I filled the coffeepot with water, sighing. Coach Chapman had given us the day off.
“Did you take pictures of me dry humping Ryker last night?” Red asked Beverly.
My hand froze on the faucet. If I hadn’t been coherent, I was now. “Pictures?” I didn’t do pictures.
Lucas took over making the coffee.
I ponied up to the granite island, my attention on Red. “Explain.” I shouldn’t have been so freaked out. I’d been getting drunk night after night since the cops showed up at my door to tell me that the small private jet my family had taken to Tahoe for the weekend had crashed. Since then, I hadn’t cared about much, except hoping I could drink myself into a coma and not wake up.
Red pursed her thick lips, looking darn cute. “Do you remember me grabbing your dick last night?”
I shivered. Oh, I was remembering a lot about the night before. She’d been the first girl since that fatal night to get my libido working again.
You got an erection with Beverly.
No. I woke up with morning wood.
You keep telling yourself that. Your dick is fine.
“Why would he remember you?” Beverly piped in. “He certainly remembers my mouth on his penis a few minutes ago, though.”
Lucas choked as he set the coffeepot on the machine.
“Are you saying someone took pictures of you sitting on me?” I asked Red. We hadn’t been naked and hadn’t done anything worthy of a headline that would get me in trouble with Coach Chapman.
The coffee machine began to gurgle before the caffeine aroma floated in the air.
Lucas sat on one of the stools next to me. “What’s all the fuss about? You guys didn’t do anything that was earth shattering.” He stabbed his thumb at me. “Now this guy ramming into a tree with his car while he was drunk? That’s something he needs to worry about.”
Lucas was right. But Coach Chapman might not see it that way.
I remembered the coach’s speech verbatim.“While you’re on this team, you’ll conduct yourself in a professional manner on and off the field. And I don’t want to see stupid shit in the media. The only headlines I want are winning games.”
“Dry humping,” as Red had put it, might not be considered stupid shit to Coach. But as long as the photo didn’t get into the hands of the media, I was good.
Then something occurred to me. “Why are you so concerned, Red?” Most girls I knew salivated to get a piece of me.
She whipped her head in my direction. “It’s Haven.”
That’s right.I preferred Heaven, though.
I raised my hands. “Chill.”
Her nostrils flared as she set her gaze on Beverly. “If you so much as take any more pictures of me or follow me, I will hunt you down and make sure you’re splattered all over the news.”
Lucas and I exchanged a wide-eyed look.
Beverly jabbed a red nail into Haven’s chest. “I didn’t take the picture.”
“You fit the description,” Haven fired back.
“So do eighty percent of the girls on campus,” Beverly said in a tone that could cut ice.
“Ladies,” Lucas said in a soft tone. He was always one to referee. “No need to fight.”
Haven clutched the strap of her purse like it was her lifeline. “My threat stands,” she said to Beverly. Then she stomped out of the kitchen.
I rushed to catch up with her. “Haven, you didn’t answer my question. Why are you so upset?”
