“Yeah, I do.”
“What is it?”
“How did you get my number?”
13
ZANE
“Look here,” Jax Echlin said. “Doesn’t this baby look like she’s about to explode out of her bra?”
Jax held up his phone, wearing the proudest smile I’d ever seen from him. Clearly, he thought he’d made the discovery of a lifetime. On the screen, I found a blonde twenty-something female with boulder-like honkers that really did look like they were testing the fabric of the bikini she was wearing.
“Is that all you ever do?” I asked. “Ogle chicks and rate their tits?”
“It’s notallI do, for your information. I haven’t missed a single practice all year, have I? Besides, I do a buttload more than rate their tits. I have special categories for their asses, too.”
“You’re a class act, Jax.”
Normally, I would’ve laughed at that last remark. You know, in a different life, one that hadn’t been turned upside down by Jakob Martin. I wasn’t wrong, though. Jax had a weird obsession. His Instagram was loaded with pictures and videos of women he’d never met and almost certainly never would. Ditto for TikTok. If he didn’t jack off to his social media girls nightly, I would’ve been utterly stunned.
“You’ve changed, bro,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying you’re not the same guy I knew. Last year, you would’ve been all over a picture like this. No, wait, I would’ve been picking your tongue up off the floor.”
“Whatever…”
I couldn’t deny that, which was precisely why I meant to avoid saying any more than necessary. Life had turned into a rollercoaster. I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. Jax didn’t need to know about that truth. One misstep and everything would unravel on me, and I would be totally fucked.
“I’m sorry, bro,” he said, “this time last year you would’ve been yapping nonstop about how you would like this babe to sit on your face and wriggle.”
A tiny laugh sputtered out of my mouth. I couldn’t help it. Sometimes Jax sounded so stupid that it was actually funny. Just the type of thing hockey players said to one another in locker rooms everywhere. Still, I couldn’t deny he’d spoken another truth. I would’ve been all over that picture in the past. In fact, I would’ve taken an intense interest, but I barely cared now. My Instagram had been filled with gorgeous women just like Jax’s. Still was.
So, what the hell happened?
I still loved women. That was the crazy thing. Women still turned me on every bit as much—in theory. Yeah, I know how that sounds, but it’s another truth. Jax would find a way to turn that around on me because, well, he was Jax.
“Maybe I’ve grown up,” I said.
Jax’s eyes widened before his face turned to stone. It must’ve sounded like the craziest thing he’d ever heard. And why wouldn’t it? Maturity had no place with the Remington Riptides.
“Dude, you danced around the locker room with your underwear on your head,” he said.
“Oh, one time. Give me a fucking break.”
“It was just last week, Zane.”
I shut up.
“Uh huh, you know it’s true,” he said. “That means you can’t play the maturity card, Mister Responsible Adult.”
I stuffed into my bag the same briefs I donned on my head before performing a solo (and naked) tango in the middle of the locker room. Doing that didn’t get me all hot, though. Again, that happened in locker rooms everywhere.
“Okay, I guess not,” I said.
Sometimes you’ve got to know when you’re defeated.
