Page 21 of Under the Lights (The Big Boys of BRU #2)

Seventeen

Sierra

Still seething, I bent over the stove, furiously scrubbing a stain with my trusty weapon of choice — the scratchy sponge shaped like a happy little face.

Unlike that wee motherfucker, I wasn’t happy. Not at all. I had waited in my room until I heard Ella’s helpers leaving before I dared to set foot outside again.

Then I’d started rage-cleaning. At the rate I was going, this place would soon be spotless. Who the fuck does he think he is? I scrubbed harder.

Oh, right, he’d told me. The cocky, presumptuous, arrogant little shit thought he’d be my next boyfriend .

After he fucking lied to me, no less. Skirting around the truth, my ass . This was just more proof that I couldn’t trust my own judgment. Everyone around me kept feeding me lies, expecting me to just swallow them, and I was sick of it.

It didn’t matter that I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every time I saw a flash of red hair or someone with countless tattoos, I almost twisted my neck to see if it was him.

How, in the name of all that is holy, was this dude not even a freshman? I mean, seriously, what the hell were they feeding these guys back in Georgia?

The only consolation I found in the situation was that I had not actually committed a crime because he was at least of age. That much I gathered at least from a quick — very frantic — scroll through his IG feed.

The beard, the tattoos, the build, the height, the way he carried himself … none of it gave the slightest hint that he hadn’t even graduated yet. I knew men in their mid- to late twenties who weren’t as confident and self-assured as this deceptive asshole.

Now I was going to be on the edge all the time, in my own home. This was supposed to be my sanctuary, but instead it was just another cage.

The anxiety about him having a valid, legitimate reason to show up here and the fact that I was certain he’d make use of this, shamelessly, had my stomach in knots.

Kind of feels more like butterflies , an annoying voice in my head remarked.

Nope, definitely anxiety. No butterflies here.

I stopped my incessant scrubbing when the memory of the way he’d touched me came back to me, so vivid, as if his hand was still clasped around my neck. My stomach gave another little tug.

Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety , I chanted silently. Thankfully, he spared me the humiliation of confirming his theory.

Why did it have to be him ? Why did he have to be the first man to make me feel this way? I was angry at him, angry at myself, at the things he made me feel. I would have to tread carefully now, even here.

Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. Why wouldn’t this fucking stain budge?

This whole thing had to be nipped in the bud; I couldn’t afford to let him get that close to me again, to allow him to take such liberties.

We’d seen how that ended — with my body betraying me and him taking full advantage. There had to be someone else out there who could make me feel that way. I nodded to myself and started scrubbing again.

Besides, I highly doubted that Dom’s focus would remain on me. He’d be a starter this year with Colt leaving, and he was going to have more female attention than he knew what to do with. Which would be good — for both of us.

The only reason Dom was fixated on me at the moment was because I’d been a part of his first college experience. He associated me with that exciting time, to which our night together had probably contributed.

Once he realized that he could get that from a plethora of girls across campus, he’d forget about me.

Finally, the stain budged. I exhaled in relief, straightened my aching back, and walked over to the sink to squeeze out the sponge.

Knowing myself and my penchant for overthinking, I was probably worrying about nothing. What were the chances that Dom would want to hang out with his big sister all the time?

I didn’t have any siblings, but the general gist I’d gathered was that most siblings were annoyed by each other. Especially those so close in age.

Rubbing the stove dry with a dishtowel, I surveyed my work. The counters were spotless, the stainless steel of the appliances gleamed, and the room was free of clutter. So satisfying .

I folded the towel, turned off the kitchen lights, and headed back to my room. Yes, I’d definitely overthought this. Chances were, I wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the summer.

And after that, well … brU’s campus was big. There was no reason for anxiety. Even less for butterflies.

Those fucking moths in drag better stay the hell away from me .

***

I’d been on edge, skulking around the training facility and steering clear of the athletic dorms as if they were radioactive. I didn’t want to run into Dom — God no — but I sure as hell didn’t want to see anyone from my old sorority either.

The thought of facing their fake smiles or sideways glances made my skin crawl.

