Too Sweet (Hayes Brothers #3)(31)

The football players howl, sauntering down the corridor, sleazy eyes jumping between me and the wall of pictures.

I can’t unglue myself from the spot.

I can’t utter a single word, and I can’t peel my gaze away.

Brandon stops beside me, draping one arm over my shoulders. “Nice rack, kitten.”

“It’s not me,” I whisper, tugging my rings. “They aren’t real.”

“Your tits aren’t real?” he cackles, pulling me in.

“What did Jake always say?” Jessie Longman, Jake’s best friend yells, exiting the auditorium. He elbows his way to the exhibition, snatching a picture of the woman sucking someone’s dick. “Blow Job Lips. Fucking perfect!”

“What’s this gathe—” Mr. Finch halts beside me, glaring at the wall, his face redder than Santa’s hat.

“Those aren’t real,” I mutter again, pressing my hand to my lips, feeling sick and dizzy.

“Calm down, kitten. Nothing to be embarrassed about. You’ve got the sexiest body I’ve ever seen.”

“Mia!” Cody booms somewhere close by.

Within seconds, he’s right next to me, shoving Brandon away, and Colt’s there, blocking my line of sight. In a confused daze, my legs move on their own accord as they usher me out and across the parking lot.

“Are you okay, Bug? Do you need to puke?” Conor jogs up, opening the back door to Cody’s Mustang.

“What happened to your face?” I ask, pointing at a trickle of blood from his split lip.

“I couldn’t hit Blair. She’s a girl, but I could and did hit Brandon.” He beams, demonstrating the right hook he sent Brandon’s way. “Felt good.”

“Please don’t do that. It’s pointless. He won’t give up, and all you’re doing is proving Nico right. I’m trouble, and—”

“You’re trouble? You did nothing wrong,” Cody growls, securing my seatbelt. “It’s them that need to grow the fuck up. And Nico’s an idiot. Who cares what he thinks?!”

“I do,” I mumble, hiding my face in my hands. “Ugh, this is why he doesn’t like college girls, isn’t it? All that drama... I can’t even blame him. I mean, this is ridiculous!”

“Um... Mia?” Conor summons my attention, turning around. Confusion flickers across his face as he stares from the passenger seat, his eyebrows pulled together, barely visible under the curls kissing his forehead. “Are you...” He shakes his head softly, dismissing that, and tries again. “Do you like Nico? Like, like like him?”

“Like like like him?” Colt repeats, hopping in beside me. “You should go back to high school, bro. And you only now realized she likes him?”

“I don’t like like him,” I blurt out, a whole level too defensive. “I mean, he’s nice and caring and hot—” I slap a hand over my mouth, then hide behind a veil of hair, my skin warming under the blush spreading like a flame over my cheeks. I’m sure the triplets need no more. “Ugh, okay, fine. I do like him. I’m sorry...”

Cody forces a short, pained chuckle, readjusting the rearview mirror. “Hot, huh? I’ll give you that, but nice? Come on! That’s overkill. We’re nice, Mia. Don’t let his looks fool you. Nico’s not an easy guy to deal with. He’s a short-tempered, arrogant, foul-mouthed control freak, and you can’t stand up for yourself. He’d swallow you whole.”

“He’s not that bad,” I mutter, glancing between Conor and Colt only to find the former digging through my bag for snacks and the latter glaring at Cody. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Colt says, marshaling his expression into what I think he believes is relaxed but looks more like he’s trying to smile while chewing a lemon. “All good. How about we take you out for coffee and ice cream?”

I lean to the side, nuzzling my cheek against him. “Sounds nice.”

◆◆◆

“Ah, just who I wanted to see.” Finn Ash, the football team’s cornerback, steps in my way.

Whatever he wants, I don’t have time or energy to deal with another football player who’s undoubtedly here to do me a favor. Considering the plan Justin mentioned without divulging information, it’s safe to assume Finn’s in on it, too.

I’m almost jogging down the corridor toward the recording studio where Six is waiting, overly excited about a track he’s working on. He called while I was having lunch with the triplets and asked if I could write the lyrics.

Reluctantly, I stop, adjusting the strap of my bag to grip it so I can use it as a weapon if need be. It’s not every day I’m approached by someone from the football team, if not counting the quarterback himself.

I glance around, checking if there’s anyone else nearby, but no. We’re alone. The thought makes my heart beat a little faster.

“Why did you want to see me?” I ask, inconspicuously unzipping my bag to easily access the pepper spray.

“What are you doing tonight? Wanna grab dinner?”

My eyes widen, and my mind reels. I check the corridor again before a light bulb lights up over my head. “Those pictures weren’t real, Finn. It wasn’t me. My face was photoshopped in.”

“I know. I’m doing graphic design, and that was a lousy job. I’m not asking you out because of the pictures.”