Jock Rule (Jock Hard #2)(56)

Ronnie: I had to make sure she was normal—I also looked up her court records too, just in case things with the two of you took a turn for the best.

Me: You are unbelievable.

Ronnie: So did they? Take a turn for the best, or the worst?

Me: She asked me to a thing. A benefit.

Ronnie: A benefit??? Ugh, SOCIAL CLIMBER. I freaking KNEW IT!!!!! Run. RUN KIPLING!

Me: Knock it off, it’s not that kind of benefit. It’s for the engineering department, she’s receiving a grant.

Ronnie: Oh. Well, don’t I feel foolish **awkward laugh** You were saying?

Me: My question is, what do I do? Do I buy a suit or what? It’s on campus, so it’s not formal, but I still think I should look nice, but I don’t have anything dressy with me here.

Ronnie: Do you at least have a polo shirt or something?

Me: Yeah, I think so.

Ronnie: There’s your answer then. Wear that, trim that beard up, and do something with your hair, and you won’t have to go buy anything.

Me: You think I should shave?

Ronnie: Uhhhh, I mean…only if you want to. You only just met the girl, and it’s taken you two years to grow that monstrosity. BUT…

Me: But?

Ronnie: It would be a huge gesture. If you like her.

Me: So I should shave, and wear a polo shirt, and not worry about a suit.

Ronnie: Right.

Me: Okay. I can manage that.

Ronnie: Wait—you’re seriously going to shave??? Holy shit.

Ronnie: You LIKE THIS GIRL?????? For real. No bullshitting.

Me: Have you been listening to a thing I said?

Ronnie: You have said NOTHING. You’ve had her over TWICE and you’ve hung out on Fridays and THAT IS ALL YOU’VE GIVEN ME. You throw NO BONES.

Me: Yes, I fucking like her.

Ronnie: Mom is going to freak. You know that, right?

Me: Mom isn’t going to find out yet, VERONICA.

Ronnie: Fine…but when it’s time to tell her, I get to leak the information. Deal?

Me: Deal.





THIRD SATURDAY


“She cleans up nice and makes me want to bang her.”


Teddy

“What’s with the dress?” Mariah is leaned against the door to the bathroom, studying my reflection in the mirror as I apply another coat of mascara.

Makeup I’d asked her to help me with an hour ago.

She said she was too busy, yet here she is, standing there in yoga pants, hair tossed up into a messy top knot, clearly not doing anything productive.

She could have helped me.

“I have that banquet tonight. The one where I’m receiving my grant.”

“A scholarship thing?” I can see her eyes roaming up and down my back. “It looks like you have date.”

I draw in a breath, not sure how much I want to tell her about Kip, or how she’ll react. She knows nothing; not since the night she whispered in his ear and propositioned him.

He still hasn’t told me what she said, but what else could it possibly have been?

“It’s a bit of both, I guess?”

“Are you going with someone?” She’s interested now, studying her nails in that way she does when she’s pretending not to care. Feigning disinterest when she’s insatiably curious.

It’s such a bitchy thing to do.

Why can’t she be happy for me?

“Yes. I’m going with someone.” I purposely omit details, knowing it’s going to drive her crazy not knowing who my date it.

One of her hand flops over, wrist holding it out. “Well? Are you going to tell me who it is, or what?”

“You know Kip Carmichael?”

“Yes.”

“He’s taking me.” Or I’m taking him. Whichever.

“Sasquatch is your date?”

“Yes.”

If sarcasm could form a laugh, Mariah pulls it off. “A guy named Sasquatch is taking you to your engineering banquet. Nice one, Teddy. Way to raise your expectations.”

The applicator wand of black mascara pauses over my lashes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

No one has anything bad to say about Kip, other than a few guys who think he’s an asshole—so I don’t know why Mariah has that look of disgust on her face.

Or is it something else?

“You sound…” Jealous. Bitter. “Petty.”

“I’m not being petty. Like I care who your date it. It’s one night; it’s not like you’re actually dating the guy.”

I say nothing, instead, resume my primp session by uncapping a tube of mauve lip tint.

“Unless you are.” She’s standing up straight now, arms crossed, a slight glare across her brow. “Are you dating him, Teddy?”

“I think that’s what I’d call it, yeah. I’m dating him.”

“Since when?”

“Since…” I count back a few weekends, trying to figure out the timeline. “A few weeks.”

“A few weeks! What the hell, why didn’t you say anything?”

I laugh, careful not to smudge my lipstick. “Why didn’t I say anything? Are you serious? You haven’t noticed I haven’t been home the past three weekends? I could have been dead somewhere—you never even text me anymore.”