The Risk (Briar U #2)(71)

“How do you know that?”

“Because I do.”

“Would you bet your life on it?” Hazel says in challenge.

“I don’t need to bet my life on it,” I answer in a dry tone. “But yes, I’m confident that this isn’t some dastardly plot on her end.”

“If you say so.”

But the omg you’re such an idiot look on Hazel’s face tells me she doesn’t buy it.





23





Jake





“Do I have a bubble butt?”

I scroll through my messages, but there’s nothing from Brenna. It’s been five days. Five days of complete radio silence. That is un-fucking-acceptable.

“Yo! Are you listening to me?”

I lift my head to glance at Brooks. We’re in the media room at the arena, waiting for everyone else to arrive for the team meeting. We’re scheduled to watch game tape this morning, which’ll be fun. Watching Brenna’s friends skate around on a huge screen.

Shit. Hazel’s right—I am thinking about this nonstop, and that’s not good.

“You’re not going to answer the question?” Brooks demands.

“No, because I don’t understand what you’re asking me.” I set my phone down and lean back in my padded chair, crossing my arms behind my head.

“It’s not that hard, Connelly. Do I have a bubble butt or what?”

I stare at him. “What the hell’s a bubble butt?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” He rakes a frustrated hand through his blond hair.

“Okay, so like a fat ass?”

“No, not a fat ass. For fuck’s sake. It’s like two perfectly round globes, and they’re usually super tight. You know, like two bubbles, but on your butt. A bubble butt.” He sounds exasperated. “What part of this don’t you understand?”

I’m genuinely bemused. “Why are you asking?”

He flops down in a chair. “Because last night I was banging Kayla—”

“Oh, I know,” I say dryly. “I heard every second of it.”

“—and we were up against the wall, you know, with her legs wrapped around me. I was holding her ass and pushing her down on my cock—”

“Dude. I legit don’t want to hear this.”

“There’s a point, I swear,” he insists.

Our teammates start filing into the room. Coby, McCarthy, Dmitry. Heath and his fellow Whipped Cream Bandit, Jonah. A few seniors.

Brooks is unfazed by the audience. “So we were doing it standing up and she’s clawing at my shoulders. And my closet door was open so she could see the mirror, you know, the full-length one on the inside of the door?” Outrage colors his tone. “And suddenly she starts giggling, and I was like, what the hell are you laughing at, and she said it’s because she just noticed I have a bubble butt!”

“What is happening right now?” Adam the freshman says miserably. The poor kid still hasn’t adapted to us yet. You’d think after almost an entire season he’d be used to the lunacy.

Brooks spins around in his chair. We have a sweet setup here in the video room. Padded chairs that actually swivel, a huge screen that takes up nearly an entire wall. Plus a ton of cool tech that Coach likes to utilize when he’s freezing frames or highlighting certain plays.

“What’s a bubble butt?” Heath asks.

“It’s when your ass looks like two globes,” Coby supplies.

“See! He knows what I’m talking about!” Brooks points to Coby, nodding in approval. “Do I have that?” he asks the room.

“Dude, I hate to disappoint you,” I say, “but I haven’t spent much time staring at your ass. I also haven’t spent much time examining other dudes’ asses, and since I don’t know what a bubble butt looks like, I can’t tell you if you have one. So for the love of Jesus, can we talk about something else?”

Apparently not, as Brooks is already marching toward one of the laptops on Coach’s desk. He clicks the track pad a few times, and a web browser appears on the big screen behind him. “Okay, so…” He types the words “bubble butt” in the image search.

Two seconds later, rows and rows of thumbnails appear on the screen, all featuring some very sexy female behinds.

“Ugh, sorry, no, I don’t want to look at girls.” Brooks alters the search to say “man bubble butt.”

The first image that pops up is one of a fully clothed grown man in an actual bubble.

“The fuck’s that dude doing in a bubble?” Coby guffaws.

“Maybe he’s got that bubble disease,” someone offers. “You know, where you need to be shut away from the rest of the world.”

“The bubble isn’t the disease,” Dmitry says with a snicker. “The bubble is the solution to the disease.”

“Why is it so hard to find pictures of male asses?” Brooks growls. “All right, boys. Brace yourself.”

“Weston,” I caution. “Whatever you’re about to do, please don’t.”

Unfortunately, there’s no stopping Brooks when he goes on a tangent, especially when it’s related to his appearance. The man is vain as fuck.