Pretty Boy D by Rachel Jonas
17
Dane
Sterling slams his locker shut, then drops down onto the bench beside West. Wiping sweat from his brow, he gazes up to where I’m leaning against the painted brick wall just beneath the university’s logo.
“And it ended just like that?” he asks, finally responding to the news I shared about me and Joss. News I thought about all night, and again all through today’s practice.
I shrug at his question. “Yep. She set out a couple rules—which didn’t surprise me, we made out a little more, then I left and went to bed.”
Well, I beat off in the shower, then went to bed, but they probably don’t want to hear that.
West has this I-told-you-so grin set on his face that I don’t miss.
“Got something to say?” I ask with a laugh.
“Only that I called this shit way back in eighth grade. I should’ve put money on it.”
He isn’t lying. He and Sterling have both been predicting that Joss and I would eventually hookup, but I don’t think any of us imagined it would go quite like this. She’s always been kind of reserved, which is why I thought she’d shoot down my idea last night, but she didn’t. Proves she’s more ready than I realized. Clearly, number eleven on the list wasn’t just an afterthought.
“Guess we know what distracted you from catching that easy-ass pass I threw you,” West adds. “And here I was thinking it was Shawna who had your mind gone.”
I don’t say it out loud, but, honestly, I haven’t thought about her since we parted ways after the ‘date’.
“So, what now?” Sterling cuts in. “You two just planning to dry hump all summer.”
Laughing, I shake my head at him. “Shut the fuck up. What’s next is we take things slow, so she doesn’t retreat into her shell. But not so slow that she starts thinking too much, convincing herself this was all a mistake.”
That sounds good, but I have no idea how this plan should actually go. I mean, do I wait a week to approach her? Wait until she approaches me? Hell if I know.
I glance toward West when he stands and starts gathering things from his locker to shower.
“Well, I don’t have any answers, but I think this arrangement is just a means to an end. Everyone knows you and Joss are gonna get married, have a bunch of kids we’re all gonna spoil, then grow old together.”
With that, he leaves me and Sterling on our own.
Sterling pushes off the bench, but I stop him before he can bail. “Hang on a sec. Where the hell have you been?”
He meets my gaze and quirks a brow. I hold off on speaking when a few teammates pass, wanting to make sure no one overhears us.
“Feels like you’ve been avoiding my calls. If it weren’t for practice kicking off today, I would’ve thought you skipped town or something. What’s up with you?”
Our father’s face has been all over the news, which is why I’ve given up on TV, but we’re all still affected. My first guess for why Sterling’s been M.I.A. is that it’s getting to him a bit more than the rest of us. Maybe because he’s still living in the penthouse for now, ground zero, the place that holds all the memories, most of which are too fucked up to talk about.
He pushes a hand behind his neck and something about that look on his face tells me I’ve gotten it all wrong. So, I rack my brain for a different explanation as to why he’s been ghosting.
Then, that’s when I remember Pandora’s post. The one where it looked like he might be entertaining our former headmaster’s wife. She’s had her eye on him since we were at least fifteen and it was always a running joke that he’d eventually give in. Only, I never thought it’d actually happen.
Not to mention, the woman is the dean here at the university.
When he looks off instead of answering, I know.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?”
His gaze lowers to the tile. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Bullshit.”
She’s been on his ass since graduation and must’ve caught him in a moment of weakness. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it right now.
“All I know is, you’d better find some way to cover that shit, or… whatever went down. Pretty sure fucking the dean is frowned upon.”
“I didn’t fu—” his voice trails off when he pauses to breathe deep. “I’m handling it.”
My hand slams down on his shoulder. “Let me know if I can help, but in the meantime, keep your dick in your pants,” I tease. “Or, at the very least, keep it out of Mrs. Harrison.”