with a crush on him, but Lane was a handsome dude. Not only that, but he was an actual gentleman to women and had a great personality. With a future NHL contract floating around. What more could you ask for?

Lane let out a sarcastic laugh. “Definitely not.”

“Why?” I threw at him.

“I’m not as smooth as you.”

Bullshit.

“You underestimate yourself. You’d definitely give me a run for my money.”

Firmly, he shook his head, lips tight. “We’ll change the game.”

“To?”

Lane’s chin lifted, spine straightening in that captain-like stance he always gave. “I get to pick out a girl for you.”

My eyes met his with curiosity. There was something about the idea of all this that was so intriguing. I wanted to see Lane be a little wild for once.

“Do I get to do the same?” I asked.

He let out another laugh like I was insane. “No.”

“Then no.”

His chin dropped, head tipping as his voice lowered an octave as if he was my parent about to tell me some devasting news like my pet died or something.

“I’m not bringing a girl home tonight, Crew,” he said.

I sighed, shaking my head. “You continuously disappoint me.”

“I’m just not really into hookups,” he shrugged. “You know that.”

“Yeah, I do know that,” I sternly agreed. “What I don’t know is why .”

“I could ask the same thing about you.” He rested his elbows on the table, casually leaning forward while his hand had a death grip on his drink. “Why do you like hookups?”

I scoffed, forcing my line of sight to stay on Lane and only Lane. “Keeps things interesting,” I said. When my response didn’t seem to satisfy him and he only raised a brow at me, I added, “And no strings attached.”

Did a string just include a relationship, or did it also include the mental chaos I was currently having?

Whether my response was enough this time or not, Lane didn’t seem to care. He ignored everything I’d said, dropping his empty hand on the table. “Do you wanna play the game or not?”

Even though he couldn’t hear it over the music, I let out a light groan. “Alright, sure, whatever.”

Lane took a small step back as his eyes zipped around the vicinity, taking in every girl within a twenty-foot radius, which might not have seemed like a lot, but with how packed this place was tonight, the opportunities were sort of endless.

Meanwhile, I waited rather patiently, hoping Lane had good taste for me tonight.

“Her,” he declared, his beer raising discreetly in the direction of a small group of girls. I stared at the group, unsure of which one he was referring to. Not all of them were facing me, but from the back, they didn’t seem bad. “The one in the black top, blue jeans.”

That one was facing me.

My head lulled, circling all the way back to Lane. “You would pick out the red head.”

The lightest trace of his jaw flexing caught my eye as he rolled his. “This isn’t about Bridget.” “Sure. Keep tellin’ yourself that,” I muttered as I headed towards my target.

She was watching me as I approached, and the closer I got, the more confused she seemed to get, looking around at her friends like a lost puppy.

All of them were seemingly occupied though, either with each other or with guys of their own. I stopped shy of a few feet from her, keeping a safe distance. She looked like a deer in headlights as she stared at me, and I took the moment to get a good look at her.

She was definitely pretty, with long red hair that went down to her mid-back. Although with the harsh lighting, I wasn’t sure if it was her natural hair color or not. Strutting around in a small black top and blue jeans, I wouldn’t have admitted it aloud, but Lane didn’t do me wrong with this pick.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hi.”

I held out a hand. “I’m Crew.”

“Rachelle,” she said, full of distrust as she glared at my hand, slowly bringing hers up for a shake.

“How’s your night, Rachelle?”

“Good... How’s yours?”

“Not too bad,” I said, giving the most delicate smirk known to man.

She gave an awkward nod.

Usually, I knew what to say based on a girl’s vibe, but this one seemed so shy and closed off that it was hard to get any kind of read on her. I wasn’t sure what approach to take, and I especially wasn’t sure how I was going to get her to go from nervous to shaking my hand to willing to give me her number or anything beyond that.

I didn’t usually go for shy girls. Now that I thought about it, I seemingly only went for girls who were a little more extroverted like me. I probably wouldn’t have picked Rachelle out myself had the circumstances been different, but here I was, which meant I needed to see it through.

