Chapter 2

"Dude, this party is sick," Hudson, my teammate, roommate, and best friend, shouts over the music as he tosses his arm around my shoulder. The cup of keg beer sloshes over the rim as he dangles it in front of my chest. I watch as tiny droplets hit the gray T-shirt I'm wearing leaving dark spots behind.

The two of us played together in a summer baseball league outside of Dallas before we even started college. Our summer spent playing ball together bonded us immediately. Both of us have a love for the game and a passion for the next level. Plus, we both like to party.

"Hell yeah!" I respond, gazing around the packed Football House, home to a handful of guys on the team. It's a colonial house that has been passed down through the football team over the past six years. Right now, my buddy Quinton lives here with his brother and two other guys. There was a time when Quinton and I weren't super tight, but that all changed once he started dating one of my best friends, Brynn Wilder.

Drunk people are crammed into every inch of the house. Most of the furniture has been moved out to the garage to create more space. The makeshift dance floor is lined with people ass to elbow. Navigating through the crowd is nearly impossible. It's so crowded people are spilling out of the back door looking for a place to stand where they aren't getting pushed every time someone tries to walk by. If we aren't careful, campus PD will be rolling up and shutting this shit down.

And none of us need that.

Especially those of us on the baseball team.

Baseball season kicks off in a few short weeks. This is supposed to be our year. The year we bring home the hardware just like the football team did. Central Texas University will be the place to come for athletics if that happens. Scratch that, when that happens.

While this university is known for always producing epic sports teams, it seems the teams always manage to come up short in the eleventh hour.

But not this year. This year the baseball program is ready.

I'm ready.

We've been waiting for this opportunity for years. Not to mention our coach is celebrating his tenth season with the team, which is practically unheard of in college sports. Especially for never winning a championship game. Everyone has their eyes on us, which means the team has to be extra careful not to get into any trouble, especially the underclassmen. My eyes scan the room, and I quickly find seven underclassmen all with red Solo cups in their hands.

Hopefully, since the football team just brought home Central Texas's first championship trophy, the campus police will be more willing to turn a blind eye to all the noise. It seems like just about everyone is at the Football House. At least we aren't the only place with too much noise tonight. Some of the fraternities are also hosting parties to celebrate the team's success as if they contributed to the winning season. And I'm not complaining. There's nothing I enjoy more than partying.

Except baseball.

Baseball will always be my first—and only—love.

Being here, witnessing this celebration has made my desire to bring home the hardware for the baseball team grow even stronger. I'm almost desperate at this point. I'll do whatever it takes to get the team ready. And prove to my dad that I do, in fact, have what it takes. But fuck him, he's not taking me out of this moment.

"Bro, tell me why the fuck you ended things with Monica," Ty groans, coming up to meet us and interrupting the whirlwind my brain was spinning. I follow his gaze to the dance floor.

Girls are dressed in skimpy clothes, grinding on each other and hoping to bring home a jock. I'm not stupid. I know the girls on campus are only after one thing.

Skimming the crowd, my eyes land on honey-blonde hair and eyes bluer than the sky on a cloudless day. She tries desperately to blend into the wall, avoiding the crowd completely.

The only problem is I see her. I've always seen her. No matter how hard she tries to melt into her surroundings, those bright eyes call to me like a siren singing her song to lure me into her depths. Those bright eyes beg me to dive head-first into her soul.

Only they're not the blue eyes attached to the girl Ty is talking about. They're not the eyes of the girl who had been working her way into my bed over the last couple of weeks.

Nope, this girl.

This girl is completely off-limits.

"Earth to Jacobs." Hudson nudges. It's then that I realize his arm is still dangling off my shoulders. Shrugging out from under his touch, I take a long gulp of the beer in my hands. I don't stop drinking until the cup is empty.

I need another one.

"Seriously, dude. Monica is a total catch." Ty continues. His eyes peruse her as she makes her way over to us. I watch as he takes in her low-cut dress which has her large tits on display. One wrong move, and she's going to have quite the wardrobe malfunction. But knowing Monica, she'd welcome the attention.

Monica and I ended things a few weeks ago. It was fun while it lasted, but the two of us had an arrangement. She was a distraction, someone to let me work my stress out on. Nothing more, nothing less. A means to an end.

"Cody," she chimes, throwing her arms around my neck. Her pink plumped lips find mine. Monica seems to have forgotten that our little arrangement is over and that I don't do public displays of affection. But maybe I can let things slide one more time. We always have a good time together. The girl knows her way around the bedroom. And the season doesn't start for a few more weeks.

Monica's lips are still planted on mine, and I give her a small kiss back. It's not at the intensity she's after, but it's enough to satisfy her for now. Hudson is still grinning like a cat who ate the canary, knowing I'm going to allow her back in my bed one last time.

Reaching up, I lightly circle Monica's wrists before pulling them down. Ending our kiss, I step away giving us a little more space.

"I'll be back." I don't give her any room to object before I brush past her and head toward the kitchen. But I see the slow smirk that spreads across her lips.

I need another drink.

Pushing my way through the crowd, I don't even flinch when my shoulders bump into others. Nothing is getting in my way from getting another drink and getting me back to the girl who is going to distract me one last time from the one girl I can't have.

"Cody!" A platinum blond pops in front of me flinging her arms around my neck. I guess I was wrong. There's only one person I'd let get in my way. Scratch that, there are two, but only one who would actually make the move.

I can't fight the smile that breaks free. She releases me before stepping—stumbling—away from me. I reach out and grab her by the crook of her elbow, steadying her. "You a little drunk, B?"

The mischievous smile that spreads across her face is answer enough. "Maybe." She slurs, eyes full of happiness, and a slight glaze.

