Fury rolls off Blake in waves as he looks down at me as though I’m some kind of stranger. “You and I need to have a serious conversation when we get home.”
I know I shouldn’t stir him, but the opportunity is too good. “Why? You want to know the details? It’s fine, we don’t have to wait until we get home. I can just tell you now. Slade was going down-”
“STOP! STOP! STOP!” Blake yells, pressing his palms against the sides of his head as though it could help remove the image. “I don’t want to fucking know about the details of your dirty ass three-way. Just…Argh. Stop.”
I get to my feet and walk over to Slade while holding my hands out for the ball. “Come on,” I tell him as he tosses the basketball right into my waiting hands. “I need a distraction from all this bullshit.”
“Alright,” he grumbles, getting up and following me to the court while Blake drops down onto the bench with a cloud of disappointment surrounding him. Damian snatches up his discarded ball and comes bounding across the court, cutting in front of us and leaping up to the hoop to dunk the ball.
Slade scoffs but I can’t tell if it’s from Damian trying to show off or because he thought his dunk was lacking. Either way, I don’t care as I step up to the basket and shoot the ball, grinning as it drops straight through the basket.
“Not bad,” Slade grumbles, dashing around me to catch the ball on its bounce, he tosses it straight back up and it sails through perfectly. “I’ve been practicing my trick shots.”
“Alright,” he says as an excited smile slowly spreads across his face. He grabs the ball and tosses it back to me. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Half an hour later, I’m running toward the basket, not giving a shit that the bell for class has already rung and from the looks of it, neither do the boys. I leap up into the air, determined to dunk this bitch. Slade grabs my waist and hoists me up towards the basket. My tongue hangs out in concentration as my arm comes around in a beautiful arc.
The ball slams down through the basket and I scream out with pride as my fingers curl around the metal hoop, holding me up. Slade drops his hands from my body and I’m left dangling from the hoop as the ball bounces far below.
Slade steps away with a cheesy as fuck grin before turning and heading back toward the bench to where Damian and Blake have been fucking around. “Wait,” I call, glancing down to see just how far of a drop it is. Slade’s laughter echoes through the gymnasium and I want nothing more than to pummel my fists into his perfect face. “Get your ass back here and help me down.”
“The deal was to help you dunk. You said nothing about what comes next.”
“Fuck you,” I say, dangling. I glance at my brother. “Blake? Come on, a little help?”
“Nope. Sorry, I can’t hear you through all these mental images of you having a three-way. Is there anyone on my team who hasn’t seen you naked?”
I let out a heavy sigh and slice my eyes toward my last resort, ignoring Blake’s question. I pout out my bottom lip and flash him my best puppy dog eyes. “Damian, please?” I beg. “You know you’re my favorite.”
“Sorry, babe,” he says, hardly glancing up. “As your brother just reminded me, I’ve already seen you naked. You’ve got nothing left to offer me.”
“Fuck you all. How did I manage to get stuck with the biggest group of bastards Aston Creek has ever seen?”
I stare down at the ground, wondering how the fuck I’m going to do this. Is it better to swing and then drop to try to lessen the blow on my legs or should I just suck it up and go straight down? Either way, I’m going to end up with a bruised ass.
Clenching my eyes, I go for it and just as expected, I go crumbling down to the hard court, though lucky for me, my ass escapes the brunt of it while my knees aren’t so lucky.
I get up from the ground with all three of the boys smirking at me, each of them way too proud of themselves. I start making my way over there to give them a piece of my mind when the door of the gymnasium swings wide.
We all stop and stare, ready to face whatever threat is coming our way. Other students are easily handled, teachers are a little more of an issue, but Roman Fucking Westbrock, that’s a whole other disaster.
He strides through the doors to our court as though he owns the place with a cocky, knowing grin that has my blood running cold.