“Are you from around here?” I asked.

“Kingston,” she said, expecting me to know where that was.

I lifted a brow lightly. “Is that... around here?”

She gave a light chuckle. “You’re not from here, are you?”

I shook my head. “I play hockey in Minnesota.”

Now, she was lifting a brow, a light smirk trudging across her lips. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

This, I could go along with.

“I mean,” I grinned, “hopefully.”

I could see the large intake of breath she took to respond. Too bad I’d never know what she was about to say.

“Rachelle!” one of her friends shouted. “We’re going back now!” With a tug, she was whisked away, not bothering to look back once.

Great.

I stood there in my defeat for a minute, not only disappointed but also embarrassed knowing that Lane was probably watching. And probably laughing.

“Rejected?” a light voice called.

I twisted, mouth parting at the sight of the Kota look-alike. The strobe lights from the dance floor were lighting up her face every ten or so seconds, and each time it did, the more and more I envisioned it being Kota standing in front of me.

There were a lot of differences though. Like the curve of their lips. Kota’s were much more defined, having a perfect cupid’s bow sitting atop her upper lip. Whereas this girl had much thinner, straighter lips.

Kota carried herself with more of a don’t fucking mess with me, badass attitude. This girl seemed confident but wouldn’t have the same ability to rip someone’s heart out with her hands.

There were other small differences, but I was currently overwhelmed with the similarities.

“Not quite,” I responded.

“Oh really?”

“I promise.”

With a quick look-over, she responded, “You sound quite confident.”

It was kind of blowing my mind that my excitement had skyrocketed by talking to someone who looked like the girl I hated with the heat of a million and one suns.

I gave a light shrug. “Confidence is key,” I said jokingly.

Her voice spilled out musically like a sweet, soft lullaby. Another stark difference to Kota.

“If confidence is key,” she grinned benevolently, “would it be overly confident of me if I asked what you were doing after this?”

There was no way to smother the massive grin overcoming my face. “Not at all.”

***

“You know,” Lane whispered beside me, “she kinda looks like—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off.

Isla, the Kota look-alike, trailed a few steps behind us up to the Airbnb.

When she took initiative earlier and asked to spend the night together, I was fucking astounded. This girl had bigger balls on her than I originally thought. Most girls waited for me to be the one to ask, so her asking made her even more attractive to me.

Her friends didn’t seem to have a problem with her leaving early. They drilled Lane and I pretty hard before letting her leave with us, but we promised we’d get her an Uber whenever she wanted to leave, and we meant it.

I might’ve been a dick sometimes, but I wasn’t the type of guy to put a girl in a helpless or dangerous situation. Obviously, I wasn’t from around here, but I’d walk her home if it came down to it.

Once we got inside the Airbnb, Lane went straight to his room with no more than a “Goodnight” and a yawn.

I shut my bedroom door behind Isla and me quietly and carefully, practically in slow motion to bother Lane the least amount possible.

It was almost two in the morning, and while the rest of the world was asleep, my night was just getting started.

It didn’t take long before our lips were meshing, legs tangling under the covers. I took things how I normally did, as if it were a routine that I knew by heart. Hands wandering across her skin, I explored her most sensitive regions as she did the same to me.

The heat between us grew, and I took things to the next step, helping her out of her clothes before taking off my own, grabbing a condom and slipping it on.

She laid below me, allowing me to hover above her and slide inside her.

All my frustration I’d been feeling earlier in the night was slowly fading, and I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to wander and my body to relax.

A gentle, desperate moan echoed around the room, coming from her small mouth as I sank deeper into her, squeezing my eyes shut. Two hands found their way around my biceps, clutching tightly.

“God,” I groaned, “Kota.”

The cold air hit my skin as one of her hands left my arm and planted firmly in the center of my chest. “What?”

My eyes shot open, immediately realizing my mistake.

Fuck.