I groan and rub my hand over my face.
A commotion out in the hall catches my attention. When I open my door, Cohen’s standing there with a giant smile on his face.
“No. No more challenges. That last one was a close call.” I go to shut the door in his face when he grabs my arm and pulls me into the hall.
“Your new captain!” Cohen yells and holds up my hand.
New what?
The rest of the team and the campers cheer.
They fill the hallway in excited chatter, but I’m still so confused.
I glance around, looking for Jacobs to explain, but he’s not here. I even glance behind me to make sure they’re talking to the right person.
“Say, what now?” I ask.
“You did it!” Cohen shows me the photo of me trashing the bronze catamount.
“Wait, how did you …”
“Jacobs sent it last night after you both ditched coming to the bar.”
“Oh.” He sent it? Why? It’s not like I got to finish the job.
“Celebratory party!” Cohen yells.
Just as he announces that, the elevator doors open down the hall and in comes Rossi and Jacobs with a keg.
“In the dorms?” Do they want campus security reporting us?
I shake that thought free. Holy fuck, I’ve been spending too much time with Jacobs.
Clearly.
Everyone’s staring at me, expecting the Beck they always see.
So, I plaster on my cocky smile. “Keg stand anyone?”
“Captain first!” Cohen hoots.
Shit.
Because my dorm room is at the end of the hall and Cohen’s is opposite mine, we set the keg up in his room. We have two of the campers next to us, so they open their rooms too so the whole team can fit.
Jacobs goes into one of the other rooms, while the guys tap the keg.
Once it’s all ready, two of the guys help lift me and I drink my weight in beer.
When my feet hit the ground, I wait for the room to stop spinning before trying to slip away from the crowd. I’m still confused as fuck.
I want to get to Jacobs and ask him what the hell he was thinking. He handed me the job for no reason.
And as much as I want to be captain, I don’t want him to be able to shout technical foul once I get it.
Okay, and maybe, just maybe, part of me hopes he did it as some sort of gesture that things are changing between us. Like we could be friends. Or … more—
I shake my head. Not more than friends.
That would be ridiculous.
We’re both straight.
But that kiss …
I check the other open rooms, but Jacobs has disappeared.
Someone passes me a red Solo cup full of something—I have no idea what—and I drink it down without much thought.
I go back into Cohen’s room to find one of the campers doing a keg stand.
Nope. Not dealing with that.
Cohen grins. “Hey, Captain.”
Oh, shit. Why in the fuck did I think I was responsible enough to control a twenty-five-man roster of immature testosterone-filled hockey players?
More importantly, why did Jacobs hand it to me when he didn’t have to?
“I … I’ll be right back.” I stumble toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Cohen asks.
“Uh, the female swim team are here for the summer. I’m gonna go to their dorms and drop some invites.”
Yeah, that’s so not where I’m going. I ignore their excitement over the thought of girls arriving and head down one level to Jacobs’s room.
The sliver of light coming from under the door lets me know he’s in there, but when I knock, he doesn’t answer.
“I know you’re in there, Topher,” I taunt.
“Go back to your party … Captain.” His voice is adorably small and muffled.
“Open up, jackass.” I pound on the door harder.
He finally opens the door and scowls. “What?”
“Me what? I think I should be asking you that.” I push my way inside, and he doesn’t stop me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I spin. “Bullshit. Why’d you give me the win?”
He folds his arms. “I didn’t. You did the challenge. You win.”
“But we both know you deserve to be captain more than me.”
His eyes flash with surprise, but it’s covered quickly.
“Like right now, they’re all upstairs getting drunk. Giving the underage guys beer. And all I can think is, holy shit, if I’m captain, it’s my job to stop this. Not participate in it.”
Jacobs tries not to laugh. “What, you think you were going to get a shiny C on your jersey and that’s the job done?”
Yes! “Well, no. Not exactly. This isn’t the point.”
“What is the point? Why are you even down here?”
Why am I really down here? My gaze roams over him, from his wide chest to that damn single vein running down his impressive arm.
I shake it off and step closer. “You know why I’m down here.” To call him out. That’s why. Nothing else.
Jacobs’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t budge. “I really don’t.”