Jock Rule (Jock Hard #2)(22)

“So I shouldn’t climb out a window because we’re on the second story? Got a ladder I can prop against the house?”

“Jesus Christ, don’t even joke about going out a window. Use the damn door if you’re going to escape.”

“But do you blame me? You’re kind of…” She waves a hand around in front of my torso.

“Abnormally large and hairy? Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot.”

“No, I was going to say it’s probably not the smartest idea to be in a strange house, far from campus and my apartment, with a strange guy I just met, especially since we’ve both been drinking and I don’t know anything about you.”

That’s where she’s right. This is a terrible idea.

But here we are.

My lips twitch beneath my scruff. “Just try to get some sleep, Theodora.”

Her soft laugh fades as the guest room door inches closed.

“You too, Kipling.”

Brat.

***

My phone pings in the dark.

Ronnie: Are you still alive?

Me: Go to bed, Veronica.

Ronnie: Ahhh, good. So she hasn’t murdered you. Yet.

Me: This girl is harmless.

Ronnie: What the hell possessed you to bring her home?

Me: Her friends are assholes and ditched her at the house.

Ronnie: So? Why do you even care?

Me: I have no fucking idea. But…

Ronnie: Don’t leave me hanging—it’s two in the morning here and if you’re going to keep me up, make it good. Your niece will be up in three hours and I’m going to look like complete shit tomorrow.

Me: I—Jesus, I can’t believe I’m saying this.

Ronnie: Oh damn, this is going to be good, I can feel it.

Me: You can’t say anything to Mom and Dad. Vault

Ronnie: **rolls eyes** Do I ever tell them anything???

Me: Yes, last year you told them about the public indecency citation.

Ronnie: That wasn’t to get you in trouble! That was to shock them because I wanted to see the look on Mom’s botoxed face! I JUST WANTED TO SEE IF HER FOREHEAD WOULD CREASE WHEN SHE GOT MAD!

Ronnie: It didn’t by the way. So. Hilarious.

Me: Goddammit Veronica…

Ronnie: Okay, okay, I’m listening. Go.

Me: This girl—her name is Teddy

Ronnie: That sounds soooo East Coast, pleated skirt, cardigan-y of her.

Me: Stop.

Ronnie: **zips lip**

Me: She’s been coming to the rugby house every weekend with these bitchy friends of hers, and they keep ditching her, and tonight she didn’t have a place to sleep. Like, I wasn’t going to let her sleep in the hallway of her apartment.

Ronnie: How uncharacteristically chivalrous of you.

Me: So I brought her home and we started talking, and the next thing I fucking knew, I was volunteering to help her out.

Ronnie: Help her out with WHAT??? God, do I even want to know?

Ronnie: Yes, yes I do.

Ronnie: And for the record, I just sat up in bed and turned on the light, and now Stuart is awake and he wants to hear the end of this story too.

Ronnie: BTW, since I woke him up, I owe him a BJ. So he says thanks.

Me: Jesus Christ.

Ronnie: GET ON WITH THE STORY, MY GAWD KIPLING. What are you helping this Teddy person with?

Me: How to date. I told her I’d be her hairy godmother.

Ronnie: You’re kidding me right?

Me: No

[five minutes later]

Me: Are you still there?

Ronnie: I’m sorry, hold on. Stuart and I are laughing so hard we have tears coming out of our eyes.

Ronnie: Hairy godmother? Oh my god, Kip, where do you come up with this shit? Mom would DIE.

Me: You said you weren’t going to say anything!

Ronnie: I know, I know, but…

Me: I swear to God Veronica.

Ronnie: RELAX, bro—relax.

Ronnie: Hairy godmother—what the hell even is that?

Me: I told her I’d teach her to be more assertive. She’s way too nice.

Ronnie: Omg. Do you LIKE HER?

Me: Yeah, she’s nice.

Ronnie: “Nice.” No. I mean—do you LIKE her, like her?

Me: No. She’s just a friend.

Ronnie: Kip, do you know how many great love stories start that way? “She’s just a friend.”

Ronnie: Yeah—a friend you want to bang.

Me: Don’t start with me. I do not want to bang her.

Ronnie: Yet.

Me: She’s just a friend. Barely even a friend.

Ronnie: Mark my words, Kipling: this isn’t going to have the ending you think it will…

***

TEDDY

I can’t sleep—no surprise—for several reasons:



It’s a strange house I’ve never been in, full of noises I don’t normally have to listen to while I’m trying to fall asleep.

It’s massive and I’m slightly intimidated.

There’s a huge dude down the hallway.

There’s a lock on my door, but he and I are alone, so this was probably one of the worst decisions I’ve made this semester besides living with Mariah.





Mariah.

What am I going to do about her? Do I have to do anything? I know she loves me—and the way she behaves? I’ve said it a hundred times (because lately, I’m always defending her) that’s just how she is, how she has always been, really. Since we were young, she’s always been hypercompetitive, and not just with me—with everyone.