by Aubrey Irons
“She’s pretty hot, bro,” Jason adds in with a sheepish look.
I shrug. “Eh, not my type.”
Evan snorts. “Bullshit. Word is your ‘type’ has a pussy and legs that can spread.”
They all erupt into laughter as we cross the street from the college entrance to the official and yet unofficial off-campus house for the upper tier of the football team. Okay, it’s a frat house without the greek letters, but who’s really keeping track.
I frown as we walk. I mean, I want to laugh it off with them, but there’s something digging at me about these guys talking about her like that. I’d say it’s jealousy or something, except I’m Dalton Cole - I don’t get jealous, I get laid. Jealousy is what losers feel for winners like me.
“Dude, she’s my stepsister,” I mutter.
Jason punches me in the arm. “Bro, didn’t you bang that T.V. actress’s mom?”
Yeah, I did do that. I wouldn’t exactly say I’m proud of it, but I am every fucking inch the pussy-chasing scumbag the tabloids say I am.
I grin. “Guilty.”
Jason hoots and claps me on the back. “So don’t try and play that moral card, buddy.”
I make a face. “Man, she’s like family, I don’t see her like that.”
“'Step’ ain’t really family, buddy. Plus she’s not even that yet,” he says with a wolfish grin. “And don’t lie. I saw you scoping that fine ass right alongside the rest of us.”
“Bet she’s a virgin, dude,” Henderson says, chuckling with a shake of his head. “And I’ll tell you what, man, I would tear that pussy up if-”
“Enough.” My voice is loud, dark, and edged as I cut him off. “Tone it the fuck down.”
“Hey, relax, freshman,” he says, flipping me off and shaking his head.
I’m pissed at this conversation, and I don’t even know why. The idea of these guys hitting on Hailey or looking at her like that or fucking thinking about her like that has some sort of bizarre possessive thing raging up inside of me, and I can’t even tell if it’s protective or just plain territorial.
Both are weird feelings.
“Alright, alright,” Evan cuts in as we head around back to the patio behind the house. “Leave the kid alone.” He shakes his head. “Besides, that shit is off limits.”
Henderson snorts. “Says who?”
Evan rolls his eyes and grabs some beers from the big reach-in cooler outside. “Says the fact that she’s Coach Garrison’s daughter, dumbass. That’s a line you don’t cross.”
Henderson just shrugs as he cracks his beer. “I’d say that just makes things more interesting.”
There’s a quiet moment before Jason pipes up with a shrug. “I’d hit it.”
Ramirez, one of our defensive guys, pokes his head out the back door. “You fuckers talking about Coach’s daughter?” I shoot him a dagger look but he doesn’t seem to notice as he steps outside. “Shit, I’d hit that too.”
Henderson grins. “Well what do we say dudes, a little gentlemen’s bet?”
Anger roars up inside of me all over again as I narrow my eyes at him. “Fuck off, guys.”
“Hey, Cole, you wanna wimp out that’s fine.” Ramirez grins at me, grabbing a beer from the cooler.
“Yeah there’s enough pussy for you on this campus anyways, dickhead,” Henderson says with an annoying laugh. “How about it, boys - a hundred bucks to whoever taps that first.”
Evan shakes his head. “That’s just wrong, man.”
“Yeah, so wrong it’s right, you mean,” Henderson says, choking on a slug of his beer.
I can still feel that weird, confusing possessive anger simmering right below the surface. But there’s also that competitive instinct in there too - that driving need to win and be first, and the best.
That fire inside that makes me the fucking star I am, if we’re being honest.
‘Course, it’s also the fire that makes me say dumb shit, sort of like what comes out of my mouth next.
“A hundred bucks?” I snort as I kick back in my chair and throw my feet up on the table. “What if we made it interesting?”
The group of guys around me goes quiet and collectively starts to grin
“Let’s make it a grand.”
There are low whistles around the backyard before Jason cracks ups and throws his hand up to high-five me. “Well damn, boy! There’s the Big Ten I was hearing about!”
