#Selfie (Hashtag Series Book 4) (14 page)

Rimmel laughed. “She’ll be okay. I promise.”

I peeked inside before we left, and she was already curled up sleeping with her tiny head pillowed on my sock.

“Ladies,” Romeo said, motioning for us to go ahead of him in the hall—after we locked the room door.

On our way to the Hellcat, nerves started dancing in my belly… or maybe it was anticipation. I really didn’t want to go out tonight.

But I couldn’t deny I was looking forward to seeing Braeden.

Braeden

“Aww, shit.” Romeo laughed.

I glanced over the rim of the Miller Light tap I was drinking as he snickered. A few of the guys around us all started doing the same.

They were all looking down at their phones.

“I miss something?” I asked.

“You tell us, Mr. Resident Hottie,” one of my teammates said from across the table.

“Excuse me? I don’t speak idiot. Please explain in English,” I cracked.

Romeo slid his phone in front of my face. I read the newest Buzz notification was plastered on the screen.

My beer sloshed over the rim of the glass when I sat forward in surprise. “What the fuck?” I hollered.

“To the new Alpha U stud!” Romeo yelled and raised his glass. Everyone around us followed suit.

“What a bunch of bullshit!” I yelled over the wolf howls.

Romeo clapped me on the back. “Have fun with that.”

I let out a string of curses. “Are you kidding me? The last thing I want is some gossipmonger on campus reporting my every move. I don’t know how the hell you tolerated it, man.” I shook my head.

Romeo grunted. “It’s pretty damned annoying. Especially when the Boss would go after Rim.”

“Labeling her a hashtag nerd and shit,” I spat. “Not to mention all the other people’s dirty laundry that’s been aired all over campus thanks to this fool.”

“I definitely ain’t gonna miss that,” Rome said and drank some beer.

“It’s gonna be weird you not being around. Not having you on the field. We’ve been teammates almost as long as we’ve been friends.”

“I’m not quitting you, B,” Romeo vowed, laying a hand on his chest. Dude thought he was a comedian. “Our bromance will live on!”

“You say the word bromance one more time and I’m never speaking to you again.”

Romeo laughed. “Seriously, though. I might not be around as much come summer, but we’re family. That ain’t gonna change.”

I nodded. I wouldn’t admit it, but I needed to hear that. Everything felt so out of control lately; everything was changing so fast. Knowing some things would always stay the same was reassuring.

Romeo glanced out on the dance floor where Rim was dancing—and not too coordinated—with Missy and Ivy. The ghost of a smile played on his lips as he watched her, but then he refocused his attention and sat up in his chair. His beer hit the table and he leaned in like he had something more to say.

I ducked my head a little closer because the music was so loud.

“About the other night,” he began.

I knew he was talking about the night we had dinner with Mom, the night my father called like it was no big deal to ask to talk to me. The night I stormed out of the house and went to the gym where I pounded the body bag for over an hour after I ran a few miles on the treadmill.

Through it all, Rome had been there. He didn’t ask me any questions or push me to talk about my feelings. Thank fuck. If I wanted to do that, I’d call up Dr. Phil. He just hit the bag with me, then hopped on the elliptical while I ran off my anger on the treadmill.

Basically, he was just there.

I did realize, however, even if I didn’t want to talk about it, he had a right to know what was going on.

“Rimmel knows.”

I glanced up, surprised. I was prepared for some questions, not that.

“I know it wasn’t really my place, but after what happened at Mom’s… Well, she and Caroline talked, and I filled in any questions she had later.”

And that explained the hug I got when I walked in tonight. It wasn’t like me and Rim didn’t ever hug. We had. Yet it wasn’t something that happened every day and never in a bar.

But even she didn’t say anything. She just hugged me extra tight and then told me I better behave tonight.

That was why they were family. They got it, and I didn’t have to say a word.

“It’s cool. After dinner, I’m sure she was freaked.”

“Nah.” Romeo scoffed. “She’s been through a lot. I don’t think much surprises her anymore. If anything, it explained some things.”

I tilted my head to the side. “What things?”

“Like why you’re impossibly obnoxious.” He flashed his teeth in a wide grin.

I gave him the finger.

One of the guys came up from behind, then leaned his ugly mug over my shoulder and held his phone in my face. “Resident hottie!” He chortled. “The BuzzBoss is watching!”

I dug my cell out of my pocket, lit up the screen, and hit delete in front of everyone staring. “The resident hottie has left the building!” I tossed my phone onto the table and it slid to a stop.

“To Romeo!” I yelled. “The original resident hottie!”

Everyone cheered, and a tray of those damned Smurf Balls shots appeared in the center of the table. The girls had already done more than one.

And judging by the way my little sis was dancing, she didn’t need another.

The guy to my right went off in search of an easy lay, and Rome and I sat there watching the girls make fools of themselves.

Well, okay, Rim was the only one looking a little foolish. But that’s why we all loved her.

And really, I wasn’t watching her much anyway. My eyes kept drifting back to Ivy. I was starting to think I needed to get my eyes checked. I seemed to have a problem keeping them away from her.

The damn candy-colored pants she was wearing molded to her porn-worthy ass like a second skin, and the tank top… Good Lord the tank. If only she’d trip and fall in a puddle of water. Every guy in here would get a stiffy. There was nothing hotter than a woman in a wet white tank top.

Well, except maybe a woman in a wet white tank top and a thong.

