Page 25 of Enticing the Enforcer
Reese narrows his eyes, studying me like he’s waiting for me to crack. “So you’re telling me that you have a chance to hit that you’d pass because she’s ‘just a person.’”
“Shelby and the girls seem to like her. I’m not going to fuck things up for them.”
That answer appeases him, slightly. He still looks skeptical when he turns off the light, shrouding the room in the dark. I close my eyes and bask in it: the win, the rush, but most of all the kiss that comes flashing back to me, the way the curve of her hips felt in my hands–
“You were gone for a while tonight while the rest of us were watching clips from the games.”
“Seriously?” I say, rolling to my side and punching my pillow. “You’re still on about this?”
“Yep,” he presses from the bed next to mine. “Bothof you were missing. You hit on her didn’t you?”
Heat flickers in my chest, sharp and guilty, but the lie comes easy. “Nope.”
“Come on.”
Reese is my best friend. It’s no surprise he doesn’t buy it. I wouldn’t.
“I didn’t hit on her,” I say smoothly, sliding lower into the bed. “I called my mom to let her know how the game went. You know how she is with the time difference. Figured I’d check in before she started calling us at 2 AM.”
That earns a laugh, because it’s happened more than once. Even so, it’s obvious he’s not sure. “Calling your mom, huh?”
“I swear on the trophy.” I hold up a hand in the dark. “Didn’t see or talk to her outside of everyone else. Chill.”
“You really want me to believe, that you, Jefferson Parks, Wittmore’s biggest fuckboy, is in your dream girl's house, she’sright there, and you don’t take a shot?”
“I know, it’s embarrassing,” I admit, because itishumiliating. Jefferson Parks, Wittmore’s biggest fuckboy, is disappointed in himself. I was in her house and had her alone. Her bed wasright there, and I didn’t seal the deal. Sure, I got akiss, but that’s not what Reese is after. My status as the campus playboy is in jeopardy. “It’s like getting called up to the pros and sitting the whole game on the bench.”
“Shit, man, that sucks...” Reese goes quiet for a beat before I hear him roll over, adding with the slightest laugh, “but I guess that explains why you needed a second shower.”
9
Ingrid
The girlsall crashed in my apartment that night–Twyler, Nadia, and Shelby sprawled across my ridiculous overstuffed couches and on the floor with blankets, while Madison slipped away to her own quarters like the responsible one she is. I love her, but she doesn’t do sleepovers and giggling in pajamas.
We stay up long after the guys head back to the hotel, Reese not allowing anyone to miss curfew. They have what they call ‘morning skate’ and then their final game in the evening. It sounds like a packed day, but I can’t talk, I’m usually up before dawn, already at work when the sun rises.
When everyone gets comfortable, I ask the question that’s been burning at me.
“So…how did you guys actually meet your boyfriends?”
“You going to put this in one of your songs?” Shelby asks, more wishful than concerned.
“Maybe,” I grin. “Honestly, I’m just curious. You guys all seem so happy.”
Twyler snorts. “None of it came easy,” she says. “Those guys were a mess when we got to them.”
“Reese was hardly a mess,” Nadia challenges. “Captain of the hockey team. Surely a first round pick for the NFL.”
“Fucking anything that moved,” Twyler adds, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t seem mad about it, or even insecure. “I didn’t even like him at first and he didn’t like me, he told the whole team that he thought of me as a little sister.”
I grimace. “Ouch.”
“Then one day I’m in line at the campus coffee shop, getting my caffeine hit, the next thing I know, he’s kissing me.”
“What?” I ask, trying to follow. “He just assaulted you in the coffee shop?”
“Entitlement runs thick with these men,” Nadia chims in. “He was trying to get his ex off his back and he thought sticking his tongue down Twyler’s throat was the way to do it.”