Ramirez is cackling like I’m the funniest dude in the world. “That’s filthy bro, I like it!”
What the fuck am I doing?
Henderson nods. “You’re crazy, but you better start saving, golden boy. Nerd-girl’s ass is mine.”
I very quietly resist the urge to put my fist into his mouth.
I’m acting like a complete fucking idiot here, but I know I’m in too deep now to say shit. And as dumb as I know it sounds, I’ve got a reputation to uphold, however sordid.
Besides, it’s just a stupid bet.
7
Hailey
“So, settling in okay, Hailey?”
Heather smiles at me as she passes the salad across the table.
Okay, this is nice. I mean, I love my dad, but family dinners for the majority of the past ten years have mainly consisted of takeout or weird frozen dinners and - yep, you guessed it - football on the t.v.
Real conversation, homemade food, and a table that doesn’t start with the word “coffee” is a wonderful improvement.
The fact that dickhead Dalton won’t be gracing us with is presence tonight makes things that much more enjoyable.
I nod and swallow the pasta in my mouth. “Yeah, actually,” I smile back at Heather. “It’s going fine.”
I’ve been on campus for four days now, with classes starting Monday. Yeah, it might not be Columbia, and Dixon might not be New York City, but I’m slowly making peace with that. After all, it’s just one semester, and then I can move on with my plans.
One semester without any more annoying visits to my dorm room by Dalton and his football goons would be preferable.
Something soft brushes quickly against my leg, followed by a rusty, wailing meowing sound under the table.
“Oop, here you go, buddy.” Dad starts to pass a piece of bow-tie pasta under the table to his cat Beasley. I say “his cat”, because the snaggletoothed Maine Coon is no one’s but Dad’s. Heck, I’ve known Beasley for close to nine years, and he want’s nothing to do with me.
“Jim-”
My dad looks up sheepishly from feeding his beggar of a cat as Heather rolls her eyes at him. “Should I have set a place for him?”
“Please don’t?” I mumble out.
Heather laughs.
“Aww, he just loves himself some pasta, that’s all,” Dad says, giving me a wink.
“Dad, Beasley loves himself food - like, as a general concept.”
“He’s a growing boy!” Dad says with a grin. “I’m gonna work on his blocking drills this season and maybe stick him on the defensive line, what do you think?”
I sigh as I shake my head at Heather. “You had no idea what you were getting into, did you?”
Heather laughs again as she reaches over to hold my dad’s hand. “Oh, I’m in for the whole deal - Beasley and all.” She flashes a smile at my dad before turning it my way. “By the way, I hope you don’t mind, but I took a look at your schedule today.” Her eyebrows go up. “You’ve got a pretty hefty first semester, you know.”
I nod. “I know, I just want to knock out as many general ed classes as possible before Columbia.” I shrug. “I figured they’d be easier to do here.”
Crap.
I cringe the second I say it, realizing how shitty it sounds out loud. “God, sorry, that came out wrong.”
“Hailey,” my dad frowns and shakes his head, but Heather just smiles and pats his arm.
“No-no, that’s okay.”
“Heather, I really didn’t mean-”
“Hailey, really, it’s okay,” she waves her hand
dismissively and smiles at me.
God I’m an asshole.
Heather’s really trying here, way more than some of the other women Dad’s found over the years. I mean, there was Trish the drunk, and Lauren was literally a shoplifter. Heather tops the list by a mile, and here I am insulting the school she runs right to her face.
Heather grins and meets my eye across the table. “Hailey, really, I’m not insulted, and I know what you meant. But I’m proud of the level of state school we are.” She shrugs, “Actually I’m pretty excited to push things in a more academic direction now that I’m at the top.” She turns and winks at my dad. “Not at the expense of the football program, of course.”
Dad chuckles, and she rolls her eyes. “Hey, I’m smart enough to know where our alumni donations come from,” she finishes with a smile before turning back to me. “I’d honestly welcome any feedback on the school while you’re with us, Hailey.”
