Page 68
Kota
M y pinky was doused with Aquaphor and wrapped in saran wrap, and I rocked that shit when we went out for round two of celebrating the championship win.
I still couldn’t believe Bridget and I had gotten matching tattoos. The idea first came about when we were drunk sophomore year and I got naked to show Bridget the tiny flower tattoo on my pelvic bone that I’d gotten on my eighteenth birthday.
I’d always wanted a tattoo growing up, but my mom had never been fond of them, so like the young teenage idiot that I was, I got one somewhere that she’d never see.
I vividly remember Bridget laying on the floor of our dorm, laughing at the ceiling while I told her the story. When I laid beside her, the idea came naturally. We went over countless ideas, and at the end of the night, we agreed that if we were still best friends by the end of senior year, then we’d get matching tattoos.
And that’s exactly what we did.
Now she was really stuck with me for life.
I hadn’t been expecting the boys to join us for our tattoos, and I definitely didn’t think they’d get tattoos of their own.
It was sweet though that they did. For two people that weren’t actually related, they treated each other like their other half. I knew Bridget and I were best friends; we did everything together. But Crew and Lane were some next level shit.
It was a Monday, and the only people at Stallions were the hockey team and our friend group. The rest of campus was sane, probably at a night class or sitting at home, doing homework and getting their life together.
Whereas the hockey team was acting like it was spring break.
I’d already seen Matt crush three cans against his forehead. I even sent a video to El, and all she responded was, “Ew.”
Jett and Cody were sloshed, leading a conga line with the rest of the hockey team attached.
And TJ had been dancing in the corner by himself for fifteen minutes to Taylor Swift. No one knew why Taylor Swift had been playing back-to-back for so long, but we assumed TJ had been the one requesting all the songs.
I smiled, watching Lane spin Bridget and waltz around with her. They were adorable. After everything she’d been through, I was thankful that Lane came in and showed her what she truly deserved. He was like Prince Charming in the flesh.
Meanwhile, Crew was leaned back into his bar stool, an arm extended across the countertop, clutching his beer while his other hand was snaked around my waist. We were practically the same height now, nearly eye level.
Taking in the scene before me, I shook my head. “I knew you guys were crazy,” I said, “but I didn’t realize you were this crazy.”
Crew’s lazy, drunken smile cut straight through to my heart. He was so captivating without even trying. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“No?” I questioned.
“Nah. Just wait for Bender Week.”
My face twisted at the name. “What the hell is Bender Week?”
With a light lick of his lips, he slipped his hand into my back pocket. “When the season ends, we go on a week-long bender. Drinking night and day for a week straight.”
Brows nearly touching, I blinked at him. “Aren’t you just hungover the whole time?”
“Yep, the whole time,” he stated, matter-of-factly.
“Then how is that enjoyable?”
Crew shrugged. “It’s not about being drunk. It’s about being together and celebrating.”
“Then why do you have to be drunk at all?”
He smiled at the snappy attitude in my tone. “Because it makes it more fun.”
My eyes rolled, head lulling with it until my mouth reached my straw. Taking a swig of my long island, I nearly spit it all out and onto the floor when Crew leaned into my ear and listed every single thing he wanted to do to me right that second.
Naturally, I gulped, sending my long island down the wrong tube. Shoving my face into my elbow, I coughed uncontrollably.
“Are you okay?” Crew chuckled, lightly grabbing my wrist.
Nodding, I kept coughing. Geez, I’m sure my coughing is really setting the mood.
Next thing I knew, Crew was holding a water up to my face. “Thanks,” I muttered once I could breathe again. “I’m alright.”
As Crew’s lips met my cheek, my brain released an unimaginable amount of dopamine and oxytocin that probably should’ve left me dead on the floor from overdosing.
I knew we didn’t have to hide anymore since everybody knew we had a thing going on, but it was still such a switch up being touchy in public.
Change was scary sometimes, even when it was a good change.
I loved Crew’s playful and sweet side, but it was confusing me more, and that was what scared me. For someone who hated the thought of commitment, why act like my boyfriend?
When Matt chugged the rest of his beer and took his phone out to give a drunk call to who I assumed was El, Crew took that as our cue to leave, whispering that we didn’t want to be around to see the shit show of drunk Matt in his feels.
During our short walk to our apartment, I could tell Crew was excited to be alone. He couldn’t keep his hands off me the whole time, looping his thick fingers into the belt loops of my jeans, squeezing the life out of my hand, brushing my hair over to the side.
But the second he closed his bedroom door and threw his hands on my waist, I covered them with my own, squeezing.
“Wait.”
Concern sliced across his face and his grip immediately loosened on me. “What’s wrong?” he softly asked. “Did you not want to? We don’t have to.”
My heart stuttered within my ribcage at his gentleness. I could feel my face soften as I toughened my grip on his hands, making sure they stayed in place. “No, no, it’s not that,” I assured him. “I’m just... I haven’t finished my period yet.”
“Oh,” Crew murmured, finally understanding before he just stayed there for a few moments, beats of silence flying by. Then suddenly, the lustful blaze in his eyes relit and he shook his head, his thumbs slipping into the waistband of my jeans. “I don’t care.”
“You don’t care?”
“No.”
I made a face, still unsure. “I don’t wanna gross you out.”
He flashed a dimple, and my tummy dipped. “You could never gross me out.”
Another rebuttal was about to slip out, but he shut me up with his mouth, kissing me hard. It was the type of kiss that was full of passion and heat and feeling, the type that left you in need of air.
My tampon came out, a towel went down, and he fucked me like he couldn’t care any damn less that I was still on my period.
After we showered and got ready for bed, he pulled me to him, clutching onto me like you would with a teddy bear.
The same thoughts were repeating over and over in my mind, nagging me until I had to bite my bottom lip to keep them from spilling out.
What are we?
I’d been as patient as I could be for a few months now and considering Crew would be leaving for Chicago in less than two months, time was ticking away.
I needed answers, but I was scared of them.
My thoughts were getting drowned out by the deafening roar of my pulse, and right as I festered up the bravery to force the words out, I heard the peaceful and even snoozes that Crew was letting out.
He’d fallen asleep.
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