Next Man Up (Making the Score #2) - Tawdra Kandle Page 0,22

front row seat to their romance. He kept it under wraps most of the time, but I didn’t miss the expression in his eyes when Quinn talked about her frequent visits to Carolina to see Leo Taylor.

I didn’t talk about girls because that would be an exercise in futility. I might’ve still had the capacity to have sex, but I didn’t have the opportunity anymore. Sometimes, I wondered if I’d used up all of my chances back when I had two working legs. If I’d only been smart enough to appreciate what I’d had in those days.

But regret was a bitch, and I didn’t need to dwell in that land. There was nothing to be gained by brooding on what used to be. So for now, I’d shut down that part of my life. I didn’t flirt; hell, I didn’t even try to get to know women anymore. My sole interaction with the fairer sex happened when Quinn and Gia visited our room.

As for Zelda Porter . . . she remained a mystery I wasn’t sure I wanted to solve. Nine months after we’d met, I still hadn’t figured out how I’d known her before, but I was more certain than ever that we must’ve hooked up. Whenever we were in the same room—which wasn’t often—I was tense, wondering if today would be the day Zelda finally dropped the bomb and blasted me for being the dick who fucked and forgot her.

But it had never happened. I was beginning to wonder if maybe whatever had occurred between us was something she didn’t want to revisit, either. That only made me more uneasy.

“Yeah, she sleeps around,” I responded to Nate. “But that . . . I don’t judge her for that. Shit, how could I, after the way I used to act?”

“Some people might say that it’s different for girls than it is for boys.” Nate sounded carefully noncommittal.

“Some people would be hypocrites,” I snapped.

“Whoa, I didn’t say I felt that way. Just that it’s the way the world thinks sometimes. It might suck, but it’s still true.”

“I guess.” I turned another page. “If that’s how Zelda wants to live life, I say more power to her. If she’s honestly happier having lots of sex with different people than with being in a relationship, I get that. I never had a girlfriend. Never wanted one, either. I can’t look down on her for fucking around when I did the same.”

“Maybe—” Nate began, but he was interrupted by a commotion on the other side of our closed door.

“The fun has arrived, boys! Open up for party time.” Gia’s voice floated in from the hallway.

Nate grinned, shaking his head. “Door’s open. Come on in.”

They did just that, fairly tumbling into our room, three laughing girls with short, clingy dresses and shirts, their faces glowing and their voices filled with the exuberance that only comes from relief and freedom. It was the end of the school term, and these women were ready to celebrate.

Gia stumbled over to me and wrapped me in a tight hug. I winced as I scented the rum on her breath.

“Eli Tucker! You hottie hot hottie, you. Are you ready for a good time?”

Patting her back, I gently pushed her away, and she dropped onto the bed next to me. “Hey, Gia. Looks like you started celebrating a little early, huh?” I glanced over at Nate, raising one eyebrow to signal him, but I saw that Quinn was speaking to him quietly, probably letting him know that Gia was wasted. Nate closed his eyes and shook his head.

I’d gotten to know Gia pretty well this year, mostly because she and Quinn were usually together, and Nate and Quinn also hung out just about daily. I’d realized pretty quickly that Gia’s tough-girl exterior hid a girl who’d been by turns ignored and used as a pawn by her warring parents, a girl who pretended that she didn’t care about anyone or anything. She’d done some pretty heavy-duty partying early in the school year, but then on a trip to Carolina with Quinn, Gia had hooked up with Leo’s roommate, Matt Lampert, who’d gone to high school with all of them.

I didn’t know Lampert personally, though I’d heard of him. He was the quarterback on the Eatonboro team during his junior and senior years, but I’d never been on the field against him, since my injury had happened before we’d played Eatonboro that year. Still, I was perceptive enough to realize that