Page 12 of Tamed (The Courtside King Duology 1)

He smirked and lowered his voice. “You missed my dick.”

She didn’t deny it. Just grinned and punched his arm above the bicep.

He hissed with a grimace.

Jegs laughed. “You pussy.”

“Fuck you,” he grumbled, pulling his short-sleeve up to glare at the spot. Aka the place where he’d gotten a fresh tattoo last night. “Goddamn it. Whose bright idea was it to get these done again?”

“Dipshit’s.” Aka Charlie. Jegs’ smile faded as he inspected his own. The Patriot’s hot-shot power forward didn’t look pleased about his, either. “That we actually listened to him is a true testament to just how drunk we were.”

Breck scowled at his ink, a big, bold Greek K for Kappa. Jegs’ was the Greek letter for Theta, and Charlie’s, Sigma. “I thought tattoo parlors didn’t service drunks.”

“They don’t,” Charlie answered from his end of the couch. The team’s prized shooting guard looked like royal shit, too. Eyes all bloodshot, light brown hair in disarray. Smirking, he gazed down at his ink job as well. “Lucky for us, one of our new brothers is an aspiring artist.”

Shit. That’s right. It all came back to him now. They’d let a nineteen-year-old, a kid, permanently ink their bodies. His glower slid to the doorway, where said aspiring artist stood eavesdropping.

Breck narrowed his eyes.

The guy smiled and waved.

“Oh, come on. They’re not so bad,” Charlie argued defensively. “I think mine’s cool. A show of solidarity. Our frat letters. That’s deep.” He pressed his fist to his chest. “You, me, and Jegs. Brothers forever.”

“But it’s not our frat,” Breck grated. “Not when we each have only one letter.”

“Right!” Charlie beamed, his blue eyes glinting with delight. “We gotta stand front to back, with our shoulders together, for it to spell out K T S.”

Breck and Jegs stared at him darkly.

Kenzie covered her mouth and laughed.

Charlie’s smile ebbed. He peered back down at his tattoo. “Shit.” He frowned. “Yeah, we look like morons.”

“Ya think?” Breck growled.

Kenzie snicker-giggled.“I think they’re sexy.”

“You know what? I don’t even care.” Jegs waved it off and eyed the big screen. “I just wanna expire in peace while watching Jackie Chan.”

“But we’ve been watching this shit for hours,” Reggie, the team’s center, groused two seats down. “Can’t we watch something else now? For shit’s sake.”

“No! We’re marathoning! And it’s Jackie fucking Chan!” Jegs cut him an exasperated look. “No hating on the Chan!”

Reggie groaned and rolled his eyes, then winced and palmed his forehead. “Fuck. Well, at least turn it down. My head is pounding.”

Jegs muttered something under his breath and brusquely snatched up the remote. “This feels like blasphemy.” The volume inched down. “I’m sorry, Jackie baby. He knows not what he asks.”

Breck’s lips quirked.

Charlie laughed. “If you love the guy so much, keep the torch burning. Pay him homage by following in his footsteps.”

Jegs eyed him. “Huh?”

“Become a badass, too. Go take some classes at that martial arts place.”

Jegs stilled. “There’s a martial arts place around here?”

“Yeah,” Charlie chuckled. “Teaches Jujitsu or some shit. Just around the corner.”

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