Page 51 of The Substitute (New York Gods #4)

FORTY-THREE

TOBI

I’m standing outside the bar trying to convince myself to go inside. Am I really going to do this? In jeans and Teddy’s jersey while the team is in their suits?

My blood heats at the idea of seeing him in it. At the idea of taking it off him or kneeling for him and sucking him off while he’s still wearing it and I’m naked. Fuck.

Picturing both Savage and Ambrose in suits, fully dressed, while I’m naked and being passed between them, has blood surging toward my cock. Oh, Christ. Stupid traitorous dick doesn’t care that we’re mad at Savage.

I shake my head. Get it together. Now is not the time for that.

Do I want to spend time with Ambrose outside of our dorm room?

Yes. Do I want to see a bunch of puck bunnies flirting with him, throwing themselves at him, and probably shoving their tits on him?

Absolutely not. But with everything that’s going on, I just want to be near him, and I hate myself for the weakness.

I don’t know what’s worse. Knowing he’s out here and people are throwing themselves at him or being here and seeing it’s probably not as bad as I think? Sitting in the dorm thinking about it drives me to the brink of madness when I don’t have a distraction, though.

I want all his attention. It’s stupid and immature, and I hate that I crave it, but right now, I do.

Life has taught me I’m not safe, and right now, my nervous system is screaming at me that I’m in danger. It has been for a while, and I can’t seem to get it calm.

“Hey,” a soft breath caresses my ear, and I jump. Spinning around, I find Ambrose smirking at me. Finally, I can breathe.

He drags his eyes over me and purses his lips at the number on my jersey. One.

“Don’t you dislike your brother?”

“He’s growing on me, kinda,” I sigh. “And I figured this was less conspicuous.” I look away from him and shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching for him.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing his jersey.”

I half-laugh. “I can’t wear yours.”

“No, but I’m going to fuck you while you wear my jersey.” Ambrose’s tone has me fighting a smile. There’s a possessiveness to it that makes my insides buzz. God, I love it when he lets that out. When he claims me.

I want to melt, to touch him, but I don’t. I can’t. Not here.

“You’ll have to earn it.” I raise an eyebrow at him, and a full-fledged smile transforms his face.

“Are you challenging me?”

“Maybe.” I cross my arms and hold my ground.

“Oh, roomie, I don’t think you know what you’ve just done.”

I shrug as the blush heats my cheeks.

“Come on. Let’s go before all the blood in my brain heads south.”

I snort and follow him in.

The bar is loud and full of hockey players, puck bunnies, and drunk hockey fans. Oh goodie.

We’ve barely stepped through the door when some girl has her tits against him and dude bros are calling his name. Jesus. How does anyone deal with this? It’s so overstimulating.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Ambrose says to Teddy.

“Broseph!” Teddy yells, making a beeline for me, and I groan. Drunk Teddy is so much worse than sober Teddy. “Are you okay?” I’m confused and about to say something when he goes on, “A cat got you? It’s a little known fact there are big cats hiding in the city!”

“No,” Ambrose tries to cut in, but Teddy goes on.

“I’ve heard of numerous attacks on the forums I follow.”

“Are you on conspiracy theory forums?!” I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t stop myself.

“Obviously. It’s where all the good stuff is. Rhys told me to stop going on them and tried to block the websites, but he just doesn’t know what conspiracy is code for.”

Does this mean Rhys is here, too? If Rhys is here, is Savage? They’re supposed to be out of town tonight, but with an earlier game, they had time to get back by now. But would Savage think to look for me here? Ugh. I don’t know anymore.

“What do you think conspiracy theory means?” Ambrose asks suspiciously.

“It’s code for top secret stuff the government doesn’t want you to know!” Teddy hooks his arm around my neck and pulls me away from Ambrose while he gets swallowed by the crowd. My brother is talking, but I can’t understand half of it—something about cheese and ham in the bathroom.

“What?” I peel his arm off me. “Are you cooking in the bathroom again?”

Teddy hands me a beer, which I take, and try to find Ambrose in the crowd, but he must have sat down somewhere because I don’t see him.

“Not anymore. Rhys took the quesadilla maker and put a lock on the plug. You believe that? How am I supposed to eat in the shower?”

“No one eats in the shower.”

“I do. When I’m bulking up,” my brother says like this is the most obvious thing in the world.

I don’t know how to respond to that, and since I’m trying to be nicer, I choose not to say anything.

Ambrose’s laugh carries across the bar, and I turn to look for him. He’s leaning on a high-top table with a big smile on his face as he listens to some dude bro telling him something. He laughs at all the right places, smiles, probably winks.

This is okay. I can do this. He’s just talking to people. I don’t need to be attached to his hip. This is fine.

The doubts try to creep in, tries to tell me he’s better off with someone in here. It can’t be that hard to find someone easier to deal with.

I chug the last of my beer and notice Rhys sitting on a stool next to Teddy, watching me.

“What?” I snap and don’t really mean to, so I force myself to take a deep breath.

