“She’s not the fucking kind,” I say.
“Ugly?” James asks.
“No. She’s actually hot.”
“Then what?”
“She’s got a vicious streak. For some reason, she hates us all and has been pranking us nonstop since she moved in.”
“Pranking you?” Dornan is still only wearing a towel, and he puts his hands behind his head, stretching out his shoulders and arching his back. I guess he must feel as wrecked as I do.
“Yeah. Fucked-up things like putting fish in our closets and tampering with food. She hit my dad’s credit card last night for a load of food and alcohol. He’s going to rage when he finds out.”
Across the locker room, I can hear Coach roasting one of my teammates who was late for training. He really does have a hard-on for conflict today.
“Sounds like she wants to fuck you,” Dornan says. “You know the whole thing with pulling pigtails in the schoolyard? Well, this is the adult female version.”
“Putting fish in my closet does not mean she wants to fuck me.” I tug my gray shirt over my head and flop onto the bench to pull on my shorts. My first instinct is denial, but could Dornan have a point? I look over at his goofy grin and big body. The guy is only in college because he’s a machine on the field. He’s a nice guy, but he doesn’t have many brain cells functioning outside of football.
“Trust me,” Dornan continues. “She’s got the hots for you or one of your brothers. She’s pushing buttons, hoping one of you will grab her hair and take her on the kitchen counter.”
“This isn’t a movie, you know. Enemies-to-lovers romance is only a thing in books and films. In real life, when people hate each other, it never turns into anything other than more hate.”
“Not true,” Sam says, joining the conversation as he towel-dries his nut sack. Jesus, these guys really don’t have social skills. “My girl used to think I was just a dumb jock. I used to ask her out, and she’d act like it was a fucking insult. Then, some shit went down in a bar across town, and I stepped in to make sure she was okay. The rest is history.”
“That’s a fucking sweet story,” I say. “You should sell it to Mills and Boon.”
Dornan laughs like I’m delivering top-class comedy, and I wait until he’s settled down before continuing. “But there is no way this girl wants to fuck us, and even if she did, I’d worry she’d stuff razors in her pussy just to have the last laugh.”
All around the locker room, guys grab their junk and wince. “Don’t even talk about that man,” Brett says. “You shouldn’t even joke about that kind of thing.”
“She sounds fucked up,” James muses, tossing his training bag onto his shoulder.
“I think she’s just pissed at some shit from the past,” I say. “Maybe she has a point.”
“See, told you.” Dornan grins. “You want to fuck this girl, and she wants to fuck you. I bet you ten bucks that she’ll be sitting on your cock within the month.”
“You’re on,” I say, offering my hand to seal the deal. Dornan shakes it, pumping hard like he’s trying to impress a suit at an interview.
I glance across to where Tobias has been changing quietly. He’s been in a funky mood for a couple of days. It's basically been since he fucked a girl on Cora’s bed because Danny wanted him to. The whole situation was messed up, but it’s not like Tobias to be regretful about sex.
Or maybe he’s not regretful about the sex but about Cora walking in on it. He’s never been one to enjoy conflict. We’re the closest in age, but he never fought with me when we were little kids.
“Tobe, you ready?” I ask.
He frowns, dragging his bag off the bench. “You shouldn’t talk shit about Cora in here,” he says. “You know what these guys are like.”
“What? She doesn’t go here. What does it matter?”
Tobias’s jaw ticks, and he looks furtively around the men behind me, leaning in closer. “It matters because these douchebags are always around our house. We don’t need to be adding fuel to the fire.”
“I’m not adding fuel, Tobe. Just shooting the breeze.”
“And taking bets about whether you’ll fuck Cora or not?” He tips his head to one side, studying me with eyes that remind me of Mom.
“I’m not betting that I’m going to fuck her.” I shrug as we start toward the door. “See you douchebags on the flipside,” I call out.
My teammates raise their middle fingers in a salute.
“Do you know what happened with her family?” Tobias asks me as we emerge into the afternoon sun. The parking lot is half empty now, and a welcome cool breeze ruffles my still-wet hair.
“Not really. Just that our dad and her dad had some business conflict.”