SWNOVELS The Forbidden Freshman: Chapter 20
“Yee-haw!” Mikayla shouts, tipping her head back with a laugh.
Her slender neck is mouthwatering, her smile enough to ignite my insides. Shit, she’s gorgeous and funny and having a blast in this house.
She’s managed to draw every guy in the room around the couch, and they’re all getting into Devil’s Doorway, yelling warnings at the screen and hooting in triumph when Mikayla takes out another bad guy.
About an hour ago, she and Casey started a two-man game, and they’re killing it.
Me? I’ve been sitting on the couch, nursing my beer and trying to command my pig-headed, stubborn-ass dick to stay the hell down.
But then Mikayla goes and laughs again—the musical sound reaching my ears and doing weird shit to my chest. Or she’ll raise her hands and whoop, her triumph so fucking sexy that my cock decides it’s spring-loaded.
I shift in my seat, my eyebrows dipping when I spot Casey nudging her with his shoulder. She tips sideways with a laugh, and he pulls her back up, his fingers lingering to the point of making me growl.
But no one hears me because they’re too busy yelling at these two to get on the train.
“Speed up!”
“Jump!”
They both make it without getting squished by the Midwest Express and then start talking strategy.
And I continue to sit here like a jealous douche as Casey—one of my best friends—gets to touch Mikayla and laugh with her and flirt because he doesn’t have a no-sex rule hanging over his head.
Curse my cocky, arrogant self.
Curse that fucking dart for betraying me.
Mikayla’s hot tongue peeks between her lips as she negotiates the gold heist they’re pulling off. I know what it tastes like now. I want to snatch that remote out of her hands and grab her face. I want to suck the tip of that pink tongue into my mouth and hear her groan again.
My dick springs into action, and I lurch off the couch, stalking into the kitchen. Asher snickers as I walk past him and turns to follow me, but I push him back with a growl.
Raising his hands as two white flags, he backs away. “Chill, man.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, wrenching the cupboard door open to throw away my empty beer bottle.
“So, you’re in a good mood tonight.” Liam strolls in behind me, as unruffled as ever. How the hell does he do it? Stay so even keel all the time?
All I can manage is a grunt as I down a glass of water, wishing it was straight spirits. That would make these torturous weeks easier to get through, just get my cock completely wasted so it can’t even rise to the occasion.
“Mikayla’s a cool chick.” Liam leans his hip against the breakfast counter, crossing his arms and going for conversational.
I grunt again, and he laughs at me.
“It’s only a few more weeks, and then you can go for it. You can do this, man.”
“I don’t date,” I grit out. “I’m not stringing her along just so I can bang her.”
“Okay.” Liam shrugs. “So just be her friend, then.”
“I’m trying,” I practically whine. “But she makes it fucking impossible.”
“Oh, so it’s her fault?”
“No.” I spin around and scowl at him. “Of course not. I just…” I shake my head. “Having her over here was a bad idea. Asher’s just trying to rub my face in it. He knows Casey likes her, too, and he’s goading me.”
“Casey said he wouldn’t go for it. They’re just playing a video game together.”
I throw him a dark glare, feeling like an immature putz when I grumble, “I don’t like it.”
“Because you like her.”
I clench my jaw and look away from him.
He sighs and bobs his head, his standard MO for when he’s about to dish out some sound advice. “Any other day of the week, you’d meet her, bang her, and never talk to her again. This bet is forcing you to get to know her, and for some reason, that scares the shit out of you.”
I sniff, refusing to tell him why. Maybe ’cuz I don’t know.
Maybe because my college isn’t for romance argument is just a thin veil to hide what I don’t want to acknowledge, what Liam probably knows but is nice enough not to say. You don’t dive deep into this shit when the house is filled with hockey bros and they’re yelling at a TV screen.
“You just have to make a choice. Either be her friend, ditch her, or let yourself fall.” Liam shrugs, acting like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
I shoot him an incredulous look, hating the last two options and not even sure if I’m capable of the first one.
He counters my look with a cheesy smile before spinning and walking out of the kitchen. Gripping the edge of the sink, I huff and shake my head, jerking still when a loud groan rises from the TV room.
“Shitballs!” Mikayla yells above them all.
An instant smile tugs at my lips. I love her potty mouth. She’s hilarious.
“This is your fault, Casey. You’re too pucking slow.”
Casey lets out an indignant gasp, which makes Mikayla laugh, and I’m drawn to the sound like I have no control over my own body.
“Wait, wait, wait… did you just say pucking?” His face lights with glee while she rolls her eyes.
“As a joke.”
“Nah-uh, you were legit pucking.” He whoops, then goes suddenly serious. “But I’m afraid you’re not qualified to use that term. It’s for hockey players only.”
“Oh, good God!” She groans, tipping back her head. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Uh… I think not.” Casey gives her an emphatic look. “Now get your cute little ass out of here before you start using words that don’t belong to you.”
He goes to shove her off the couch, but she jumps up with an unladylike guffaw and throws him the double finger with the biggest, cheesiest smile I’ve ever seen.
Holy shit, she’s cool.
I step into her line of sight, grinning at her because I can’t help myself. “Need a ride?”
“Yeah.” She nods. The angry, stressed-out spark she stormed into the workout room with has completely vanished, and I can’t deny my sense of triumph. I did that. We did that—my hockey boys and me.
Holding the door for her, I follow her cute little ass out to my Ford Ranger. I would offer to help her in, but as soon as the alarm beeps, she pulls open the door and jumps up like she’s not a shorty.
She’s clicking her seat belt as I slide behind the wheel.
“This is a really sweet ride.” She runs her hand over the dash.
“Thanks. Dad gave it to me for a graduation present.”
“Wow.” Her eyebrows rise. “That’s impressive. I’m guessing these things go for around thirty Gs or more.”
I’m forced to admit, “It’s a hand me down. He upgraded and I got this, but it was only a few years old when he gave it to me.”
I start the engine and drive her back to Greek Row.
“When I get enough cash together, which will probably be never,” she mutters dryly, “I want to get myself a Jeep Gladiator. I love those things.”
It’s hard not to laugh as I picture her little body behind the wheel of a huge ride like that.
“What?” She slaps my arm with the back of her hand. “You can’t picture my big, tough self cruising through town in one of those things?”
“I can, actually, which is why I’m laughing.” I throw in a wink to soften my teasing, and thankfully she laughs along with me.
“You’re such a jackass.” She shakes her head but is fighting her laughter still. “Just wait, Mr. Ford Ranger. I’m gonna get my Gladiator one day, and I’m gonna drive straight over this little truck of yours.”
Her threat sets us both laughing again, and by the time I pull up to Greek Row, all my angst from Hockey House has dissipated… until I park the car, cut the engine, and spot the tip of her pink tongue again.