“Let him do what he wants,” Nash says to Knox. “Once his dad finds out, she’ll be gone anyway.”
“Not this time,” I challenge.
Nash snorts, retreating to his side of the hallway.
Knox rolls his eyes and flattens his hand against his forehead to give me a mock salute. “Whatever you say, Colonel.”
We all grew up together at York Military Academy where I outranked all of them as a Cadet Lieutenant Colonel. I was the commander of our battalion. No one understands why we use our last names when speaking to or about each other. We were forced to address each other by rank and last name throughout military school. Ten years is a long time, making it a habit none of us can break.
Harker was a Cadet Captain. He comes from a military family. His dad is a general in the United States Army, his mother a debutant from Manhattan.
I shake my head at Knox. “Okay, Drill.” Short for drill sergeant.
“Leave it alone, would ya?” Harker says to Knox.
“Okaaayyy…” Knox’s voice trails off.
“You always have something to say about what we do,” Harker says, “when you’re over there texting the waitress you met last weekend.”
“I’m trying to get my dick sucked not marry her,” Knox says, his voice so loud it turns heads in the hallway.
“I’m not marrying anyone,” I spit back. “I just wanted to do something nice for Briana. After what Abby did to her, I owe her that much.”
His nostrils flare. “You’re Julian Rivers. You don’t owe anyone shit.”
“This is a losing argument,” I sigh. “I’m done talking about it.”
“Whatever.” Knox crosses his thick arms over his chest, his eyes intense and threatening.
He can be a mean son of a bitch without realizing it. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. His mom is a druggie whore wrapped in designer clothes and the thick stench of Chanel to cover the booze. Like me, he was born into a family with too much money and no social skills. I’ve given him a pass over the years because of his shitty home life. But I’m not fucking around when it comes to Briana. If he even thinks about getting in the way, I’ll make him pay for it.
“Jamie just texted me,” Nash says, holding out the phone in his hand. “He’s making dinner again. You guys hungry?”
“Yeah, I can eat,” I mutter.
The rest of the guys echo something to that effect.
We live in a house with our teammates, several of which are the sons of famous hockey players. Because of their fathers, they have an advantage over us that we never had, despite our money and connections. Preston Parker, Drake Donovan, and Tucker and Tyler Kane were raised to become hockey players.
But Jamie O’Connor is different. He’s richer than everyone but me, and if you met him, you’d never know he had two nickels to rub together. He also pretends to be more interested in hockey than gaming and coding. But it’s pretty obvious he’s planning to follow in his father’s footsteps instead of his friends, who want to become professional hockey players. Which is good for me, considering there are only so many openings in the NHL Draft. One less player from our team will increase my odds, which are already pretty slim.
When I came to Strickland University, I had to play on the second line. It was a real ego hit for Knox as well as Harker, Nash, and me. We were big fish in our small pond at York Military Academy. I was the captain of the team the last two years, a defenseman paired with Harker for all of high school. Our parents dumped us at YMA because they didn’t want to be bothered with us, forcing us to become our own fucked-up family. So, like our other teammates, the four of us also have an unbreakable bond.
When we step inside the house, the scent of spices and garlic fills my nostrils. Ever since Jamie started dating Shannon, we’ve had a lot of home-cooked meals. My mother never lifted a finger to cook. She was too busy planning charity galas and pretending that her spa trips weren’t extended stays in rehab. For the short amount of my life I spent around her, she never paid me any mind. I was the requirement she needed for the prenup. One child. That was the deal she had with my father. And then, like I meant nothing to either of them—because I didn’t— they shipped me off to boarding school. I haven’t been home for more than a week or two at a time since I was eight years old.
When Shannon started hanging around the house, offering to make our food, I told Jamie he had better not fuck this up. There comes a point when you get sick of ordering out. Cafeteria food is decent, at best. None of us will admit it aloud, but we all look forward to the nights when either Jamie or Shannon cooks for us.
Tucker Kane, a tall blond, whose father is the general manager for the Philadelphia Flyers, rushes down the stairs, slinging a backpack over his shoulder.
“Jamie’s making dinner,” Knox says to Tucker.
He nods. “Yeah, I know. But I got a study appointment.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
All of us laugh, and then Tucker brushes past us, slamming the front door behind him. Tucker was failing his classes at the start of the semester. Not until he started crushing on his tutor did he even bother to open a textbook. Now, he spends a lot of time at the library with this girl.
Our house is crammed with ten guys, and even in such a big house, it still feels too small for all of us. There are video game controllers scattered on the coffee table in front of the oversized sectional couch. Mage Wars, the gaming universe Jamie’s father created, is flashing on the screen. Preston Parker, the captain of our team, is lounging on the couch with Drake Donovan.
Preston is the son of Alex Parker, a former defenseman for the Flyers and now the current head coach. When I was growing up, I idolized him. I wanted to be like him. Years later, I had no idea I would ever get the chance to meet him, let alone play hockey with his son. Preston is like his dad in every way. And no matter how hard I try, I can never surpass him. We’re both defensemen, Preston paired with Jamie and me with Harker.