“So, you’re thinking I’m a little nuts aren’t you?”
We’re in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner with Beasley prowling for scraps at our feet when Dad stops and leans against the counter next to me.
“Dad-”
“Give it to me honest, kiddo,” he puts up fake boxing hands as he grins at me.
I roll my eyes at him. “You know I really like her, Dad.”
It’s just her dickhead of a son I can’t stand.
“You don’t think it’s a little crazy to make this step after only six months?”
I shrug, pushing the rack into the dishwasher and shutting the door. “I mean, you love her, right?”
“It’s the real deal, kiddo.”
I grin. “Good, then no, I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “Yeah, I really am.”
He smiles back before grabbing me into a big bear hug. “Thanks, sport.”
Heather ducks into the kitchen. “You ready to go, honey?”
“Oh, yeah,” Dad grins sheepishly at me. “Hey, Hails, Heather and I were about to head out and paint the town red.”
Heather rolls her eyes at me. “He means a glass of wine and then humoring me with that new French film down at the art movie house.”
Dad throws his hands in the air dramatically and Heather laughs. “But if any of those football boys of his ask, we were at- oh, I don’t know, a strip club or something ridiculous.”
“Oh, definitely tell ‘em that, I’ll be the king of that practice field,” Dad laughs as Heather punches his arm.
“So what are you up to tonight then, Hailey?” Heather says, grabbing her purse from the back of one of the kitchen stools. “I’m sure there’s a whole bunch of parties back on campus tonight, much to my chagrin.”
Oh, yeah, my wild social life.
I frown as I clear my throat. “I- uh, actually I was hoping I might just stay here tonight?”
Heather and my dad exchange a look before she turns and nods. “Yeah, of course! You know, it’s your house now, too.” She smiles as she puts an arm around me and gives me a squeeze. “Oh! Why don’t you go for a swim or something? We just had the pool cleaned this afternoon and it’s a hot one out tonight.”
“Oh, my suit’s back at the dorms.” I make a face - the pool actually sounds like an amazing idea seeing how muggy it is outside in the late summer night. “Maybe I’ll just watch a movie or something.”
My dad waves his hand. “I’m sure there’s an old suit up in one of those boxes in your room, Hails.”
I shrug, “Yeah, maybe.”
Dad grins as he ruffles my hair. “Don’t have too much fun, kiddo.”
Oh yes.
The late summer heat fades as I slip into the water. I place my glasses on the edge of the pool and let my head dip back onto the folded towel behind me. The stars are out, and I can even see them here, as opposed to the old house that was a little closer to the city. Certainly more stars than I’d be seeing in Manhattan right now.
Alright, so there are some perks to being here instead of there.
I sigh as I ease back, letting my legs float out as I slowly close my eyes, relax, and-
The scream catches like ice in my throat as something huge hits the pool next to me, but it tears out of me in a shriek when the blurred body comes rushing out of the water towards me with hands and arms outstretched.
I’m still screaming, and scrabbling backwards up the side of the pool when the figure starts to laugh.
Oh my God, are you kidding-
“Woah! Woah!”
It’s Dalton, of course, standing right in front of me in the pool and laughing his damn ass off as I feel the adrenaline rattle through my body. I let the air out of my lungs in a whoosh.
He chuckles, “Jesus, relax, darlin!”
“I can’t see without my glasses, you ass,” I hiss, turning to fumble on the side of the pool.
“Hang on.”
I gasp as I suddenly feel his body right behind me, his skin against mine, his slick, muscled chest against my back.
“Hey! What are you-!”
“Relax,” he says again, his voice deep and even and right by my ear. “Here.” His hands brush my ears, and suddenly I can see as he slips the glasses onto my face.
I blink and look up into Dalton’s grinning face, only a foot away from mine.
He winks at me. “Better?”
I hit him in the arm. “You scared the shit out of me!”
He laughs as he backs away, hands up towards me. “Sorry, you were too tempting a target.”
