Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(21)

Damn, but we’ve really turned into a bunch of dumb jocks.

Regardless of how pissed off she was, I put an end to the pranks. I think Beck is still cursing my name—he hates squats. I’m sure the guys won’t even think of looking her way now. Which, on a completely selfish level, gives me a secret satisfaction.

“What the…?” Beck’s voice pulls me from my conflicting thoughts. I hear him bang his helmet against the locker unit. “The f*ck?”

Groaning, I head toward him and a few guys hovering around his locker. I swear, sometimes being the QB of a college football team is like being a freaking babysitter. These guys can whine. A lot.

“You still pissed about the squats?” I ask, lacing my arms over my chest and leaning up against the metal blue unit.

Beck’s face flames red, his meaty cheeks fluttering with his heavy breaths as he stares into his open locker. “Who the f*ck, man?” He reaches into the locker and yanks something out.

My forehead creases as my gaze zeros in on the dark fabric in his hand.

Then he holds it up, stretching out the lacy material.

A thong.

The group of guys start laughing. “You finally coming out of the closet, bro?” James says, clapping Beck on his big shoulder. “I told you that cross-dressing shit back in freshman year would stick.”

Beck growls. “That was Halloween, you douche!” He balls the pair of women’s underwear and tosses them to the bottom of the locker. “Where’s my strap?”

It’s finally starting to register what’s going on. I just thought that a fan stuck them in Beck’s locker. Not really getting why he’s so pissed off. Hey, stranger things have happened.

But soon the locker room fills with curses as the laughter dies down.

I head to my locker and yank open the door. A pink thong hangs on a hook, and next to it, a folded piece of paper. I tweak the note out:

And just for our special QB, the leader of the pack…

I grab the thong. On the front…or whatever you call the thickest part of the damn underwear…is a glittery R. All done up in pink sparkles.

Gavin laughs from over my shoulder. “Dude, yours are bedazzled!”

James says, “How the hell do you even know what that is?”

“I’ve had girlfriends. Unlike your no-ass-getting self.” Gavin punches James in the arm.

As they continue to bicker, I stare at the thong, knowing exactly who it's from. Damn. I just figured out why Arian wanted to join the boosters.

“Okay,” Gavin says, gaining the attention of the room. “Joke time’s over. It’s game time! Where the hell are our straps?”

They start the hunt. Checking the shower area, laundry bags, but I can save them the trouble right now. They’re not here.

“You’re looking at them,” I say, and all eyes land on me. “Strap up, girls.”

Beck’s chest heaves. “No way, man. This is bullshit. I’m not wearing that shit on the field.”

“But you’ll wear it somewhere else?” James says, laughing.

“Shut it!” Beck hollers. He’s really pissed off about this. But honestly, I can’t blame the guy. He’s the biggest dude on the team. A tiny thong won’t be the most comfortable thing for him. Well, not for any of us. But I consider it the last of our punishment for what’s been done to Arian.

“I’ll free ball,” Beck says, turning to go change out.

I hold up my hand. “None of you are stepping foot on that field without you’re boys strapped up,” I say. I make eye contact with each player. “Man the f*ck up and put your damn panties on.”

A chorus of groans travels around the locker room as the guys lower their heads and make their sad ways back to their lockers. They know I’m serious.

I let them vent and curse, be as pissed off as they want, but they know they’re accepting this punishment. I look down at the pink thong with little plastic jewels. I have to admit, I feel a little pissed myself, but the thought that she took the time to make something—even a gift meant as payback—means she had to be thinking of me. Period.

Despite the fact that she had revenge on her mind; wanted to see me suffer. Still, it’s the thought that counts, right?

I suck up my manly pride, shake my head, and strip down. Working myself up to slip on the underwear. Hell.

Hoots and whistles rise, echoing off the walls. Then Gavin streaks past me in only his tiny black thong. I laugh as the guys whip towels and tees at his bare ass.





* * *



First and ten. The roar of the crowd bounces off the stadium. Reverberates through my chest. We’re in the lead by four points. James touches the ground, palms the ball, ready to snap to me. I glance around, catch the eye of one of the linebackers. He sneers, prepared to run me through.

I breathe in the fresh scent of cut grass. The crisp night air. The lights beam down on the field, casting a glowing halo over the stadium’s arc.

This game is ours.

Before I call out to start the play, I look to the risers. To where Arian watches. I spotted her during halftime, a beaming smile on her face as she laughed while I waddled off the field, desperate to dig the damn underwear out of my ass crack.

And now, her smile grows. Our eyes meeting. If laughing at my expense puts that smile on her face, so be it. I’ll make a damn fool of myself if it means never having to see her hurt or upset again.