Preston clicks the buttons on the remote, yelling about getting a sword to Drake. Drake is the starting goaltender for our team and the son of Carter Donovan, one of the best goalies to ever play for the Flyers. Their dads are legends, especially in this city.
“I don’t know how to play this shit,” Drake yells.
Drake is the only one who doesn’t play Mage Wars in our house. He hates video games. I’m surprised Preston is making him play with him.
Preston glances over his shoulder at us. “Anyone want to take Drake’s place? He’s acting like a little bitch because he’s getting his ass handed to him.”
I snicker.
“I will,” Knox says, hopping over the back of the sofa to plop down on the cushion next to Drake.
Before we enter the kitchen, Trent Kane flies through the dining room and almost knocks me over. He’s identical to his twin. The only difference is his messy blond hair that brushes his forehead, where Tucker spikes his in the front.
With a piece of garlic bread stuffed in his mouth, Trent grabs my shoulder. “Damn, sorry, bro. I didn’t see you.”
I shrug off his concern. “All good.”
“I’m running late,” he says between bites of the bread. “Jemma’s gonna kill me.”
“Where are you going?”
“Jemma’s first doctor’s appointment.”
Last semester, Tucker and Trent accidentally had sex with the same girl. Neither of them knew the other liked Jemma. She’s a transfer student who had no idea they were identical twins. It was a weird situation. And now, Trent is dating Jemma, who’s also pregnant with his baby. He was upset at first, mostly in denial about it, but now he seems like he’s coming to terms with the fact he’s going to be a father soon. I don’t know how I would react if it were me, but I give him a lot of credit. I didn’t have a loving supportive father. That’s something I never experienced firsthand.
“Take my car.” I remove my phone from my pocket. “Ramon will be out front in a few.”
Trent slaps me on the back. “Thanks. I can’t fuck this up…
again.”
My father had insisted his driver, Ramon, follow me to school. He had full control over my life while I lived on campus at York Military School. But when I got accepted into Strickland University, he knew it would be harder to keep tabs on me in the city. So, he makes Ramon drive me everywhere. It’s his way of watching over me. Like he cares.
“Who’d you guys win dates with?” Drake throws the remote to Knox, and then rests his arm on the couch, glancing over at us.
“Briana Bloom,” I say.
Drake pushes a hand through his dark hair and gives me a weird look. “Didn’t you date someone named Briana?”
“Yeah. She won the date.”
He roars with laughter. “You’re joking me?” Drake leans against the plush couch, his big body taking up an entire cushion. “Your ex bid on you? Why would she do that?”
“Because I asked her friend to help me,” I admit.
“Seriously?” Preston chimes, his focus on the massive flat-screen television on the wall in front of him. “You paid her friend to make sure she bid on you?” He shakes his head and mutters, “Must be nice to have more money than sense.”
Annoyed with the condescension in his tone, I shoot back, “No, I didn’t pay her friend. And don’t act like you know what you’re talking about.”
“Someone’s got his period,” Preston says with a chuckle.
Drake laughs. He pops a handful of pretzels into his mouth and stuffs his hand back into the bag on the table in front of him. “Idiot,” Drake mutters between bites, the pretzel crumbs falling onto his shirt.
Maybe I am an idiot.
“I tried to stop him,” Knox says.
“Me, too,” says Nash.
“That girl is nothing but trouble,” Knox adds with fire in his tone.
“You never liked her,” I shoot back. “So, I don’t want to hear it.”
Harker slaps his hand on my back. “It wasn’t a bad idea, Colonel.”
Drake narrows his eyes. He doesn’t get our military references.
“You guys are weird,” Drake says, kicking his big foot up on the coffee table.
Only Knox, Nash, and Harker know how I feel about Briana. I never told the other guys in the house because it’s none of their business, and also because I’m not as close to them as my friends from boarding school. Those guys know me better than anyone else. Even when I tried to pretend my breakup with Briana didn’t bother me, they all knew. They saw through the bullshit and lies I told them. That’s why Harker agreed to help me out. Sadie won the auction but not fair and square. With a little help from Harker and a few of the sorority girls, Sadie’s bid was going to win no matter what. And she did. She doesn’t need to know it. I figured I owed her one for helping me get Briana’s attention again.
Jamie steps into the living room with an apron around his neck that says Kiss the Cook, the front of it full of spaghetti sauce splatters. Judging by how much food is on him, I can imagine what the kitchen looks like.
“You guys ready to eat?” Jamie asks, looking tired as hell.
“Starved,” a few of us say in unison.
And that ends the conversation about the auction. For now.
Chapter Six
Briana
Working at a coffee shop sucks balls. No matter how hard I try, I can never get the smell of coffee out of my hair and clothes when I get home from work. On days like today, when I have to pull a double shift, switching between Broad Street Beans and Rizzo’s Bakery, I come home smelling like coffee-flavored pastries. Sadie loves the smell. She takes a big whiff of my hair every night when I come home just to see if I’ll laugh at her. Most of the time I do. It’s hard not to.
“We’re getting slammed,” Sam says, sliding a few drinks down the bar in front of me.
“Yeah, this is crazy. It’s like we’re giving out free drinks.”
