The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(73)

“Dude, if you think this is a love note, I feel bad for your grandkids when they find your old ‘love’ letters tucked away in an old hat box in your attic.” Nix held it out to me. Berk’s hand grabbed for the edges of the paper.

His name was neatly written at the top. Loopy feminine handwriting scrawled across the paper, perfectly straight even though it wasn’t lined, detailing the scene they wanted to play out with Berk.

You’d sink between my thighs, slamming your cock into me, and I’d be so wet for you. My screams would be the only thing to drown out the sound of our bodies slapping against one another. And your groans as you came harder than you ever thought possible.

My eyebrows shot up and my mouth hung open. The rest of the note went into even more detail. The back of my neck heated up. Nix blocked Berk at the top of the steps, not letting him pass.

LJ came out of his room. “You guys ready? I don’t need Coach riding my ass about being late.” I handed the note to him.

He dropped his duffel and took the paper from my hand with a suspicious look in his eyes. Flattening the paper, he started reading. He made it halfway then sucked in a sharp breath, choking on his own spit.

“Why in the hell would you think one of us wrote this?” LJ waved it in front of Berk, who broke past the Nix blockade and grabbed the note from LJ, then slipped it back into the envelope.

“I was caught off guard. That’s all. None of you wrote this, really? Or put someone up to writing it?” He focused on each one of us like he could break us under his scrutiny.

“I don’t even want to think about you and some of those words in the same sentence, let alone combine them into a note like that, but this is the Brothel, so we know people have some fucked-up ideas of what happens here.”

“You’re right. Probably some crazy who’s going to try to jump me at the next party.” Berk didn’t trash the note, though, instead slipping it into his back pocket before he jogged downstairs.





*



I tapped my phone against the side of my leg. Someone behind me snored and probably needed to get a doctor to check that out. There might as well have been a foghorn on the bus, which was filled with the familiar smell of game equipment, convenience store microwaved food, and soda. Most of the guys had headphones on, played on their phones, or tried to sleep. We’d won another one, another step closer to the championship. Just one more game to go, but the win took a back seat.

I stared up the aisle at the highway off-ramp. We’d be back on campus soon. Seph hadn’t responded to any of my messages. My leg bounced up and down. She never ghosted on messages. It was always a prompt reply as soon as Read appeared below the message, but none of my texts had been read since I’d left on Thursday.

Two days of agony, trying to figure out why she hadn’t replied. It wasn’t like I could call up her roommate. Had the birthday party been too much? Was she pissed I was traveling so much? The end of the season always got a bit more intense with practices, traveling, and games. I’d make it up to her.

I was tempted to call Marisa and have her check on Seph, but that seemed a little stalkerish. It wasn’t like her roommate would leave her dying in the middle of the floor…would she?

“Matthews, don’t forget the scouts are coming to practice tomorrow.” Coach leaned over the seat in front of me on the bus, bracing his hands on the seat backs.

LJ tensed beside me, his hand tightening around his phone. The glow of the screen lit up his face.

Coach’s gaze darted to him and his screen. The creases in his forehead deepened. “LJ.” His name might as well have been a rival team’s from the way Coach said it. “They’ll be there by ten. Make sure you’re not late.” He tugged on the brim of his hat and went back to his seat.

“Think there’s any chance he’ll get hit by a bus in the next year? If not, I’m screwed when it comes to getting scouted. I ride the bench more than I ride this bus.”

“Have you told Marisa about him taking whatever’s going on between them out on you?”

He stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “She’s got enough to deal with. What am I supposed to say? Yeah, Risa, I know he abandoned you and your mom when you were little, but how about you get along with him for the sake of my career?”

“Sounds reasonable.”

He looked over at me like I’d suggested he set himself on fire and race around the field to get the scouts’ attention.

“You don’t know what it’s like for her.”

“Does she know what it’s like for you?” I lifted my chin toward our coach, who was crouched down a few rows up, talking to another one of the seniors. “You have a year left. This is make or break time. If you’re not on the field and you’re not being seen by scouts, none of this matters, unless you don’t want to go pro.”

“Of course I do, but she’s my best friend.”

“And wouldn’t a best friend want what’s best for you?”

He leaned back in his seat and stared down at his phone. Without another word, he dragged his headphones up onto his head and stared out the window.

This was what happened when you put people ahead of your career. These were the types of hard choices I’d done my best to avoid—until Seph. I dragged my fingers through my hair. I’d never expected her. Why hasn’t she answered? Did something happen to her? We’d never gone this long without talking.