The Locker Room(80)

Silence falls. I’ve never spoken like this to Carson. I can see he’s just as surprised as I am.

“Let’s go, man,” Holt says, eyes on me. He gets me.

“You’re not even going to consider my idea?”

“No.”

Frustrated, Carson hops off my bed while shaking his head. “You know, you think it’s a joke, but that locker room has powers, mark my words. You’re going to regret this.”

I lift my arm and point to the door. “Go. Now.” I’m so pissed off. What was Carson thinking?

They both exit the room and I slump back into bed.

The only thing I’m going to regret is pursuing Emory Ealson in the first place. I should have left her alone that first day on campus. I should have let her find her own way.

But with the way her innocent and timid eyes looked at me, fuck, I couldn’t have walked away. I wanted to know more about her, and I didn’t relent until I did.

A lot of good that did me.

Now, I’m left with a broken heart, an idiotic plan to get the girl to fall for me again—so not using it—and a stomach full of Oreos that didn’t even taste good going down.

Great, she ruined fucking Oreos for me.





Chapter Thirty





One Month Post Breakup

Emory: Good luck in Texas. Tell your mom I said hi.

Knox: Thanks, we’re at the airport right now. I hate traveling with the team. Everyone stares at us, because we have to wear the same warmup gear.

Emory: You hate people staring at you? That’s hard to believe.

Knox: I’m so shy, can I bury my head in your tits?

Emory: You know there isn’t enough room to accommodate your massively sized head . . . and ego.

Knox: From what I remember—drunk, passed out with tit in my hand—you have enough weight in those tits to handle me.

Emory: No flirting.

Knox: Wow, you consider that flirting? Where the hell was I going wrong telling you instead how beautiful you are? Note to self, talk about Emory’s boob weight.

Emory: Stahhhhhhp.

Knox: If you want to talk about my dick weight, feel free.

Emory: I don’t want to embarrass you.

Knox: Oh, I see what you did there, implying my dick is small. Well, I think you know that’s not the truth.

Emory: Wouldn’t know, never had it in any of my holes.

Knox: I literally just spit my drink all over Carson. Now he’s pulling at my pants, trying to trade. Thanks a lot.

Emory: You’re welcome. Safe flight.





Two Months Post Breakup

Knox: Carson said he saw you in the library today.

Emory: Wow, cool story, bro.

Knox: I wasn’t done typing.

Emory: . . . I’m waiting.

Knox: He said you were talking to some girl who was trying to date me, telling her I have a small, un-weighted penis. What’s that shit about, buddy?

Emory: Was he drunk? Because that never happened.

Knox: Pretty sure it did.

Emory: No, it didn’t. It was in the quad, not the library.

Knox: Why do you have to ruin my jokes? You take things too far.

Emory: Let me guess . . . you’re going to need to cry in my bosom again?

Knox: It’s only fucking fair. I’m so distraught, so please bring your tits to me.

Emory: There’s more to my body than my boobs, Knox.

Knox: What’s that? Sorry, I was staring at a picture of you in a bikini top you posted on social media.

Emory: What did I tell you about flirting?

Knox: Hey, friends flirt. I flirt with Carson constantly. I think we’re one dick pic away from making out on Saturday, which reminds me, are you coming to the party?

Emory: No. Lindsay, Dottie, and I are going to a show in Chicago, courtesy of Dottie’s dad.

Knox: And how come I wasn’t invited?

Emory: Because last time I saw you in person, you “accidentally” kissed me at a party.

Knox: I tripped, thank God your lips were there to catch me.

Emory: You pulled me into a corner and made out with me . . . for an hour.

Knox: Uh, it takes two people to make out, so point that accusatory finger right back at yourself, ma’am. And you were the one who had their hand up my shirt.

Emory: It was a weak moment for me.

Knox: Want to have another one tonight?

Emory: No.

Knox: Come on, like old times, let’s grind it out and hey, if my dick accidentally slides into you, then so be it.

Emory: It’s nice to see how delusional you are.

Knox: Apparently only where you’re concerned.





Five Months Post Breakup

Knox: You left your bra here last night.

Emory: Throw it out. I’m never coming to another party again.

Knox: Why? I had one hell of a time catching up with my friend.

Emory: Because, we can’t do that anymore.

Knox: What? Make out, feel each other up, and then watch you sprint out of my room, leaving me with blue balls? I agree, let’s get naked next time.

Emory: You sucked on my nipples.

Knox: And fuck have I missed those nipples.

Emory: Seriously, no more parties. You’re lethal at those. We are just friends.

Knox: Yeah, well aware. You tell me every time I see you.