Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“Can’t make up my mind. Either he’s as a big a whore as you are, or the Ravens are using your history to destroy his reputation. Who’d question it once USC got involved, you know? They put up with your mess, so of course they’d take on someone like him.” He drained his last shot and chucked the glass to the counter. “Shine a little light on the mystery. You fuck him yet?”
Jeremy pulled Faser’s hand free. “I didn’t come here to gossip about Jean. If that’s all you want from me, I’ll just leave.”
Faser shook loose and cradled the back of his skull in a firm grip. The look he favored Jeremy with bordered on pitying. “I don’t think you will,” he said as he ducked in for a kiss. His free hand went down the back of Jeremy’s shorts to squeeze his ass, and he pulled Jeremy flush against him. Jeremy caught his wrist again in a crushing grip, and Faser rolled his eyes at that silent warning. “Keep your secrets, spoilsport, but lose the clothes.”
“I’m not going down on you on linoleum.”
Faser didn’t need to be told twice, and he hauled Jeremy after him down the hall. Alcohol made him clumsy and needy, but Jeremy could use that eagerness against him easily enough. He put Jean and Connors from mind and focused on the hungry heat of Faser’s embrace.
Faser was snoring only minutes after Jeremy finally rolled away from him, and Jeremy contemplated the ceiling as he weighed his options. The easiest thing to do would be to borrow Faser’s car and make it his problem; surely a teammate could take him back to the convention center tomorrow to retrieve it. But Faser drove a stick shift, and Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t stall it out within a couple blocks. Walking back was out of the question, considering how long the drive had been. The only sensible solution was to call a taxi and deal with his parents’ disgust when they saw the charge hit his account.
He rolled off the bed and got dressed. His phone wasn’t in his pockets anymore, but he found it where it’d fallen out near the bedroom door. Jeremy stared down at the clock. It was a quarter to one, but his friends might still be awake. All of tomorrow’s meetings were for the coaches: meet-and-greets with the referees, a panel with the ERC’s representatives, and other such boring things. The Trojans had nowhere to be until it was time to leave Arizona, so they could stay up as late as they wanted tonight.
Jeremy prayed for a little luck and sent, “Awake?”
Laila answered immediately. “Yes.”
He passed his phone from one hand to the other, fighting a silent war, and finally texted, “He’s too drunk to drive me back tonight.” He sent a final look at Faser’s slack face before heading down the hall toward the kitchen. Laila’s response came as he was ransacking Faser’s fridge for water, and Jeremy put the bottle back in favor of hunting down mail. There was none by the door, and the junk mail in the recycle bin was too shredded to be helpful, but he finally found a pizza ad on the coffee table. He sent her Faser’s address and sat down to wait.
It took almost half an hour, but finally Laila messaged him a summons. Jeremy couldn’t lock the door behind himself, so he quietly hoped Faser’s roommate would be back soon. Getting outside was easy enough, and he went straight to the taxi parked at the curb. Laila was waiting in the backseat. She said nothing when he got in, knowing better than to get into it when the driver could hear everything. Jeremy still risked a sheepish, “Sorry,” as he buckled up.
“Back to Knight’s Rest?” the driver asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Laila said.
It was a quiet ride, and Jeremy listened for the total charge when they were dropped off. He wasn’t sure he could free up enough cash to pay her back, but he’d find a different workaround that would fly under his parents’ radar: covering her groceries, perhaps, or buying her a gift card for the local bookstore. He didn’t have a pen to write the number down, but he texted it to her so he could find it again. Laila automatically checked her phone when it beeped at her, but she didn’t comment.
The silence lasted only until they were on the elevator. At this hour, they had the car to themselves. She turned a serious look on him and said, “Were you drinking?”
Jeremy watched the numbers tick up above the door. “Only a little. Two shots,” he said when she continued to stare at him. “I know my limits, Laila.”
“I don’t think you do.”
He flicked her a wounded look, but she didn’t return it. Her attention was on his throat, and she closed the distance between them to press careful fingers to his neck. Even that faint pressure hurt. Jeremy remembered Faser’s bruising grip as Jeremy teased him to madness. At the time it’d been easy to ignore, as Faser’s desperate, breathless swearing had been far more interesting than any discomfort. He fidgeted with his shirt, but a tank top couldn’t save him from her heavy stare.