“Nope, get up.” Joey grabs him under his arm and hauls him to his feet. “You’re done. Go to bed.”
I step aside but glance around the room to find two of my assholes half-turned away from me.
“Who dared him?” I fold my arms over my chest and set my jaw, staring the guys down.
“Allen,” one of the guys says, throwing his teammate under the bus.
“What the fuck dude!?” Allen yells at the snitch.
“Allen, room.” I point over my shoulder for the door. “You make bad decisions.”
He stomps off, muttering something about backstabbing roommates.
“You’re his roommate?” I ask Robbie, the snitch. When his eyes widen and his face pales, I know the answer. I shake my head and tsk him. “You done fucked up, A-A-Ron.”
“Fuck!” Robbie takes off past me for his room, and I sigh. Bunch of idiots, the lot of them. No loyalty.
I wander down the rest of the hallway and look for more of my guys. As a senior and the special team’s captain for the football team, I have to watch out for my guys too. There are six team captains this year, and it’s my second year being one, so I’m used to looking out for the team, but I swear, freshmen get dumber every year.
When I don’t find any more fuckery, I check the second floor, which is the female floor, and then head up to the third. When I don’t find Robbie outside the room on his ass, I assume he’s okay and decide to use the stairs to get to the fifth floor instead of the elevator. I’m around the fourth floor when I run into Joey, sitting on the landing.
“Hey, you okay?” I lean against the railing, taking in the defeated droop of his shoulders and his head in his hands.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says to the floor.
“Well, you’re currently sitting in a stairwell. Does that help?” I offer, trying to lighten the mood.
He lifts his head and glares at me, completely unamused. I chuckle softly and drop down next to him, our arms brushing in the tight space.
“What’s going on? You wanna talk about it?”
It’s quiet for a minute before he sighs and lies back on the landing to stare at the bottom of the stairs above us.
“I’m the team captain this year. There are twenty-five guys on the team, and I’m responsible for all of them. If they fuck off and get in trouble, end up with alcohol poisoning, or drunk driving, it’s on me.”
“Uh, no the fuck it’s not,” I say matter-of-factly. “They are grown-ass adults. This is my second year as a captain, I understand the pressure you’re under to make sure the team works on the field or ice, whatever you call it.” He chuckles when I correct myself. “And yeah, in-fighting outside of the game affects performance, but if they go off and get drunk or decide to get high, that’s not on you. Not once have I seen anyone turn around in a locker room and ask where the captain was when some asshole ends up in the ER for alcohol poisoning. And trust me, that situation has happened more than once.”
I lie back on the floor and turn my head to look at him. We barely fit in the space, my body against both the wall and him. For just a second, I let my eyes flick to his mouth when he licks his bottom lip. My dick thickens in my jeans at the mental image of grinding against him, moans and panting breaths, deep kisses and goosebumps.
Fuck.
I turn my face away from him and force myself to breathe. Since anyone could walk in here at any time, I can’t be springing a woody in here. Especially if Joey isn’t out.
“What was that?” Joey sits up and leans on one elbow so he’s looking down at me, and it is not helping my current situation. At. All. The urge to reach for him and lower his lips to mine is so damn strong. I ball my fists, then shove them under my ass to keep them to myself.
“Nothing.” I shake my head and sit up, forcing him to move.
“Right,” he says knowingly.
“Look, I’m pretty sure freshmen were created to drive the upperclassmen nuts. I know we did too. At this point, a lot of them are on their own for the first time in their lives. Much like toddlers, they’re testing limits and finding what their boundaries are. We just need to make sure we set a good example, be available if they want to talk, and try to keep them from killing each other.” I pat his knee, and it takes a lot of self-control to remove my hand afterward.
“How old are you?” Joey asks. Surprised, I turn to look at him.
“Twenty-two. Why?”
“I have freshmen who are twenty-one. That kid tonight, is one of two of the eighteen-year-olds I have. In hockey, it’s pretty common to start college late. I’m twenty-five.” He takes a deep breath. “I feel like I have nothing in common with a teenager anymore. How am I supposed to lead them when I can’t connect with them?”
It’s admirable that he takes this so seriously. Maybe I’ve taken advantage of the fact that there are five other captains to help carry the weight, but there are also a hundred and seventeen guys on the team.