But with each passing day, I felt a little less like I had to constantly look over my shoulder.

After two drama-free weeks, with no whispers and not a trace of that big, tattooed frame, I decided I was being ridiculous.

I’d been acting like Dom was some kind of evil Jack-in-the-box, just waiting to spring out any second and ruin my life with one smug look.

“Silly goose. Told you, you were overthinking,” I murmured under my breath as I pushed open my door, a large basket of laundry in my arms.

“Overthinking what?” A deep voice said from the couch, and with a shriek, I dropped my basket, clothes scattering around me.

My heart jumped, eyes wide, hand pressed to my chest as I looked up.

Dom was sprawled on the pristine cream sofa, a bowl of what looked like rice and chicken resting easily in his massive palm. The soft glow from the minimalist lamp cast long shadows across his smirking face.

“Oh my God! What the hell are you doing here?” I squeaked, my shock quickly melting into sharp anger.

Dom raised a single eyebrow, playing innocent like a pro.

“My sister lives here? You know your roommate?” His voice was smooth, laced with mock concern. That motherfucker.

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder, smartass,” I said through clenched teeth.

“You’re welcome, Darlin’,” he drawled, a slow smile curling his lips, as he took me in, his eyes trailing down my bare legs.

My nipples stiffened, and I hoped my oversized shirt would be enough to hide them. I couldn’t afford to give him even the slightest indication of him having any effect on me.

My jaw clenched, I bent down wordlessly, and began to gather my strewn-around clothes. I didn’t even hear him get up, but suddenly, there he was, crouched next to me.

“Let me give you a hand with that. I didn’t mean to scare you, Darlin’, I’m sorry.”

I decided that silence was the best policy here. If I didn’t encourage him, he’d surely get bored. He had half the fallen clothes gathered in one hand when he paused.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pinch a piece of fabric between his thumb and index finger and hold it up.

“Give me that,” I snapped. The color of it was a dead giveaway for it being one of my racier pieces of underwear, an itty-bitty scrap of lavender lace.

“Now, what’s got you so riled up?” Twirling it around his finger, his grin turned wicked. “I’m just being helpful. Doesn’t that deserve a reward?”

“A reward?” I choked out.

He dumped the clothes he’d gathered in his other hand into the basket before straightening up.

“Yes, Darlin’. A reward.” His bulky frame towered over me as he pierced me with his gaze. “I think this will do nicely.”

Then he lifted the panties to his nose, inhaled deeply, a low groan rumbling through his chest. He even went the extra mile and let his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Delicious,” he said, flashing me a dangerous smile as he balled them up in his fist, my eyes following his hand as he stuffed them into his pocket. “I’ll keep them safe, don’t worry.”

At a complete loss for words, I gaped at him. He was insane, absolutely unhinged, and I was definitely not turned on by this display. Nope, not even a little bit.

That heat building in my core was something else entirely; it had to be.

I could not be into this .

I needed to get the fuck out of here, away from him, before this turned from a minor glitch into a full-blown disaster.

As I straightened to my full height, the basket propped on my hip, I finally managed to gather my wits. “You do that. It’ll be the closest you’ll ever get to my pussy again, so by all means, knock yourself out.”

He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Have I told you how perfect you are today?”

A warm, fuzzy feeling took root in my chest, despite my best efforts to squash it.

“Cute,” I said lazily, wrinkling my nose at him before sauntering away, pointedly casual.

His chuckle followed me out into the hallway as I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath.

You won’t let him rattle you. You’re in control. He’ll back off sooner rather than later.

When I returned from doing laundry, he was gone. However, a container with some of the food he had eaten earlier was sitting on the counter, along with a note that said, Eat up, xoxo .

I considered throwing it out, just out of spite, but then decided I couldn’t reconcile wasting perfectly good food with my conscience.

As I stuffed my face with the surprisingly delicious food, two notifications popped up on the screen of my phone.

Dominic (@DOMinationstation66) started following you.

DOMinationstation66: You better be thinking of me tonight, Goddess.

I was so wrong. I definitely didn’t overthink it. Dominic Kincaid was going to be a whole lot of trouble.