Happy looks good on her.

Brynn Wilder has been through a lot. But you wouldn't know it. Her stubborn ass kept it buried deep inside her. Hell, I considered her my best friend, and she never once let on that she's had to deal with insurmountable guilt and grief at such a young age. Once she finally let us all in, so much of her wild behavior began to make sense.

The endless cycle of men. The spontaneity. The weed and alcohol. The wild nights of endless partying. I mean, it's college, and we all love to party, but B took it further than most. It all clicked into place when she decided to be real and share the nitty-gritty details that made up her fucked up childhood. She was living to forget, to escape the past. And no one could fault her.

But since falling in love with Quinton, she's always happy. Happy in a real sense of the word, not the fake happy bullshit so many of us put on as a front.

"Having fun, Cody?" Brynn's eyes bounce to mine as she tries to get a read on me.

"I'm having more fun now that you're here."

"Aw, Cody," Brynn slurs. "You know I'm always down to have some fun with you."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Quinton staring as he makes his way closer to us. One of my favorite things to do in life is rile Q up. I like to see how far I can push him with my flirting before he steps in with his alpha-possessive ego. It's fun and innocent because those feelings just aren't there for Brynn and me. There were two seconds where I thought I had feelings for Brynn, but those feelings quickly faded away. She's my best friend, and that's it.

"You wanna get out of here?" My voice carries over the music. She must see him approaching too because she turns up the charm and fights the laugh that's desperate to break free.

"The fuck you two will," a voice shouts. I watch as two muscled black arms wrap around Brynn's waist. I can't fight the booming cackle that erupts from me.

"Wassup, Q?"

"What's up is I come to check on my girl and find your punk ass propositioning her." Q's eyes narrow into slits, his chest huffing and puffing as he stares me down. Quinton has an inch, maybe two on me. But where I'm built like a baseball pitcher, Quinton is built like a brick shit house. I have no doubt that he would pummel my ass into the ground in a heartbeat. I mean, I'd still manage to get one, maybe two, good shots in, but he'd have me destroyed in no time.

Brynn stands there, resting her weight in Quinton's arms, and watches as her boyfriend tries to intimidate me. Keeping a straight face, I stare right back. I'm not one to back down from a challenge. A few minutes pass—okay, a few seconds—before my eyes flick down to meet Brynn's gaze. Our eye connection has Q tightening his grip. In the next breath, the two of us erupt, Brynn clutching onto Quinton's arm as her body shakes in hysterics. No longer able to keep up the charade, I stick my fist out for Q to bump.

"Jesus, bro. Take that alpha-male bullshit, and get the fuck out." My grin takes over my face, and I can't help but laugh harder when I watch the serious expression melt off his face into pure confusion.

"You're such a pain in my ass, Jacobs," Q grates, finally hitting my fist with his.

I watch as Brynn turns her body in his arms. She glides her hands up his arms, over his chest, before finally resting them behind Q's head. "Relax, Q. You know I've only got eyes for you."

His lips find hers and suddenly the room feels a bit too small for the three of us. Clearing my throat, I glance around the room before mumbling, "I'm just gonna…" I let the words trail off as I point over my shoulder. Leaving the two love birds alone, I continue my search for the booze.

I found the booze. Oh, did I find it. I am drunk, working my way to wasted.

The alcohol has spread through my veins leaving me in a state of blissful intoxication. Music is pumping from the speakers, the beat flowing through me. I don't know if my heart is beating from the alcohol, the music, or the adrenaline, but my blood is flowing.

The party isn't showing any signs of ending. The crowd has thrown the ‘E-A-G! L-E-S! Eagles! Eagles! Eagles!' chant out only a hundred thousand times. This campus was desperate for a championship trophy, and we are fully embracing the celebrations.

A few of the more popular football players—Quinton; Tyler Harris, the quarterback; Jeremiah Prince, dubbed JP, one of the defensive backs; Crew Riggsby, a tight end; and a few others—all participated in their best touchdown celebration dances.

It helps that Monica has found her way back in my grip. At this point in the night, it's welcomed. We both know how we are ending this party.

The music changes to a Drake and 21 Savage song. The beat is sick, and Monica must feel it too. She's backing her ass up against my dick and moving her hips to the beat. Goddamn, this girl can move. It's one of the reasons why I slept with her the first night. She knows what to do in bed. That might make me sound like a douche, but I don't even care. It's the truth. Even if, for me, it's all she's good for.

Gripping her hips tighter, I pull her in closer, driving my hardening cock into her ass. I feel the moan reverberate through her body.

Leaning forward, I brush my lips against her ear. "One more night?"

She nods her response. Spinning her, I grab her wrists, gliding them up until they are wrapped around my neck erasing the space between us. She moves and grinds her hips to my front.

Heated eyes find mine, no doubt covered in a glassy film from all of the alcohol I've consumed. "You know how to work your body."

With that praise, she's pulling my face to hers. Our lips find each other, only this time it's in a welcomed kiss. With a flick of my tongue against the seam of her lips, I prompt her to open for me. My tongue dives into her mouth, and I don't fight the groan that escapes. One of her arms slowly slips from around my neck, gliding across my chest, and brushing the zipper of my pants. My cock twitches at the contact.

Tongues tangling, I welcome the very public, very graphic display of affection. Getting lost in the moment, I skate my hands from her hips and grip her round globes, pulling her harder to me.

A minute later, Monica is stumbling into me. Breaking our kiss to catch us both from falling over, I'm just about to turn and have words with the dick who bumped into us only to see golden hair flying through the door. The smell invades my senses.

Lilies.

Sandalwood.

Wildflowers.

Her.