The Goal (Off-Campus #4)(18)
The dark-haired freshman furrows his brow. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything. We embarrassed ourselves in that game, got our asses kicked, and you still had chicks lining up to suck on your knob. Doesn’t matter if we win or lose—we’re still hockey players. We rule this school, dude.”
“Spoken like a man without ambition,” Garrett says, his lips twitching.
Hollis shrugs. “Hey, not all of us have a hard-on for the pros like you do. Some of us are happy doing this for the pussy.”
A heavy sigh sounds from the end of the long bench spanning our lockers. Colin “Fitzy” Fitzgerald, an enormous junior with scruffy hair and more tats than a biker, saunters over and smacks Hollis on the ass.
“Do you ever not talk about pussy?” Fitzy asks.
“Why would I talk about anything else? Pussy’s great.”
He’s right about that. Unfortunately, I won’t get to experience any great pussy for at least…oh, a month? Two? I’m not sure how long it’ll take my cock to forget about Sabrina James. If I hooked up with anyone else right now, I’d only be comparing her to Sabrina, and that’s not fair to anyone involved.
“Oh hey,” Hollis says suddenly. “Speaking of pussy…”
Garrett rolls his eyes. Hard.
“I’m hitting up Boston this weekend,” Hollis continues. “Crashing at my brother’s place. You guys want to come with? Barhopping, a few clubs, hot girls. It’ll be a good time.”
Our team captain frowns. “We’ve got a game on Saturday.”
Hollis waves a hand. “We’ll be back in time.”
“You’d better be.” Garrett shrugs. “But I can’t go anyway. Got plans with my girl this weekend.” His face takes on a faraway expression, a mixture of wonder and pure bliss, before he saunters off toward the shower area.
I tamp down the envy that rises in my throat. Garrett’s been with Hannah for a year now, and it doesn’t seem like that new love glow is ever going to wear off. He’s so in love with his girlfriend that it’s almost disgusting. Ditto for Logan, who recently got back together with his girlfriend Grace and professed his love for her on the radio.
It feels a bit…wrong, I guess, that the two biggest players I know have settled down. Out of all of us, I’m the guy who’s into all that commitment stuff. When I first came to Briar, I figured I’d meet the woman of my dreams—the one—during freshman orientation, date her for the next four years, and propose after graduation. But it didn’t turn out that way at all. I’ve dated lots of girls, slept with a lot of them too, but none of them were the one.
Meanwhile, Garrett and Logan found their ones when they weren’t even looking for them, those lucky bastards.
“Tuck?” Hollis encourages. “Boston? Dude weekend? You in?”
My first inclination is to say no, but my mind trips over the word Boston. I know Sabrina said she didn’t want to see me again, but…would she really tell me to get lost if we happened to run into each other in the city? I mean, she lives there, and I happen to know her address, so…who knows, right? Maybe a stellar Yelp review will take the guys and me to some amazing bar in her neighborhood. Maybe we’ll bump into each other. Maybe—
Maybe you’re turning into a stalker?
I stifle a sigh. Fine, my mind’s definitely treading into Stranger Danger! territory. But even knowing that, I can’t stop myself from saying, “Sure, I’m in. Wouldn’t mind catching a Bruins game at a sports bar or something.”
“Me too,” Fitzy decides. “I want to pop into this gaming store downtown. They’ve got a role-playing game there that I can’t find anywhere online. I’ll have to suck it up and spend some actual money.”
Hollis’ horrified gaze travels from me to Fitz. “A Bruins game? A gaming store? How am I friends with you two?”
I arch a brow. “You’d rather we bail?”
“No.” He heaves a sigh. “But at least try to pretend you’re in it for the pussy.”
I snicker and pat him on the shoulder. “If that makes you feel better, then sure. Fitzy and I are—”
I look at Fitz, prompting him with my hand.
“—in it for the pussy,” we finish in unison.
7
Sabrina
I’m dragging by the time I arrive home from Briar.
I can’t decide what I hate more—the weekends, when I’m at the club until two or three in the morning and then have to sort mail and packages from four until eleven. Or the weekdays, when I either have classes in the morning and the post office afterward? or an ungodly early post office shift followed by classes. Today was the latter, so I’m dead-ass tired as I drop my backpack on the hall floor.
Even if I wanted to be with Tucker again (and most of my body parts are in favor of a reunion) I’m too exhausted to do anything but lie on my back.
Although…that wouldn’t be half bad, either. He could rub me down? fuck me slow, and I could just lie back and enjoy it.
I give myself a mental head slap. Tucker and his big wang is the last thing that should be on my mind.
In the kitchen, Nana is stirring a pot at the stove, dressed in tight jeans, a lycra top that’s losing its elasticity, and her ever-present fluffy pink slippers.