Campus Player

I’ll tell you what, this chick is a total pro. She knows how to give a BJ. The polite thing to do would be to carefully back away and disappear down the hall, but I’m unable to do that. My feet are rooted in place. I wish this were a faceless, nameless guy but it’s not.

It’s Justin.

Unfortunately, the look on Sasha’s face now makes perfect sense. She knew he was fooling around with someone else.

The growl that escapes from my boyfriend is enough to have me blinking back to the present. His eyes are squeezed tight and there’s a slight gape to his parted lips. His fingers are tangled in thick hair.

Auburn-colored hair, if I’m not mistaken.

Annica.

Why am I not surprised?

Although this is an all-time low, even for her.

As if realizing she has an audience, Annica cracks open her eyes and locks them on me. Instead of flaring with surprise, embarrassment, or even guilt, a victorious light fills them. As if this is what she wanted all along. For me to find them together. It might be dark and shadowy in the cramped hallway, but the look she sends me is blatant. Much like the shove on the field after the game on Thursday, this was intentional. I’m sure if her mouth wasn’t stuffed full of Justin’s dick, she would be grinning ear-to-ear.

What a bitch.

She really has no shame. I’ve never met a girl like her. And to be clear, I’ve dealt with my fair share of bitchy mean girls throughout the years, but this one takes the cake.

When Annica’s movements become more frenzied, Justin’s fingers tighten on her scalp before he pulls her closer. Even though I don’t give a damn about him, it’s not in my nature to skulk away with my tail tucked between my legs. I want the dark-haired boy to know that he’s been caught with his pants around his ankles.

Literally.

The fact that he chose to cheat on me with one of my own teammates makes him beyond despicable. I fold my arms across my chest and wait for the perfect moment to interrupt.

His face scrunches as he throws his head back, exposing his throat. “Yeah, just like that. I’m gonna—”

“I have to admit, I was expecting a little more in the length department.” I point to his groin. “That’s seriously disappointing.”

His eyelids fly open as he jerks to awareness. His mouth gapes momentarily before he quickly shoves Annica away from him. The younger girl lands on her ass with a grunt.

A thin smile curves my lips as I hold up a hand. “Please don’t stop on my account. I wanted to interrupt for a brief moment to tell you that we’re over.” I glance at the auburn-haired girl who, at one time, I’d considered a friend. “You two are perfectly suited for one another.”

“Demi!” he yells.

I turn away, not bothering to look over my shoulder as I stalk down the hallway. And here I’d thought it was possible to remain friends after our breakup.

Ha!

That’s no longer happening. With any luck, I’ll be able to avoid Justin for the remainder of the year. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for Annica. The level this girl will stoop to in order to hurt me is almost unbelievable. And a little bit scary. I should have listened to Sydney from the beginning.

At some point, my vindictive teammate will have to be dealt with. But it won’t be this evening. Tonight, my plan is to go home and drown myself in a pint of chocolate ice cream. The name of the flavor—death by chocolate—now makes so much more sense.

I snort and continue to push my way to the living room, only wanting to leave this party—and the memories—behind.

9

Rowan

I lift the bottle of beer to my lips and take a swig. It goes down smooth but does nothing to alleviate the discontent that brews beneath the surface. There’s only one person capable of that, and it’s not the sad imitation currently hanging on me.

“We should get out of here.” Her slim hands stroke over my chest as she stares up at me with dark eyes. “We can go back to my place and talk.”

Right. I think we both realize that conversing is not this girl’s end goal. The only thing she wants to better acquaint herself with is my cock.

Why pretend otherwise?

What I’ve come to learn over three years at WU is that most of these girls are a carbon copy of each other. The hair, eyes, and body size might be different, but beneath the exterior features, they’re all the same. They want the notoriety that comes from being with a high-profile athlete on campus. Throw in someone who has a chance of turning pro and making millions, and you got yourself a stage five clinger.

That’s the last thing I want.