She shook her head, brushing wisps of hair against my shaft before she stood up. Then she slung the towel over her shoulder and started a lazy walk down the hallway. “I’m going to milk you for every cent, rich kid,” she yelled as she pushed through the stadium doors.

Still releasing heavy pants, the urgent need for Sydney stewed in my veins. I leaned against the wall where she’d just been standing and pressed myself against the cool cement.

I had to get my shit together before entering the locker room. I’d wanted her for so long, and I was literally inches away. I wasn’t sure how much more of her teasing I could handle.

At the end of the hall, the door swung open, and I spotted Coach’s silhouette. “What the hell are you doing, Peters? It’s gotten so bad you’re messing around with walls? I saw that girl leaving. You better be focused on the game Saturday.”

“Yes, sir,” I yelled, straightening my body. Covering my junk, I ran back into the locker room and welcomed the silence. I was the only one left, so I took another shower and relieved myself, thinking about Sydney’s ass and her plump soft lips. Lips I had to taste tonight, even if that’s all we did. I would get on those lips. They’d haunted me for years, and I’d never found their equal.

Chapter Thirty-One

 

 

W hat the hell was I thinking?

I wasn’t thinking. My body was reacting.

The second I saw Peters in that towel, I was wet. An agonizing ache built between my legs. For Gray Peters. My brain was screaming at me to not trust him, but every nerve tingled when I felt those ridiculous muscles on his chest.

And why shouldn’t I trust him? Really, it was Peters who shouldn’t trust me.

I’d been the one gossiping over the airwaves. Dragging his character through the mud. And based on what? Something I’d heard half awake through a closed dorm door two years ago?

A coward. I was a coward back then. Unable to face the embarrassment. I should have thrown that door open and yelled in his face. At least then I’d know for sure it was him. That’s what today’s Sydney would have done. No, she would have done worse.

As I headed back to my dorm, I received a 9-1-1 text from Jack. He wanted me to meet him at the athletic dorm. Either Jack needed help or he’d found out about Sunday Lane. I always thought Jack was capable of murder. We were related after all, and the Brown-eyed Virgin might push him to his breaking point.

“I can’t get through to her, Syd.”

I sat on Jack’s bed. The setup was eerily close to Peters’s room freshman year. Same bulky twin mattress. Same octagonal seventies-era window. Same beefcake athletes parading the halls, wearing next to nothing (didn’t mind that so much).

“She’s not talking to me anymore, but she sends me notes. You know, stuffs them under my door.” Jack stopped pacing and pointed at the gap between the door and the floor. “I was sitting on the bed earlier this week when a pink envelope arrived. When I jerked the door open, I saw a tall blonde wearing all black booking down the hallway. She dove into the snack machines alcove, and when I ran out there, she’d opened the window and climbed down the fire escape like a cat burglar.”

I lay back on Jack’s bed, stared up at the ceiling, and laughed. The idea of a swift-footed, black-clad Allison was blowing my mind.

“It’s not funny, Syd.”

“How do you know it was Allison? It sounds like someone on the Romanian gymnastics team.”

“The letter said, I’m sorry, Jack. Miss your sweet face. Love, Your Ranch dressing-addicted Norwegian Princess. And there was a chocolate kiss inside.”

Those fools, but they were fools in love. Speaking of “extreme like,” which was the stage I was at with Peters, I whipped out my phone and sent him a text to meet me at Jack’s.

What? A girl’s gotta eat, right?

“Syd, she said Katharine’s putting her through hell. She hasn’t said anything to you?”

I shook my head. “She hasn’t stayed at the dorm all week. I just assumed you two were cooped up, procreating.”

“Ewww, Syd. We haven’t done that yet. I want it to be special.” A dreamy grin crossed his face and his cheeks reddened. “I was going to take her to the zoo on our next football bye weekend. She really loves sherbet, so I was going to take her to Ben and Jerry’s. Todd from our team has one of those vans you can sleep in, you know, with the black bubble window. It was going to be romantic.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to abduct a child, Jack. Jesus, the zoo, ice cream, a creepy van.”

He was quiet for a second. “Yeah, when you put it that way… Maybe I’ll think of something else.”

A forceful knock came from the door, and Jack sprang up to open it. Peters stepped in wearing a pair of black lounge pants and a fitted white shirt. Naturally, I closed my legs as he entered, because this was confusing. Peters had gone from the most vile person I’d ever met to a man who reduced me to a quivering pool with one lift of an eyebrow.

Jesus.

Completely disregarding Jack, he focused on me lying across the bed. Eventually, his eyes scanned the dorm room, taking in the familiar setup that led us to one another in the first place.

“Peters?” Jack backed away, shocked by his arrival. When Peters ignored him and stared down at me, Jack grew suspicious. “Syd? What’s going on?”

“Out, Porter,” Peters barked, jerking his head toward the open door.

Both Jack and I stood and started for the door, but he held out a hand to stop me. “Just Jack Porter.”

The look on his face was a tossup between lust and anger. I didn’t know which one I preferred. Maybe my locker room visit was too much for him.

I dug into my bag and handed Jack some money. “Jack, would you mind getting me a drink from the machines?”

Jack grabbed the money and stood there like the wind had just been knocked out of him.

“Go,” Peters said, pointing a finger at the door.

Shooting me a quick glance, Jack sighed but ran down the hall as ordered.

Peters slammed the door shut and began pacing the room. From time to time, he’d mumble something and look over at me, then continue to pace, involved in some kind of internal argument.

“What’s up, Peters? You’re starting to freak me out.”

“I’m freaking you out?” He stopped in front of me with a glare on his face.

Ding, ding, ding, it was anger.

“My life was just fine, Sydney. It was all going according to plan. College… NFL… everything was perfect,” he scolded. “I thought I had everything I wanted. Everything.”

“What’s that have to do with m—”

“Quiet,” he snapped. “That wasn’t a question.” Grabbing my hips, he drew me close. “Fuck. What I’m trying to say is I can’t do this anymore. My body’s on fire every day just knowing you’re somewhere on campus. Please tell me you’re not messing with me.” He slid his hand down to my ass, giving it a light squeeze. “Because I need to feel something real… with you.”

Pushing him away, I moved to the opposite corner of the room. “This isn’t going to happen.”

Peters turned in a dramatic circle and slammed a fist on Jack’s desk. It was actually comical, and I worked hard to suppress my laugh but wasn’t successful. Hearing me snicker, Peters turned with a hurt expression on his face.

“I meant not in Jack’s room,” I added.

His shoulders dropped and he smiled. It was my favorite smile. “Then let’s get the fuck out of here, Sydney. You’re driving me crazy.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.

“Wait.” I held my hand up to his chest. “Jack’s upset.”

Peters let out an annoyed growl and slammed down on Jack’s bed. When he looked up with his solemn amber eyes, I understood what he needed. Hell, I wanted it too. I couldn’t believe I’d gone from despising him to envisioning our bodies entwined together in the throes of passion.