Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(10)
I’m man enough to admit it.
I have other plans anyway. Other goals in life that go beyond the turf. But until then, I’ll live my damn life, enjoy the game, and kick ass.
Caleb opens his empty coffee cup and throws his balled-up food wrapper inside. “Either way, I think it’s going to take a lot more than one conversation with Aiden to straighten out Ricky.”
He’s not wrong. “Maybe we’re underestimating Griffith though. The dude has that look that makes you swallow your words pretty damn quickly.”
A few of the guys snicker, one of them saying, “Probably all that pent up frustration. I don’t think he ever gets laid.”
Also true, but if he keeps coming to Bea’s Bakery as much as he is and hitting up the pretty girl behind the counter, maybe that’ll change. Hopefully for all of us since it’d get him to stop chewing us out over stupid shit.
Like one little party. He’s strict against us throwing bashes at the house, but we have the space. We’re always careful not to let anyone go down to the basement where he sleeps, so I don’t see what his problem is. We’ve never had the cops called or gotten any complaints, and everyone leaves happy.
More than happy.
Before any of us can say anything, an order is called a few times with nobody grabbing it. I turn to look around and realize it’s probably for the brunette I chased away. One of her friends has the same idea because she walks over to take the bag. “That’s my roommate’s stuff. I’ll bring it back.”
I’m not sure why I do it, but I get up and jog over to her and the other girls as they’re walking toward the door. “Wait up a sec.”
They all pause, the tallest one with bright hair turning to me with a flirty smile instantly plastered on her face.
“You’re DJ right? One of the football players? I’ve seen the games.” Her eyes roam over me with a knowing look on her face. Between her height and hungry eyes, it’s pretty clear she’s a man eater.
“Thanks for the support. Hey, I wanted to ask about your friend.”
Her face twists, the flirty expression turning into a scowl. “I don’t know if I’d exactly call her that. This is, like, the third time she’s ditched us.” Her eyes go to the other two girls, both looking anywhere but at the ringleader of their little clique. A lot of people think college is different than high school, but sometimes it’s a second, pricier version with the same types of mean girls. It’s a popularity contest, one you don’t know you’re in until you surround yourself with the wrong kind of people.
The chick standing in front of me looking like she might have balls bigger than mine is one of them.
Ignoring her quip, I gesture toward the door. I don’t care if I get flak from the guys. “I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”
Her eyebrows go up. “You’re worried about Skylar? She’s fine. She doesn’t do well with social interactions without copious amounts of alcohol.” That gets a couple small giggles from her friends, making the redhead grin. “You obviously don’t remember that. I think you may have had more to drink than her, which is pretty impressive.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The party at your house. She didn’t come home until later the next morning, so I assumed she stayed over. She always has some sort of guy around, so I assumed you were one of them she has on speed dial.”
Oh shit.
That’s where I remember her from. She’s the black-haired girl that left hours after Aiden grilled all of us until we cleaned the place. When he stopped her at the door, I swore the girl was going to piss herself. Not that I blame her. Aiden is a big guy. Bigger in height, muscle, and broodiness. I’d probably be scared shitless too if I were approached by him.
She looked different then. Different hair. Paler, I guess. Her clothes were tighter and a little haphazard, and she was rocking the just-had-sex look.
Huh.
Maybe I pegged her wrong if what her friend says is true. The small sneer on the redhead’s face doesn’t sit well with me, telling me there’s more to the story than she’s letting on. But I’m not sure I want to learn it. I’m not one to compete with other guys for a girl’s attention. Even one as pretty as the brunette.
“Good to know,” I murmur, clear disappointment in my tone.
Her laugh cuts through my pity party, rubbing me the wrong way. “You’re not missing much, trust me. But if you’re looking for someone who knows how to have fun…”
The invitation is wide open, but I don’t take it despite her best efforts.
“Rain check,” I tell her, offering a wink and smooth smile. It’ll never happen, but unlike her, I don’t like making people feel like shit about themselves regardless of what they do with their time and body. For somebody so willing to offer me hers, she’s judgmental about her roommate’s antics.
I back up, shoving my hands into my jeans, and add, “Hope your roommate is all good.”
Even though I probably dodged a bullet as I sit back down with the guys, who are discussing our next away game, I can’t help but feel a little irritated. At what, I don’t know.
The heavy feeling lingers in the pit of my stomach the rest of the night.
Practice was brutal. Coach was in a shit mood for some reason and my muscles are screaming at me in retaliation despite taking the longest, hottest shower known to man after we were dismissed to the locker room. If I had time, I would’ve soaked in an ice bath. Hell, I should have just skipped my last class to take some extra healing time that way Pearce isn’t in an even worse mood tomorrow when he sees how stiff I am.