I have a lot in common with Samantha Marchand. We both attend Strickland University with the help of grants and scholarships that force us to keep our grades up. Like me, Sam works several jobs and will do anything to keep her head above water. She started dating Tucker Kane, one of Julian’s teammates. Tucker and his twin share a room down the hall from Julian in the hockey whorehouse.
After tutoring the hot hockey player, she fell for his charms. It’s not hard to see why. But I never expected a girl like Sam to mess with a guy like Tucker. But I guess the same could be said about Julian and me. We’re from two different worlds, and yet somehow, we found enough commonality to make it work… for a while.
“Orders up for Kelly, Savanna, and Tracy,” I call out as I set the mugs on the bar in front of us.
“This line hasn’t died down since my shift started,” Sam groans. “I think my fingers will fall off if I have to make another cappuccino.”
I laugh at her comment and take the top off the espresso maker to add more beans. A few of them fall onto the counter that I sweep up with my hand and deposit into the trashcan behind me.
“I have to work at Rizzo’s after this,” I tell her.
“I have to tutor one of the guys on the baseball team after this.” She sighs as she reads the drink order from the side of the cup.
“I promised myself no more jocks after Tucker.”
“It pays good, right?”
She nods. “Yeah, after Tucker, I upped my rate to fifty bucks an hour and these rich idiots will pay it.”
We both laugh.
“I wish I could make that kind of cash per hour.”
“You could,” she offers. “You’ve got the grades to tutor people.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have the patience required to teach people. It comes naturally to you.”
She shrugs. “I guess. But money is money, you know what I mean.”
I nod. “Sure do.”
“So, you and Tucker. Will you be at his game this weekend?”
“Should be. As long as nothing comes up with any of my jobs.”
At least a dozen students walk through the front doors, sucking the air from the already crowded café. Some people are standing around sipping lattes in front of the window, while others are hanging out on the small terrace, which overlooks Broad Street. The indoor cafe is packed. The circular two-person tables closer to the windows have at least four chairs scattered around them. The larger tables at the center of the shop are overflowing with obnoxious assholes that can afford overpriced coffee drinks.
As one group of students exits Broad Street Beans, at least two more enter, each time ordering even more complicated drinks than before. Rich kids are so annoying and demanding. Their expectations are killer. Too many of them order their coffee at a certain temperature, with a certain amount of foam, and an exact amount of sugar or creamer. What I hate most is the way they shout their orders. Like we’re servants who work for their parents.
Sam glances at the watch on my left wrist and smiles. “Ten more minutes until we can get out of here.”
“I have to catch the bus on Broad Street. Which way are you headed?”
“Across campus. I told Chase I would meet him in the library.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “Chase Matthews?”
She nods. “Yep. Golden Boy isn’t so golden. He’s about to fail out of philosophy.”
I laugh, and Sam chimes in as she passes another set of drinks to me.
“You know, it’s funny how insecure these rich kids are. Before I knew Tucker, I used to think he was some asshole who walked on water. He had everything handed to him, every advantage in life. But as I got to know him, his walls came down. His arrogance was just a way for him to mask his insecurities. It was his way of keeping people away.”
“Julian is the same way,” I admit. “He acts one way in public and another behind closed doors.”
“Oh, is that so?” A voice I immediately recognize booms from across the bar.
Chills roll down my arms from the fear of having to meet Julian’s intense gaze.
“Maybe you should spend more time
with me behind closed doors,” he says with a wink.
My eyes and mouth widen in shock. How did he hear me over all of the people yelling in this place?
He leans forward, his emerald irises burning a hole through my blue ones.
Julian never steps foot in Broad Street Beans. He hates coffee. It reminds him of his father, who drinks it all day and night. Apparently, his dad is like a vampire and never sleeps, only works and counts his money like some old miser. Julian once told me that the smell of coffee on someone’s breath makes him sick. That’s how much he hates his dad.
What the hell is he doing here?
“I came to see you,” he says as if reading my mind. “I wanted to see if you were okay after what happened at the auction.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter. “You don’t need to check on me. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can,” he shoots back. “But I still wanted to ask… and see if you need anything.”
I shake my head, unsure of how to respond. He’s acting so nice. Does he want a second chance? It’s confusing me. Julian was always good at doing that.
After a long staredown with him, Eden, Sam’s roommate, moves between us. She fixes the green apron around her neck, her gaze shifting between Sam and me.
“You two can get lost.” Eden nudges Sam with her hip. “Your shifts are over.”
Julian’s grin widens. “You’re done for the day?”
“Not quite,” I confess. “I have to work my other job.”
“At the bakery.”
I cock my head at him. “How do you know about that?”
He smirks. “You’d be surprised how much I know about you.”
“That’s not creepy,” I say under my breath.
Turning away from him, I slip into the back to clock out and retrieve my things.
“One down,” Sam says. “And one more to go.”
I sigh at her words. “Yeah, good luck with Golden Boy.”
She chuckles and slings a messenger bag over her shoulder. “One of the good things about dating Tucker is he threatens anyone who bothers me. He’s like my guard dog. It keeps the guys from flirting with me.”
Most Desirable Player Page 4