She was flinging her long, glossy hair around as she moved, and it didn’t escape my notice that she attracted too much attention. I glanced down the table at where the sweater she was wearing when she came in lay. She should put it back on.

Guys sidled up to her every few minutes, and she’d flash them a wide, seductive smile, entertain their attention for the span of a few heartbeats, and then move away, back to her friends.

It definitely didn’t hurt my feelings she seemed so uninterested, but I also couldn’t help but wonder why. She could have any guy out there on the floor tonight, even the ones with dates, yet she seemed to want to stay alone.

Someone slid in the vacant seat beside me, and I rolled my head in their direction.

Missy smiled, her full lips turning up at the corners. Her hair was in a high ponytail that bounced around with the beat of the music. She was wearing a pair of skintight black pants and a yellow shirt that tied around her neck. I’d been so intent on watching Ivy, I hadn’t even noticed she’d left the dance floor.

“Have some balls,” I said and gestured toward the shot glasses full of blue liquid.

“I’ll have some if you do,” she replied over the music.

“Balls aren’t my thing.” I grabbed a shot off the table and held it out to her.

She took it, tossed it back, and slammed it down on the table. Then with a wicked glint in her eye, she plucked my beer out of my hand and took a long sip. When she was done, her lips glistened with beer and she pressed the back of her hand to them, wiping them dry. “Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” I shrugged.

“Dude.” Romeo drew my attention. “I gotta go save Rimmel from herself.”

“May the force be with you!” I yelled after him.

I was drinking some beer when Missy leaned close and whispered in my ear, “So if balls aren’t your thing, then what is?”

I lowered the glass and looked at her. “I’m pretty sure you know.”

Her lips pulled up into a satisfied and welcoming smile.

What. Was. Happening?

Was she hitting on me or just being nice?

Sometimes I really wished women came with an instruction manual.

I leaned back in my seat, putting a little distance between us, and tried to ignore the way she angled her legs and body toward mine. I liked Missy. I really did. But she wasn’t girlfriend material, not for me.

It wasn’t anything personal. No girl was girlfriend material to me.

The second I started getting the feels from her (the feels = she wanted a permanent piece of the B-man), I pulled back. I made it clear we were just having fun. I wasn’t trying to string her along or let her believe it was more than what it was.

I thought she accepted it. Yet sometimes, the way she looked at me during spring break and then again right now… it made a guy wonder.

“Yeah, I think I do,” she agreed.

I couldn’t even remember what the hell I said.

Movement on the dance floor caught my eye. Ivy was almost in my direct line of sight and so was Trent. I hadn’t noticed him before, but I wouldn’t have because he wasn’t anywhere near Ivy.

But he sure as hell was now.

My tongue slid over my teeth as I watched with veiled interest as he approached her. Trent was a little bolder than the other guys coming on to Ivy. He was more familiar with her, more confident. Kind of like he already knew what her response would be.

Poor guy.

He and I were friends. I didn’t want to see him get dissed in front of everyone.

I watched him palm her hips, pulling her back against his body so they were molded together. Ivy seemed startled and she stiffened. Trent leaned around her and said something in her ear.

And this was when she would send him packing.

Buh-bye.

But she didn’t.

Her body relaxed into his, and one of his arms snaked around her waist and held her close. Her hand covered his and they danced in sync with the beat.

I tossed back the rest of my beer, then reached for the pitcher to fill up my glass. I was about to chug it when Missy grabbed it again and smiled, wrapping her lips around the glass.

I grabbed an empty glass and filled up another. “Keep it,” I told her.

I don’t think she liked that too much, but I didn’t give a fuck. I just wanted to get drunk.

“They make a good couple,” Missy yelled and motioned out to the dance floor. I didn’t look again. I didn’t need to. I knew who she meant.

“Poor shmuck,” I replied.

Missy laughed. It wasn’t a joke.

I drank some more beer and my damn eyes wandered back to the train wreck in front of me. Ivy was facing him now. He had one of his legs between hers and they were moving to the beat. At least it was an upbeat song and not a slow one. The pace of the music kept some inches between them.

“You know,” I said conversationally, leaning back toward Missy, “I thought you and Trent were a thing.”

“Me and Trent?” she said, her eyes growing wide. “No way.”

“Why no way?”

She shrugged. “I’m not interested in him like that.”

“She is?” I hitched my chin toward the pair.

“Why wouldn’t she be? Trent’s great and he’s really sweet to her.”

I grunted. I didn’t do sweet and I never would.

“Women like that, huh?” The beer slipped down my throat with ease, and I hoped it started mellowing me out.

“Some do. But not me.” Her tone changed, became a little suggestive.

I focused my gaze on her. She didn’t look away. She looked me over with bold interest. When she pushed her fingers through my hair near my forehead and gave it a tug, I didn’t say a thing.

It would be so easy.

I could have her with barely a word. I could have her beneath me in no time, and I could bury my cock inside her until it didn’t matter she wasn’t who I really wanted.

I thought about it. I was close. So close to giving in.

Missy was here. She wanted me. And I did like her.

“Braeden,” Missy said. I saw my name on her lips more than I heard her say it over the music. Her hand left my hair but landed on my jean-clad thigh.

“What do you want, Missy?” I asked.

“I think you know.”

Just then the song went off and another one began. It was a slow one. Sexy and deep. I looked back at the dance floor, knowing exactly what I didn’t want to see.