“I have to go,” Bex says. “I’ll see you around, friend.” Her mouth curves up slightly when she says the last part.
“Smart ass,” I mouth.
She winks, and then she’s gone.
Bex must be enjoying my slow, painful torture. Women are so hard to read, and Bex is like decrypting an unsolvable cipher.
“Dude, you are so fucked,” Drake says to me when I take my seat at the table.
“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
Chapter Fourteen
Bex
The week blows by in a blur of practices, late night texts from Preston, and tons of homework. Preston was equally busy, with little time to talk. Our schedules are similar, which makes it easier to align our non-date nights. Like tonight.
“Are you sure this dress isn’t too short?” I ask Taylor, who leans over to check out my backside.
“Nope. Your ass looks perfect in this dress. Parker will definitely approve.”
I shake my head, laughing. “I’m sure he will.”
Taylor chose a short, tight bandage dress from her closest, paired with red heels. She even made me wear makeup. I feel so unlike myself in this outfit and layers of eyeshadow and mascara. I’m like Taylor’s very own Barbie doll. She knows I hate picking out clothes, so she offers to do it for me.
My mom was never around to teach me simple things like how to dress. She wasn’t even there when I got my period. I thought my dad was going to have a nervous breakdown when he had to deal with me crying on the bathroom floor, freaked out by womanhood. But we got through all the weird, awkward times. Taylor helped me through the rest.
“This must be the house.” Taylor points at the last house on Greek Row.
A crowd of people pour out from the old Victorian. Much like the house Preston shares with his teammates, it has high pillars, a long, covered porch, and several floors. Except the lawn at the Delta Sigma Phi house is littered with trash. Plastic cups, crushed beer cans, and even a lacy bra are on the lawn.
Interesting.
We walk past a group of drunk girls in short skirts and tight tops, clasping red Solo cups of beer.
“I saw Parker with the twins,” a tall blonde says to her friend, slurring her words. “I couldn’t get anywhere near him.”
My Parker? What twins? Fucking hookers.
I attempt to eavesdrop of their conversation as we stroll down the walkway to the house. My mind drifts to a thousand different places. I’m a little jealous when I think of Preston with another girl, let alone two of them. Friends shouldn’t be this jealous, even though we’re not technically friends.
I still haven’t given Preston an answer. I’m afraid to plunge head-first into this arrangement and lose myself and my heart in the process. I know from previous experience that hockey players, especially ones as hot as Preston Parker, are bad for me.
Once the line moves, I climb the stairs and come to a halt when I spot Preston on the porch. He leans back against the house, tipping a cup of beer to his mouth. His usual gang of guys surround him, with Jamie on his right. Shannon latches onto Jamie, as if she’s afraid to let him out of her sight.
Preston glances over at me. His entire face illuminates. He looks sexy in dark jeans and a fitted black tee that hugs his muscular frame.
I bite my bottom lip, and he notices. Laughing, he walks toward me. He hooks his arm around my back. I take in the scent of his delicious, manly scent. He’s intoxicating.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t show.”
“I said I would come.”
“Hey, Taylor,” he says, now acknowledging her. “You remember Drake, Trent, Tucker, Jamie, and Shannon.”
Oh, right. Those twins.
How stupid of me to think Preston invited me to a party where he was hooking up with other girls. I almost laugh when I realize my mistake.
At the mention of their names, his friends look over at Preston. They wave at Taylor and me, and we do the same in return.
“They’re with me,” Preston tells a blond-haired boy sitting on a bar stool by the door, taking money from people.
He acknowledges Taylor and me with a nod, and then hands Preston two plastic cups. A silent exchange passes between them.
Drake walks over to us and stands next to Taylor. “You were at The Sixth Floor last week, right?”
Taylor beams. “Yeah. I was in the dance competition with Bex and Shannon.”
“So, ladies, what can I get you?” Preston holds up the cups and Drake takes one of them from his hand.
“They have beer, vodka, rum shooters, and I think there was a little bit of Cuervo left the last time I was in the kitchen,” Drake says, his eyes fixed on Taylor.
“I’ll have a beer,” I tell Preston, who’s holding my cup.
“Same for me,” Taylor chimes.