“She’s cute,” Trent says. “A little too tall for me.”
“She’s the same height as Bex,” Preston says, nostrils flared.
For whatever reason, Trent and Tucker always hook up with short chicks. I can’t stand bending down and breaking my neck to kiss a girl. Short girls also remind me of my girlfriend from high school… and I can’t go there. Nope, never again.
“Not for me,” I counter. “Taylor’s just right.”
Preston nods in agreement.
Even at her height, Taylor will fit perfectly in the crook of my arm. Or at least she will once I get her in my bed, and I plan to make that happen. No matter how much of a challenge she gives me.
I need to find a way for Preston to get Bex to the club this weekend, and I’ll handle the rest from there.
Chapter 4
Taylor
“How did I lose to Preston?” Bex growls. “In H-O-R-S-E, of all things. Basketball is my sport. Not his.” She spins around to face me, cheeks red and teeth gritted. “This is bullshit. Now, we both have to dance on a bar in front of everyone at our school. This is so embarrassing.”
I shrug, unfazed.
Bex lost a bet to Preston and convinced me to embrace the shame with her. We have to shake our asses to one song to win money for charity. It’s for a good cause. And Bex lost to Preston, fair and square. She can’t back out of this, so I might as well make sure she follows through.
“It will be over before you know it,” I promise her. “Get a move on. We have to leave in a few minutes if we want to get there on time.”
After Bex slips into the tight spandex shorts and pink tank top we have to wear, then she stares in the mirror as if she doesn’t recognize herself.
I come up from behind her and cup her shoulders with both hands. “You look hot, babe. We will own this dance contest.”
She looks at me in the mirror and rolls her eyes. “Remind me never to make deals with hot hockey players. I don’t know shit about dancing at a club. This will be so humiliating. Why are you not upset I roped you into this?”
I brush off her concern and continue lining my lips with my signature light pink gloss.
“I like dancing and money,” I joke. “I don’t see the problem. It’s not like we have to take off our clothes.”
Annoyed, Bex blows out a puff of air. “I guess so. But look at what we have to wear. It’s ridiculous.”
I step back from Bex to check myself in the mirror and fix the short tank top riding up my stomach. Neither of us ever wears clothes this tight or skimpy, but it’s not like we have a choice. Bex owes a debt, one we both now have to pay.
“It’s not that bad,” I tell her. “The whole thing will be over before you know it.”
The more I try to wave off Bex’s concern, the more irritated she looks.
She frowns, unable to hide her disappointment. “Whoever ordered our outfits must have sized them for children. Black spandex shorts that barely cover my underwear are not okay around Preston. Neither is this top that scoops so low my nipples are practically hanging out.”
We’re both popping out of these shirts.
I laugh, focused on Bex’s transformation. “But you look smoking. Preston will pop wood so fast you won’t be able to keep him away from you.”
“Ugh. That’s the problem. I can’t have Preston see me like this.” She wraps her arms around her stomach. “He’s so touchy-feely. Being around him makes me want to break my dad’s rules. I’d do it, too. If he wanted to.”
“You bet your ass Preston would. He wants you. Anyone within a ten-mile radius of you two can feel the sexual tension. Your dad’s last rule applies to dating, but he never said you couldn’t have sex with his players.”
“No, not you, too.” She sounds bummed that I’m siding with him. “You’re just as bad as Preston. Look what happened the last time I had sex with one of his players. It almost ruined my life.”
“This time is different.”
“How so?”
