Jockblocked: A Novel (Gridiron Book 2)(9)

“What’re you thinking about now?” Sutton asks.

I give myself a little shake. I really need to stop dwelling on this guy no matter how blue— Oh, god. I turn back to my roommates.

“Some guy hit on me at the Brew House,” I say slowly as the puzzle pieces click together. Blue eyes. Jet black hair. Muscles so nice they’d get a nun excited.

“Jon Cryer or Charlie Sheen?” Sutton is a film major.

I make a face. “How about neither?”

“Okay, pick your own look-a-like actor.”

“How about, instead of an actor, I pick Western State football player. I didn’t recognize him last night without the eye black and helmet. Plus, he was wearing glasses.”

Sutton hoots. “He Clark Kented you!”

Jingle. Jingle. Charity waves her hand at Sutton to get her to stop laughing. “Seriously, Matt Iverson hit on you last night? What’d you say? Are you going out with him?”

Sutton jumps in. “I know exactly what she said. He’s not my type.” She turns to me. “Am I right?”

I shrug. “So I have a type. Sue me. I don’t think liking a certain flavor of unsweetened yogurt is a bad thing.”

“Sure, if you’re eating yogurt,” Charity cries in dismay. “But this is prime, Grade A manflesh.”

“We need to hold an intervention.” Sutton sighs. “What was the excuse you gave?”

I make a face at Sutton who, in turn, sticks out her tongue at me. Fine, I did give him an excuse. “I was working on my mock trial stuff. Plus, he seems like he’d take a lot of effort. Doesn’t matter now. Ace and I have the pact. No football players for me.”

“There are eighty guys on that team. Who cares what Ace thinks?” Charity’s long hoop earrings swing as she bobs her head in indignation.

“Agreed. Besides, Ace just made that stupid pact up so he can keep you to himself.”

I reach into the cupboard so Sutton doesn’t see me roll my eyes. I’ve heard her theory before about Ace’s crush on me. Sounds like she’s still clinging to it despite the number of times Ace has been in this very apartment talking about the girls he’s been banging.

Charity is beside herself with disappointment. “Other than your extracurricular activities, sixteen hours of school, and twenty hours of work, surely you could make time for someone who looks like that. I’d bang him so hard.”

“Then you call him. Here’s his number.” I stomp over to my bag, pull out the paper he scrawled his digits on and shove it toward her.

“He gave you his number?” Sutton says in disbelief.

“Yup.”

“I give up on you.” She turns around and folds her arms across her chest in disgust.

“You’re the one who said good-looking guys are probably bad in bed,” I remind her, ignoring that inner crone voice yelling, Liar! “Besides, most of the single football players go through women like tissues. Look at Ace.” I’m gratified when both of my roommates give reluctant nods of understanding. “Matt just gives off this vibe of someone whose default toward women is always ‘on.’ He’d probably flirt with a tree if he knew it was female.”

“You know this how?” Sutton challenges.

“He hit on me. At the Brew House.”

“You say that like the Brew House is a nun’s sanctuary. I know for a fact that you and Keith hooked up there.”

“First, we did not hook up there. We work there. And because we work together and spent so much time together, it was natural that we would sleep together. But do I have to remind you how boring it was? How I nearly fell asleep one time when we were having sex? If that’s not a reason to stay away from men turned on by the smell of coffee, I don’t know what is.”

Charity makes a face. “I suppose. Still, I think Matt Iverson would be worth at least one roll in the hay. You could do it for me. For womankind. You could test out the theory whether really good-looking guys actually know how to satisfy a woman. Report back as to whether he’s a dud or a stud.”

Stud. Matt Iverson’s hot body looks like he could take some abuse. I keep that thought to myself lest Charity launch herself at me in frustration.

“Oh sure, let me go and sacrifice my night for you.” She sticks out her tongue at me. “How about this,” I say placatingly. “I’ll fantasize about him. I’ll probably have a better orgasm by myself, objectifying him, than with him.”

“True,” Charity says glumly. “If he really was good in bed, he’d be the unicorn, and then we’d wonder why he was single. Like, what is so wrong with him that he’s out trolling coffee houses for companionship? He should be able to go to the Gas Station and clap his hands and have a dozen babes at his feet.”

“Thank you. My point exactly.” But being right doesn’t make me feel better.





4





Matty




I find myself at the Brew House the next night. When Josie Weeks announced she was forming a study group for our Criminal Practice and Procedure class, I wasn’t interested. When she said they’d meet at the Brew House at seven, I couldn’t get my name on her list fast enough.

I tell myself it’s because I need to study, but the moment I walk in and set eyes on Lucy’s long blond hair, I admit it’s because I want to see her again. Despite her rejection, I’m still hot for her in a way I can’t remember feeling toward another girl.