The Jock - Tal Bauer Page 0,96

guys aren’t jocks. They’re way too smart for you.”

“Yeah, they are.” Colton laughed. “They’re pretty cool dudes, though. And the chicks really dig those Beta Theta dudes, so there’s gonna be a lot of girls there. Maybe even your girl.” He grinned. “Might have to actually introduce me.”

Wes turned to Justin. He tried to keep his expression neutral. “Want to go?”

Justin tipped his head back against Wes’s mattress, looking at Colton. “I’m down for meeting some cool chicks. What time?”

Colton’s face scrunched up, tilted almost on its side like he was a dog who’d heard something he couldn’t quite make out. “We’re heading over around ten.”

“Cool. Enough time to finish and change.” Justin grimaced at his scrub pants and undershirt.

“Cool.” Colton pasted a grin on his face. “See you guys there.”

Wes waited until Colton’s footsteps faded down the hall before he buried his face in Justin’s shoulder and let out a snort. “Down for meeting some chicks, huh?”

“I’m always up for networking.” Justin brushed his lips over Wes’s forehead. “He can take that however he wants. I know what I meant.”

At ten, Wes, Justin, and the rest of the offense—Colton, Orlando, Art, Devin, Quinton, Josh, Patrick, Austin, and Cesar—wandered to Beta Theta’s frat house. They could hear the party before they arrived, the thump of the bass reverberating through the pavement. Lawn chairs were set out on the front yard, and beer pong and foosball tables had been placed in the backyard under an oak tree strung with globe lights. People mingled, clutching beer cans and red Solo cups. Four kegs squatted on the back porch. A few people were dancing in the living room, but most of the party was, like all frat parties, loud noise and guys and girls trying to figure out how to talk to each other and not make fools of themselves.

Wes grabbed beers for him and Justin and steered them to a corner of the living room. The rest of the team scattered to the game tables or other parts of the backyard, where most of the single girls were hanging out. Colton found the frat president and handed him a bottle of tequila.

“The quarterback showing up to your party is a pretty big deal,” Wes said, sipping his beer. “Beta Theta has done some good things on campus, and they’ve stayed away from a lot of the crap that gets frats in trouble. This place is going to be flooded once it gets out that the team is here.”

“The team? Or the great Wes Van de Hoek?”

Wes shot him a look. “Notice the dark corner I’m in.”

“We’re in.” He nudged Wes. “It’s cozy. I like it.”

Wes eyed him as he took another sip. His gaze raked down Justin’s body. Justin had changed into skinny jeans and a plaid button-down, and he looked like he had in Paris when they went out that first weekend and Wes had finally kissed him. How long would he be able to hold out tonight? How long until he couldn’t wait another second?

Colton appeared, dragging them to the beer pong table, where he challenged Wes and then Justin to a game. Wes held his own. Justin was terrible, and by the end, he was tipsy and leaning into Wes. Wes guided him back inside as two girls congratulated Colton on his victory, both of them kissing his cheeks at the same time.

“You okay?” Wes asked, lifting Justin and sitting him on a counter in the frat’s out-of-the-way kitchen. He got Justin a glass of water, and Justin downed it, then a second one. His face was flushed, his pupils dilated.

“I’m good, cowboy.” His fingers curled in Wes’s waistband. “I’d be better if you were naked, though.”

Wes stiffened.

Justin pushed his lips against Wes’s ear. “There’s got to be a bedroom somewhere in this house.”

Wes brushed their cheeks together briefly, his stubble catching on Justin’s, before he leaned back and searched Justin’s gaze. Justin bit his lip. Ran the toe of his boot up Wes’s calf again.

He grabbed Justin off the counter and spun him around, guiding him through the house, standing so close behind him they were almost walking in perfect sync. In the living room, Wes had a choice to make: front door or stairs? Go home? Or…

Justin’s hand snaked behind his back. His fingers brushed over Wes’s bulge.

Stairs. Wes hurried Justin up, passing two girls going down and one of the frat brothers monitoring the landing. The brother looked Wes up and down, then shifted his gaze

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