Abby Ryan has her whole life planned out, up until graduation that is. As a journalism student at the University of Southern Washington, she has one goal in mind for her last semester of senior year: secure a scholarship for graduate school. But whe...
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It's nearly two in the morning, but thanks to the Red Bull I've been chugging as a chaser all night, I'm fucking wired.
My heart is racing in my chest, and my leg is bouncing quickly in tandem, attempting to burn through some of the pent-up energy flooding my veins as I sit on the couch. I know Abby can feel the movement of my leg since she's sitting next to me, but she doesn't turn around to tell me to chill the hell out; instead, she leans back and places her hand on my knee, stilling my manic bouncing. When her eyes meet mine, I see the hint of humor gleaming there, and I relax back into the couch, focusing on how her thumb is now making slow, calming circles on my jean-clad knee.
When her eyes settle back on Jenny beside her, I glance around the room to the rest of the stragglers who stayed behind when everyone else left for the frat that's currently trying to hot-box their entire house. Since we get randomly drug tested for basketball, my whole team is scattered across the living room. Most of them are spread around the TV, all trying to focus on the video game as they scream their slurred advice to Luke, which ultimately ends up getting him killed.
A few of my teammates are trying to shoot their shot with whatever girls are left, and I'm not surprised to see Micah leaning against the wall, talking to two girls who are both running their hands up and down his chest, their eyes locking together in the way that most guys only dream of. I'd be willing to bet my entire bank account that my boy is about to have a threesome, which is all but confirmed when the blonde reaches over and connects her lips with the redhead while her hand skims down Micah's stomach.
I make eye contact with Emery on the other end of the couch with Nia on his lap; he's giving me the universal nice, a threesome grin. I shake my head and snort at the unspoken language we all seem to have, but I guess that's what happens when you spend four hours together nearly every day.
His grin widens when Nia leans in and whispers something in his ear, and when his eyes flick up to her, and he nods quickly, I don't have to guess what that's about because she stands up and walks toward us, bending down to eye level with Abby.
"I'm going home with Nate, babe."
Abby glances over Nia's shoulder to my teammate, who's now corralling the rest of the guys by the TV toward the door. I've never actually seen the other end of these conversations. I'm usually the one waiting for the girl to finish talking to her friends so that we can go back to her place and fuck.
"I've gone home with him a few times before. He's not a serial killer or anything. Plus, it's just down the street." She laughs, clearly seeing the hesitation on Abby's face.
"Okay." She nods. "But still keep your location on, and call me if you need anything, okay?"
I stand up and walk toward the entryway where the team has started to assemble, reaching out to slap the hands of each one before they file out of the door, likely on their way back to one of the other houses on the street to keep the party going. I guess that's one of the pros of your entire team living on the same street: that and the never-ending supply of protein powder.
