Page 68 of The Bro-code

“I’d say it is that simple,” Topher argues. “Find a chick who’s willing to come to the locker room and let you stick your dick in her mouth until you jizz down her throat. It doesn’t matter if she’s good at sucking cock or not, at this point we’re desperate.”

There’s a chorus of approval. They decided this is all my fault.

The only one who looks slightly concerned about me is Cole. “You ok, bro?” He claps me on the shoulder, lowering his voice.

“It’s… I don’t know. I haven’t been feeling right. This whole thing is?—”

Topher overhears even with everyone else talking around us.

“What is it?” he snarls. “Please don’t tell me that all of a sudden you feel guilty about using the bunnies. They like to serve and service us. That’s the entire reason why they hang around the team. Do you need me to clean up your mess and talk to Candace?”

To be honest, I don’t care. Even if the bunnies hadn’t been on strike, I wouldn’t want to go through with it. There’s only one set of lips that’s taken up residence in my head, but I can’t say that. Topher is the last person I could tell how I really feel.

I nod sheepishly.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Frat president to the rescue as always. And the Coach thought I wasn’t captain material. I don’t see anyone else trying to fix this mess. I’ll let you know what Candace says, Jugs. We’ll make sure you get your blowie by our next game and we’ll be back to winning in no time.”

Everyone starts chanting “Knights, Knights, Knights!”

I play along, but in reality I couldn’t care less if Candace calls off the strike or not.

All I want is to play hockey one last year, whether we win or lose. I want one last season before life’s responsibilities come crashing down on me like a ton of bricks.

And Bay’s lips against mine again.

It isn’t much to ask, right?

CHAPTER 13

QUID PRO QUO

BAY

Ithink I should order a mini fridge to put in my room, so I can have cold water whenever I want without going downstairs.

Judging by the chatter that reaches me as I descend the last two steps of the stairs, the entire house seems to have convened in the living room.

Different voices fight over one another, so I bet it’s a fraternity meeting or a team meeting. The two things are almost one and the same, since very few Gamma brothers this year aren’t hockey players.

I wish the guys had let me know they had a house meeting, so I would have gone to study at the library or something. I don’t want to intrude in their fraternity time.

Which actually reminds me that the Zetas have nowhere to meet since our house is condemned and I need to find somewhere where we can have our meetings.

Last year, I would have asked Topher if we could meet at the Gamma house. It would make total sense since we’re affiliated to the Gammas. But there’s no way in hell I’m going to ask Topher anything. Especially not a favor he would probably hold over my head.

I debate if I should give up on my water and run back to my room, but whatever the guys are debating seems to be taking everyone’s full attention. If I walk quietly, I should be able to make it to the kitchen and back up the stairs undetected.

I tiptoe out of the kitchen, bottle of water in hand, preparing to dart away quickly when I have to pass by the living room door. Tucker’s boisterous voice makes me jump almost causing me to drop my bottle and that’s when what they’re saying catches my attention.

They’re arguing about why they lost the first two games of the season.

I’ve always known that they have a few good luck rituals to keep Lady Luck on their side on game night.

For example Topher eats a protein shake with peanut butter and a whole raw egg—yuck—for breakfast every morning on game day. He believes that helps him perform on the ice; to the point that when they have an away game, he asks the restaurant of whatever hotel the team is staying at to make him his shake.

Cole has his lucky stick and spends an inordinate amount of time taping it the day before a game.

From what they’re discussing, their good luck rituals are way more complex than that.

---