He flicks his gaze at Ambrose then back to me, raising an eyebrow in question. I’ve known him long enough to know he’s asking if I have something going on with my roommate, but I can’t tell him, so I shake my head.

“You’re wearing your glasses,” Rhys says like I’m not aware of it.

“Clearly.”

“Why? You hate them.”

I get another beer and take a drink before I answer, but I’m interrupted.

“Aww, broseph, you’re wearing my jersey!” Teddy reaches for me, quicker than I expect, and I’m forced into a hug.

And he’s getting really drunk. Great.

“Ugh, get off!” I shove at him, but he clings to me harder. “Rhys! Get him off me, or I’m going to hurt him!”

Rhys sighs and wraps his arms around the big lug. “Come on, Teddy Bear, let go of Tobi.”

“But he’s my broseph! My broster. My lil bro!” He’s all but yelling while still clinging to me. “He’s wearing my jersey! It means he loves me! I’m so excited to see him, I just want to squish him and squeeze him!”

“We’ve talked about this. You can’t touch people without permission. Remember the guy in the park?” Rhys sounds like he’s talking to a small child.

“He looked like Santa! How do you expect me to not hug Santa?”

“He had wings on,” Rhys deadpans, and I hide my laugh behind my hand.

Teddy turns to face Rhys like that’s going to make this conversation make more sense. “But they were red wings!”

“Babe. He was a bear, and it was a pride festival. He also had a twink on a leash.”

Oh, for fuck‘s sake.

“I swear to God, Teddy,” I start with a laugh, but another hockey bro, one I kind of recognize, starts talking to him.

“Tendy! I found bunnies! Not the puck kind—like real bunnies!” The guy seems really excited for some reason, and Teddy’s head turns around like that possessed girl in The Exorcist while Rhys’ eyes widen in horror.

“No!” Rhys says while Teddy shouts, “Yes!”

I have no idea what is happening right now, and I am so far out of my element, I might as well be on Mars.

Why the hell am I here?

The music is too loud and grating on my nerves, the bodies are packed in like sardines, and the smell of too much cologne, beer, and perfume are giving me a headache.

Reaching for my phone, I text Ambrose.

Tobi: I’m heading back to the dorm.

Ambrose: What? Why?

Tobi: There’s a lot going on in here. Thank you for inviting me.

Ambrose: We didn’t get to hang out.

Tobi: I guess you’ll have to make it up to me then.

Ambrose: Oh? I’m sure I can handle that. I won’t be much longer.

Tobi: You better not be.

Pushing through the doors of the bar, I suck in a lungful of air, ready to let my shoulders drop and close my eyes for a second to clear my head.

But I feel it. Someone watching me. Looking up, my heart jack knifes when Savage is there. There’s a crowd of people surrounding him, and at least two are attempting to flirt with him, all while he’s looking hot as sin.

And now directly at me.

Panic sets in as hurt washes over me. How do I face him? Do I ignore him? Go talk to him? I miss him so much, but I don’t know how to trust him.

He’s watching me. Only me.

Afraid of falling apart in public, I start walking as he extricates himself from the group and catches up with me. “Hi.”

“Did you know I would be here?”

“Rhys said you might be, so I didn’t go in.” He falls in step beside me, and it feels like an open wound.

“So you were just going to stand outside all night?”

“No. I’d texted Lovelace to see where he’s gone since Rhys and a couple of the other guys want to be here.” He opens up his phone to show me the texts, but I wave him off.

“I don’t need to see.”

“I wasn’t trying to stalk you.”

“I believe you.” But I half wish he was.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” I glance back to see if the people who were flirting with him are watching us. They are. “You going to go home with one of them?”

Shock and then disgust washes over his features. “Fuck no. No one is touching me but you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. I don’t know how I’m going to feel.”

He reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Then I’ll just have to wait.”

“You’re not going to do that.” A hint of warmth spreads in my chest. I shouldn’t like that he’s waiting, but I do.

“I am. I’m not fucking this up again. Even if it’s ten years and you have to like marry and divorce Ambrose.” He releases my hand, and I miss it immediately.

“That’s not nice!”

He laughs. “Not my fault you’re divorcing Ambrose. That’s on him.”

I roll my eyes, fighting a smile. “Goodnight, Savage.”

“Good night, baby girl.”

By the time I get back to the dorm, I’m missing Savage and also Ambrose. I’m horny and sad, and it’s fucking complicated. I could jack off, but maybe I should tease Ambrose…

Stripping off my clothes, I stretch out on my stomach, arching my hips, and take a picture over my shoulder. My ass looks good, and you can’t see my face—just in case—so I send the image to Ambrose.

I’m buzzing with anticipation by the time I get his reply.

Ambrose: JFC you gotta warn a guy before you send pics like that

Oops.

Tobi: Um. Sorry?

Ambrose: I’m not. Fuck that’s sexy. I’ll be using it later.

Tobi: Or you could use it now…

A blush explodes on my chest, up my neck, and over my face. How the hell does anyone do this without turning bright red? It’s not fair.

Ambrose: Don’t fucking move.