Page 79 of Troublemaker
As my mind raced through lies and I dismissed each one, Trey grew more and more frustrated.
“With all due respect, fuck this,” he said, turning toward the door.
As he put his hand on the doorknob, I stopped him, settling for a half-truth.
“When Lucy walked out of the arena that night, she stole my car, drove to a random bar off of Route 13, and was attacked by two men there. I went to get her and took her to the hospital, and I’ve been with her ever since. I was only looking out for her. She may be eighteen, but I still feel responsible for her.”
The bullshit I was sharing tasted sour on my lips. Taking care of Lucy wasn’t a responsibility I didn’t want, it was an honor Irelished. Lying felt cowardly, and as I continued, I felt more and more pathetic.
Trey paused, turning, his face aghast with concern. “Holy shit. Is she okay? Why didn’t you respond to my texts and tell me?”
“She didn’t want anyone to know.” That was likely, and I was going to have to ask Lucy to forgive me.
“Okay.” Trey relaxed. I could see it in the way his tight, stiff shoulders loosened, no longer up around his neck. “Well, let’s get to work reviewing this game tape and then we can meet the team at practice. Oh, and my sister was asking about you.”
I don’t want anything to do with your fucking sister. She doesn’t hold a goddamned candle tomywoman.
But I couldn’t say that, or Trey would take offense. Instead I hummed in my throat, found the remote for the big flat screen the university had bought for us, and hit play.
A couple hours later,we stood and stretched, having talked through our notes and feedback for the team based on what we’d seen on the game tape. I checked my watch.
“Emory’s still off his game,” I observed.
“Yeah. Like I said, he’s having woman trouble. I’ll talk to him,” Trey said.
Was the woman trouble related to Lucy? If so, I was going to have to nip that shit in the bud.
“I’ll talk to him,” I said.
Trey raised his eyebrow. “You sure?”
I nodded, cracking my knuckles, picturing beating the shit out of Emory if Lucy’s name came out of his mouth. “I’m sure.”
“All right. We need to head to practice,” Trey said, and I agreed.
I was tense on the walk from the film study room down the long hallway to the rink. This was going to be the first time I’d seen Lucy since this morning, and it felt way too fucking long.
Was I going to be able to keep my shit together when she inevitably showed up in a tiny, tight outfit and no bra, knowing my players were ogling every part of her? That Emory was going to see her? Would I be able to stop myself from getting hard remembering what those tits looked like without clothes on, that perfect deep pink pussy, raw and swollen from the number of times I’d made her come with the vibrator?
As we walked, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent off a terse text to Lucy.
Are you still in your dorm?
She responded immediately.
no, im on my way to practice
why?
Turn that hot little ass around and go put on a bra if you aren’t already wearing one.
why?
Why? She was fucking playing with fire, and she knew it.
Because if you aren’t wearing one, I’m going to have to rip out the eyeballs of every other human in the vicinity, and I’d rather not go to jail before the game this weekend.
Instead of responding in the affirmative like a good girl, she sent me a series of kissy lip emojis like the troublemaker she was.
