What just happened?
TWELVE | NATHAN
There’snothing like winning the first home game of the season to put you in a great fucking mood.
We played phenomenally. It felt good to get back out there with my guys and lead them to a victory. Even Faulkner was happy, and he’s never happy, so we must have played as well as I know we did.
We were all desperate to prove to him, despite the bullshit of the last few weeks, that we all deserve a spot on this team.
Coach and Robbie immediately had us sit around the table, analyzing the game while it was fresh in our heads. That’s the bit I usually hate, especially after a win when I want to celebrate with a beer or ten.
The adrenaline pumping around my body doesn’t want to revisit every pass and score while confined to a room. That’s how the guys felt the moment they took a seat; I could tell by their tapping and shuffling and compliance to every word from Coach’s mouth.
For once, I was perfectly calm.
I don’t get to make mistakes this year; every move must be perfect.
Robbie wanted to wrap things up early, his eyes floating to his smart watch every time it lit up. I knew Sabrina was somewhere in the building, proudly wearing the jersey I sent her.
Sabrina is something else. Bold, confident, and completely shameless. She walked into the locker rooms after Robbie asked her to visit him before the game, and while most of us were changed, she came exceptionally close to seeing JJ’s balls.
Faulkner stopped in his tracks when he came out of a side room and saw her. “You can’t be in here! This is the men’s locker room!”
Sabrina put her acting skills to good use and waved her arms around, frantically shouting back at him in what I later learned was Arabic.
Faulkner assumed she was a lost tourist from Washington or something and escorted her out. Thankfully, JJ’s balls were safely back away by that point.
Afterward, Robbie explained Brin is Brooklyn born and raised, but her parents are Algerian. “Hot as fuck, isn’t it? She’s so smart. I can only just cope with English, and she just effortlessly switches all the time. Sometimes I get her to whisper shit to me in Arabic; she could be saying anything. It all sounds so goddamn good.”
Yeah, not jealous at all.
Post-game nights out have always been the crème de la crème of nights out. We start at a party on frat row, not my favorite place to be, but since half the team isn’t twenty-one and can’t go to a club, it’s nice to have a few drinks together before we part ways for the night.
Then we head to The Honeypot, which is, in my humble opinion, the best club in West Hollywood. B, Summer’s roommate, and the worst drink mixer ever, works there and arranges tables for us.
Now that Henry lives with us, B made a secret arrangement with me to let him in without carding him, since he isn’t twenty-one. I had to promise never to tell anyone so she didn’t end up with half of UCMH on her doorstep, and in return, I get her, Summer, and Cami the best seats for our home games.
It’s an easy promise to keep, because if the rest of the team knew I was pulling strings for Henry, I’d never know peace again.
Within minutes of our arrival, the booth was covered in bottles and unsurprisingly, several drinks in, half the team is wasted.
JJ and Robbie are having what looks like a very intense heart-to-heart, full of back-slapping and digging each other in the arm affectionately. They keep tapping their drinks together to cheers, although I have no idea what they’re celebrating.
Joe and Kris are still watching Henry like he’s the Discovery Channel, desperately trying to learn his ways.
Bobby, Mattie, and some of the other guys have disappeared to make friends with a bachelorette party on the other side of the dance floor.
JJ and Robbie finally break apart to look over at me as I continue to people watch while sipping on my drink. JJ laughs, nodding in the direction of where Anastasia and Sabrina are dancing. “You fucked it with her already?”
“Probably.”
I don’t bother mentioning my plan to win her over or how surprised she looked when I stepped around her earlier, leaving her with my friends. From now on, she’s going to come to me.
* * *
It’s been hours,and all I can think about is smooth, tanned, glowy skin. She’s in alilac dress that’s so fucking tight, melting over every inch of her so perfectly it looks like a second skin.
It plunges between her breasts, and that’s where my ability to describe what she’s wearing ends, because as soon as my eye line travels over the strained material covering her tits, all the blood in my body rushes straight to my dick.