Page 249 of Bad Pucking Influence

“Should I wear a pair of jeans?”

“You’ll probably still look hot as fuck, but I suppose that’s better than broadcasting your assets,” he grumbles as he reclines against the headboard.

“Help me understand this,” I say as I ditch the sweats and pull on a pair of jeans. “You’ve been speculating about the size of my cock for the better part of a year, yet you’re worried about other people doing that same thing? Why?”

“That cock is mine to ogle, no one else’s.”

“Oh my gosh.” I pause with the pants resting on my hips, still unfastened. “You’re possessive.”

“What? Am not.”

“You totally are.” A giant grin spreads over my face as I cross the room to sit on the bed, right at his hip, and lean in to nip at his chin. “You want me all to yourself.”

“That doesn’t make me possessive.” He tilts his head so I can kiss his neck.

“No? What does it make you?”

“Protective,” he says resolutely. “You wouldn’t believe some of the comments people make. Depending on the angle, people could imply that you’re woefully inadequate or hiding a can of Pringles. I’m saving you from rampant mischaracterization.”

“You know the only opinion that matters is yours, right?” I cup the back of his head and tease my fingers through his hair as I give his earlobe a playful bite. “I don’t care what people say about me or my body.”

“Yes, well a man’s penis is sacred. It shouldn’t be seen by just anyone.”

That statement gives me pause, and I pull back to look him in the eye. “I know you believe that first part, but the second is a little out of character. If you could legally do it, you’d charge admission to let people take a peek at yours. What’s this really about?”

Tripp rolls his eyes with an audible huff. “I wouldn’t do that now. And nothing’s going on.”

“Tripp,” I prod, resting my palm on the back of his neck.

“Ugh, fine. I know what happens on these little road trips.” He makes air quotes to emphasize that last part. “And I’m not a fan.”

Tilting my head to the side I search his face for some clue about what he’s trying to say and come up empty. “I’m not following.”

He exhales a frustrated breath. “You and Luca and the peek-a-boo pregame nonsense.”

Me and… Oh shit! I never told him we ended that.

“Tripp.” I rest my forehead against his. “I told Luca I can’t do that anymore.”

“I… You… When?”

“Weeks ago. He was getting in his head about a bad game and said he couldn’t wait for me to get back so he could get back on track, and I told him we needed to find another option.”

“Why?” It’s barely a whisper.

It’s hard to see with our heads so close together, stillI do my best to lock eyes with him. “Because I didn’t feel right being in that situation with him when I’m with you.”

“We weren’t even together then. We were just—”

“I know.” I sigh, closing my eyes.

“But, aren’t superstitions a big deal? Like it could mess up your season, kind of big deal?”

“Yes.”

“And Luca’s okay with this?” Tripp pulls back to look at me, a wary expression on his face.

“He was nervous at first, but he understood where I was coming from, so he made other arrangements.”

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