Jock Reign (Jock Hard 5)

Remind me of most of the blokes I grew up and was raised with.

Eaton chums have much in common with these American fraternity lads.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask as soon as we’re back in the thick of things.

“I don’t think so,” she says. “I should definitely go find my roommates. I feel like we were in that bathroom for hours.”

I look down at my watch and check the time. “Actually, you’d be surprised to know we were only in there for eight minutes or so.”

“Eight minutes? That’s oddly specific. How do you know—were you keeping time?” There’s a laugh at the end of her question. “Did you start a stopwatch when you ducked inside with me?”

If only I were that clever. “Not technically, though I did look at my watch while we were standing in line. Needed something to do.” Check it again just now.

Eliza’s eyes are scanning the crowd, still in search of her roommates. From my vantage point—which is far better than hers considering I’m that much taller—I haven’t spied them, either. Odd given that Kaylee is somewhat obsessed with me, not to brag.

And so what if I have no idea what the other roommate, Lilly, looks like, having never met her.

“Want me to help you find your mates? We can divide and conquer.”

“No, I can do it alone, thank you. I think for now it’s best if we go our separate ways.” She runs her palms down her jeans and I wonder if they’re sweaty but don’t get the chance to ask—Eliza turns her back and, without a glance, disappears in the crowd.

Twelve

Eliza

Jack kissed me.

Jack kissed me.

Jack.

Kissed.

Me.

Or did he?

It may have been me who stood on my tiptoes and rose up to press my lips against his first. It may have been me who tilted my chin up and presented him with my mouth as a form of encouragement.

It may have been…

It was.

When I close my eyes after climbing into bed, willing myself to fall asleep—sleep that doesn’t come for hours—all I can see is Jack’s earnest face. All I can hear are his words:

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and I’m not sure what that means. Actually I know exactly what that means. I’m just wondering if you’ve been able to stop thinking about me.”

I will never forget the look on his face as he spoke those words. Not next week. Not one year from now. Not when I’m an old lady, married to someone else with a passel of kids.

Not ever.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…

I toss and turn to the echo of those words. Stare up at my ceiling and see them written on my walls. Dream about the expression on his face…the curve of his mouth…the timbre of his voice…

Of course, it doesn’t help that as soon as we left the party, Kaylee inundated me with questions about him. Again. As usual. Pumping me for information I no longer want to give.

And when I pressed her about her whereabouts? Turns out, she was making out with a pledge on the back porch. “I couldn’t help myself, I was drunk—and Jack disappeared and what was I supposed to do? He won’t answer my texts.”

All the way home she pouted.

My stomach dropped. “You made out with someone else?”

“It didn’t mean anything. I do it all the time, no big deal.” I doubt she remembers that little nugget of information after slurring as I guided her along the street.

Should have taken a car, but we didn’t have far to go.

“If you like Jack so much, how could you be making out with someone else?”

“He was blond.”

“Uh…” I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Have you ever seen a hot blond guy? I haven’t, so…” Her shrug said, What choice did I have?

All that is keeping me awake, too.

What does it mean that she was kissing other people? Does it mean she’s going to forget and give up her designs on Jack Dryden-Jones?

Or was she merely killing time until he gives her the kind of attention she wants and deserves?

And speaking of Things She Deserves: I don’t think anyone has said to her, If a guy isn’t making an effort to be with you or spend time with you…if he’s not texting you or FaceTiming you…if he isn’t taking you out…

He is not interested in you. He doesn’t deserve you.

Girls like my roommate don’t want to hear things like that, and they certainly don’t take advice from girls like me—perpetually single girls who haven’t had a boyfriend or dated in years.

And so, I can’t sleep.

And so, in the morning, I need an IV drip of caffeine.

I find the most secluded spot I can in my cherished coffee shop, out of the way where I won’t be a bother to anyone. I position myself with my back to the room so I can gaze out the window and get lost in my thoughts while I’m here.