Jockblocked: A Novel (Gridiron Book 2)(43)
“Matt…” I say warningly.
He grins into his bottle, not at all chastened. It would likely take a gaggle of nuns to get him to behave and maybe not even then.
“Hot is a word used to describe anything that gets our dicks hard. It could be red lips or a sliver of skin between the waistband of a girl’s jeans and the top of her shirt. It could be, hell, smell. Hot’s not the same as pretty or attractive or interesting or nice. It’s just, f*ck that makes me hard. Girls use it to describe guys they want to bang.” He snaps his mouth shut as a thought occurs to him. By the naughty gleam in his eyes, I know exactly where his dirty mind went. “Does that mean you want to bang Charity? Because, Goldie, I would be so down for that.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s a negative in the risk assessment.”
“Ah, I was just kidding.” At my raised eyebrow of disbelief, he clarifies, “Okay, I’ll admit that seeing you with another girl would be hot. But the truth is seeing you in any kind of sexual situation would turn me on. I was at the Gas Station over the weekend. There are willing women every two inches, but I didn’t find any of them hot even though, objectively, I’m sure other people would. It’s not the other girl in that threesome fantasy. It’s you.”
And crap. That’s a positive in the risk assessment. The way he says you—as if he really means it, as if I’m currently the only thing he finds hot right now—is so damn tempting.
I flail like a drowning victim for another lifeline.
“Ace says you’re a player and would break my heart.”
15
Matty
“Does he?” That *. I can’t believe he’s breaking the locker room code. Maybe it’s all friendship to Luce, but Ace hasn’t gotten the message. Jack’s not this way with his sister, Ellie, and Hammer’s been trying to pawn off his little sister to any teammate willing, despite the unwritten locker room rule of no sisters, no girlfriends. None of us has taken him up on this. His little sister is f*cking terrifying.
She gives a small, noncommittal shrug as if she’s slightly embarrassed she brought it up, but now that it’s hanging out there, I want to address it. At least I know what some of the things are in her con column.
“I don’t know that I like hookups more or less than any other guy,” I say diplomatically. But what in the hell am I supposed to say? I’ve had my share of hookups, but what college guy hasn’t?
She makes a humming sound, which doesn’t sound like approval or disagreement.
“I mean, I’m not a virgin, and I don’t believe in the whole myth that sex saps your energy.”
She hums again. Christ, could she say a few words? I’m dying here. If I had a collar, I’d be tugging on it. “I make sure everyone has a good time. Remember rule number one?” She nods, another wordless gesture. “You can jump in here anytime.”
Lucy swallows and smiles a perverse little grin. “No, I was enjoying the show.
“You little shit.” I grab her knee and squeeze it through the blankets. She doesn’t even flinch.
She takes another baby sip of her orange juice. “Can I ask you another question? I don’t want you to be offended.”
“Well, we are besties…” I gesture for her to continue.
“Why is it so many of you athletes are such…well, players? Ace showed me that Instagram feed. I agree hookups aren’t a bad thing. I’ve had a few of my own, but that many?”
My first reaction is to growl at the thought she’s had any guy but me, but then I realize how frickin’ hypocritical that is. It never occurred to me that the multitude of times I’ve had my picture taken with a pretty girl would slot me into the risk category.
I scratch my head, trying to think of the most non-offensive way to explain this. Because me saying I just take what’s offered to me on a nonstop basis isn’t going to win points. Not with this girl. Hell, probably not with any girl I wanted to have a relationship with.
And is that what I want? A relationship?
I guess so, because I wouldn’t be chasing after Luce this hard if all I wanted was a lay. I knew where to get that, how it feels to have that non-emotional hookup. Somewhere along the line, maybe after I heard her sigh the second time at the coffee house, I thought I want to be the one to make this girl sigh with happiness, not with frustration. Then she slayed me with her soft eyes and her smile and her hilarious risk assessment ideas.
I need to find the right words to make her understand that I belong in the reward column.
“Football is hard,” I start. “To be a college athlete at this level, football is your number one focus. Sure we say we’re student athletes, but we spend six hours a day doing football crap and two hours doing schoolwork. Our job is on the field. That’s what we’re paid to do. We go to practice, travel to the games, work with the trainers, watch film, and when we’re not doing those things, we have to be lifting, so there’s not enough time to develop a relationship.”
“But they do happen. I mean, Ahmed’s been dating someone his whole time here.”
“Ahmed’s girlfriend is one he had from high school. In fact, most of the girlfriends are pre-college. Or maybe the guy met his girl during his redshirt season where he didn’t travel and wasn’t playing every weekend.”