text back, telling her I’m out with the boys.
HAZEL: Use condoms!
I laugh out loud, drawing the attention of Coby. “What are you giggling about over there?” He scowls. “You better not be chatting up a girl. You banned hookups, remember?”
“I banned distractions,” I correct.
And so far it’s been working. McCarthy was in top form at morning skate, proving that his flirtation with Brenna Jensen was the cause of his recent bout of sucking. He didn’t come out with us tonight because he wanted to stay home and watch all the available game tape from Princeton’s season to prepare for tomorrow. See what happens when you eliminate pesky distractions?
“Also, I’m not chatting up a girl,” I add. “I’m texting Hazel.”
“Oh nice, tell her I say hi,” Coby orders.
Hazel was my “date” for a team event last year, so most of my teammates know her. Coby, in particular, took an immediate liking to her. Granted, Coby takes a liking to anyone with tits. And to blondes, apparently, regardless of gender.
“Are you ever gonna give me her number?” he gripes.
“Nope. You’re not allowed to mess around with my friends.” I don’t want Chilton anywhere near Hazel. He’s a major player, and he’d break her heart. She’s too inexperienced to handle someone like him.
To be honest, I don’t think she’s ever had an actual boyfriend. I assume she hooks up, because she’s an attractive, twenty-one-year-old woman, but I’ve never seen her with a man. In the past I wondered if maybe she was a lesbian, but I haven’t seen her with any women, either, and I’ve definitely caught her checking out dudes before. I think she just doesn’t have much game. And Coby has too much of it.
A loud wolf whistle cuts through the rock music blasting in the bar. It comes from the direction of the pool table. The two men standing there have abandoned their game to gape at the entryway.
I follow their stares and…da-yum.
Brenna Jensen is marching across the room. And she looks good enough to eat.
She’s wearing high-heeled leather boots, a short skirt, black leather jacket. Her chocolate-brown hair is loose around her shoulders, and her full lips are blood red.
Another dark-haired girl trails after her. Also pretty, but Brenna holds all my attention. Her dark eyes are on fire, and every molecule of heat is aimed directly at me.
“Connelly.” She reaches our table, baring her teeth in a mocking smile. “Boys. Fancy meeting you here. Mind if I join you?”
I pretend to be completely unfazed by her arrival. Inside, suspicion coils like a rattlesnake in my gut. “Sure thing.” I gesture to the sole empty chair. “Afraid there’s only one seat, though.”
“It’s okay, we won’t be staying long.” She addresses her friend. “Want to sit?”
“Nah.” The girl is clearly amused by all of this. Whatever this is. “I’m gonna call Lamar. Come grab me when you’re done.” She moseys over to the bar, phone already glued to her ear.
“It’s so hot in here,” Brenna remarks. “All the bodies crammed in this shoebox are generating some serious heat.” She unzips her jacket.
What she’s wearing underneath makes everyone’s eyeballs pop out of their sockets.
“Aw fuck,” I hear Coby mumble.
The crop top bares her flat, smooth belly, and it’s cut low enough to showcase some impressive cleavage. She’s also not wearing a bra, so I can see the outline of her nipples, two hard beads straining against the ribbed material. My cock stirs behind my zipper.
She appraises my teammates before focusing on me. “We need to have a chat, Connelly.”
“Do we?”
Her gaze sweeps over the table again. Each guy, even the lowly freshman Adam, receives a thorough examination. To my displeasure, the longest scrutiny is awarded to Coby, whose tongue has fallen to the Dime’s sticky floor.
“Have a seat already,” I say darkly.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Flicking up an eyebrow, she saunters to Coby and settles directly on his lap.
He makes a choked noise. Part surprise, part joy.
I narrow my eyes at her.
She smiles. “What’s wrong, Jakey? You told me to have a seat.”
“I think a chair would be more comfortable.” There’s an edge to my tone.
“Oh, but I’m super comfy right here.” She wraps a slender arm around Coby’s neck and rests her hand on his broad shoulder. He’s six-four and two hundred and forty pounds, making Brenna appear tiny in comparison.
I don’t miss the way his hand curls around her hip to keep her in place.
“Jensen,” I warn.
“Jensen! Hey!” Brooks, coming up for air, finally notices Brenna’s arrival. “When