Page 84 of Cruel Prep (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 1)

What if I’m entirely whipped by Lily’s pussy and becoming soft?

That last thought almost scares me worst of all.

“Would you pull your head out of your ass, Foster?” Caleb shouts in the huddle. “You’re sucking ass out there. Keep fucking up and Coach will pull you, and even with your head in your rectum, you’re better than the backup. So, get it together.”

I flip him off, but I know he’s right. I can’t focus on the game.

There weren’t even any defenders around me during the last play, but I still missed the catch because I was too busy scanning the crowd for Lily’s blonde ponytail.

Where is she?

We are in the lead by three points thanks to a field goal by Noah, but Coach wants blood. I can deliver. I just need to focus up.

Caleb calls out the next play and we break the huddle. I jog over to my position.

Caleb calls out, “Ready, set… hike!”

Boom. Action time.

I put my head down and sprint hard. I shed the defender with a quick fake towards the inside, and then shoot down the field.

The play calls for a post route, but before I cut in, I glance up towards the stands again. It’s a compulsion. Something I can’t seem to control.

I know I won’t be able to see anything with my helmet on and the lights glaring in my eyes, but it doesn’t matter.

I look anyway.

It’s a mistake.

I’m a step behind and a second slow. I make my cut—too late. Way too late.

Thirty yards behind me, Caleb launches a pass. It’s perfect.

Or at least, it would be—if I was where I’m supposed to be.

But I’m not. Lily has me fucked up. Far off my game.

Once again, there is no one around me. And once again, I’m not going to be able to catch the ball.

I stretch my hands out, hoping for a miracle.

But the ball hits the ground a few yards ahead of me and bounces to my feet.

The crowd boos.

* * *

“Where in the fuck were you out there?” my father snarls at me the moment I step off the field. “What the hell was that shitshow?”

I shrug and try to move past him to the locker room, but he grabs my arm and pulls me out of the line of my teammates.

He has more to say, but I don’t bother listening. Even after that disastrous performance, I can’t stop doing what caused it in the first place: looking for Lily. Glancing over his shoulder, searching the crowd for that telltale blond ponytail…

She never shows.

“What’s going on up here?” my dad asks, tapping my temple with his finger and forcing me to look at him again. “Am I asking too much of you? Is this more than you can handle? Because football is pretty simple, Finn. If you can’t handle this, how can I trust you to take care of anything else?”

I grit my teeth. “I had an off night.”

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