I scowl at him and adjust the glasses on my face, feeling my heartbeat slowly creep back down to normal. He’s shirtless, his muscles glistening with drops of water in the dim glow from the pool lights. His sharp blue eyes twinkle at me as he runs his hand through his slicked back hair.
“Howdy,” he drawls, winking at me again.
I am suddenly acutely aware of the old, dorky one piece bathing suit I’m wearing.
I’m also acutely aware of how bizarre it is that I even care. Who cares what he sees me in? I’m not trying to impress him or anything.
I frown and shake my head. “What are you doing here?”
He makes a face. “I live here, darlin.”
I roll my eyes. “I meant what are you doing here now, it’s Friday night.”
“True!” He gives me a thumbs-up. “Next question is a doozy though - what month is it?”
“Har har har,” I roll my eyes at him again. “I meant shouldn’t you be out getting wasted with your ‘bros’ or screwing sorority girls?”
“Probably,” he grins at me. “Don’t you feel special that I’m here with you though?”
I give him a look, folding my arms over my chest. “Not really.”
He laughs out loud, “Damn, red, you really don’t like me much, do you?”
I frown. “I don’t know you much, blondie.”
He grins and this time he rolls his eyes. “Oh sure you do, everyone knows me.”
“Wow,” I shake my head at him. “You’re really in love with yourself, aren’t you?”
“Aww, c’mon, you know what I mean. I mean everyone knows me from t.v. or any of those magazines.”
He’s right, of course, but I decide right then and there that Dalton Cole does not need another person stroking his ego by telling him they’ve read about him in an article.
I shrug. “I really don’t follow football.”
“You mean you don’t really like football, and I guess that means players, too.”
“Okay, I don’t really like football so I don’t really follow it, understand?”
“Not at all,” he says with a grin. “You realize your dad is like, the Bill Parcells of high school football, right?”
“Who?”
Dalton rolls his eyes. “I mean he’s a legend, which makes you hating on football sorta weird.”
I dip down a little more in the water, backing into the side of the pool. “It’s my dad’s thing. I’ve never really see
n the appeal of a bunch of guys running into each other over a ball.”
Dalton shakes his head. “Glory, baby.”
I raise a brow. “Huh?”
“It’s not the ball, its glory.”
I snort. “You make it sound so poetic.”
“Well, glory and pussy I guess.”
I wrinkle my nose and he laughs. “Little less poetic now?”
“Much; thanks for that.”
He grins. “C’mon.”
“What?”
“You said it yourself, we should be partying and getting drunk.”
I shake my head. “‘You’, I said ‘you’ should be getting drunk.”
He grins at me. “Yeah well if I do it alone it’s a problem, so get out here.”
Dalton doesn’t wait for an answer before he moves to the edge of the pool and effortlessly pulls himself from the water.
And my jaw drops.
He’s not just shirtless, he’s practically naked, wearing just a pair of those damn white boxer briefs. The same ones, I’m mortified to admit even to myself, that I recognize as the ones from that famous advertisement.
Dalton turns, and if I was blushing before, my face goes downright crimson as my eyes drop to the very sizable, very visible bulge between his legs.
I quickly look away.
No way, that wasn’t-
“Prude.”
I jerk my head up, and my eyes go wide as I realize he’s now got his hand down the front of his briefs.
I quickly look away. “God, are you…playing with yourself?”
Dalton cracks up. “Oh, yeah, I always just start jerking it in front of girls, that’s sort of my move.”
“Wouldn’t exactly be out of character.”
He snorts a laugh. “Relax, I’m just warming it back up. That water’s fuckin’ cold.”
I make a face, wrinkling my nose. “You are so gross.”
“Hey, don’t tell me you haven’t heard the rumors.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say primly, forcing myself to think of literally anything in the world besides his…bulge.
Dalton chuckles again. “Sure, darlin. Anyways, I’m decent now.”
I look up and shriek as I realize he’s bent over and mooning me.
