Page 20 of The P*ssy Next Door

“You're the best of us all, man. Anyone who is resentful of that needs to take a long look at themselves. And I, for one, like it way better when other people are looking at me.” He pointed his fork at a girl at another table and winked at her. She rolled her eyes but smiled at him. “And when I say other people, I mean the ladies.”

Gryff shook his head. “We know, dude. Everyone knows. You just let me know when you can get the shes, theys, and gays sliding into your DMs.”

“Just because you're bi and I'm not, doesn't mean you get more action than I do.” Flynn stuck his fork into his pie with way more force than was necessary. Even in matters of love—or bed—they were competitive, but supportive.

“Xander's always been a bit... intense.” Gryff looked at me and ignored Flynn's pout. “We knew he had a bug up his ass about something, but we never guessed it was about you.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I fucking hate the thought that I might have hurt you guys, even unintentionally.”

Flynn leaned forward, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Hayes, listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You earned that spot in the draft honestly. Anyone who says otherwise is jealous or delusional or both.”

“Especially Xander,” Gryff chimed in. “I love the guy when he's scoring a ridiculous number of points, but he's got a real problem with always wanting to be top dog. Your success probably just rankled him.”

Right. Xan always pushed the edges of extreme, which I'd always assumed was the same kind of passion for the game that I had. Competitiveness could be one hell of a bitch if you let it get under your skin. My brothers' support and validation that I wasn't the bad guy here meant more than I could say.

“Okay. I needed to hear that.”

Flynn grinned, signaling the waitress for another round of coffees. “Anytime, bro. Now, onto more important matters...” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “What's this I hear about you and a certain barista getting cozy?”

I nearly choked on my coffee. “What? How did you?—”

“Please,” Gryff scoffed, smirking. “You think news like that doesn't travel faster than a wide receiver on game day? Spill, lover boy.”

Flynn and Gryff peppered me with good-natured teasing and increasingly invasive questions. I remained closed-lipped, giving them nothing more than a grin. I was a hundred percent sure I knew who'd told them about Willa anyway, and Jules was eternally exempt from all repercussions of being the family gossip.

They gave up when it was clear I wasn't going to be the kind to kiss and tell, and after another piece of pie each, we headed for the parking lot.

“Uh, bro. Is there a cat in your ride?” Gryff pointed to my car, and yep, sure enough, a certain gray and white furball was sitting on my dashboard like an off-brand guard dog.

“Shit. How the hell did he get in there?” I sprinted over and carefully opened the door, hoping he wasn't going to make a run for it. I could never face Willa again if I lost her cat on the DSU campus. “Gotta go, guys. I need to see a girl about her cat.”

Gryff was already laughing his ass off, and Flynn shook his head. “That had better be code for getting laid.”

I wished it was. Wait, it could be. All depended on what happened when I arrived at Willa's door.

Seven, my favorite little escape artist, climbed up on my shoulder and meowed like he was either having the time of his life or hated me for taking him home. I couldn't tell which.

“You're lucky you're cute,” I informed him, reaching up to scratch his chin. “And that your mom is even cuter.”

I pulled up to Willa's house, a man with a plan. This was the part where I swept her off her feet. Maybe literally if she let me. I scooped up Seven and marched to her front door, rapping my knuckles against the wood, then leaned in the doorframe as if showing up unannounced with her cat in tow was what all the cool kids were doing.

The door swung open, revealing a pajama clad Willa. And holy shit was I going to have dreams of her wearing those cat nap jammies, or rather taking them off. “Hayes? What are you?—”

Her eyes landed on the furry bundle in my arms. “Seven? How did you...? You little rat, I'm going to assimilate you.”

“Found this little guy lounging in my car...”I handed him toward Willa and our fingers brushed. Electricity zinged up my arm and I almost dropped the cat to pull her to me. “Wait, wait, wait. I can't believe I didn't get this before right this second, but did you name your cat Seven because of Voyager?”

Willa laughed, cuddling Seven close. “Yes. His full name is Seven of Nine Lives. He's pursuing you like a rogue Borg cube, and I'm going to have to have a serious talk with him.”

Seven squirmed like he knew exactly what that talk was going to entail and he wanted nothing to do with it. He promptly scampered off to parts unknown. “I'm pretty sure resistance to him is futile.”

That made Willa smile, and god did I love the sparkle in her eyes and the curve of her lips.

“Listen, about earlier,” Willa began, scratching her bright blue painted toes across the doormat. “I'm sorry about Xander. He had no right to go off on you like that.”

I shrugged and put my arm up on the doorframe just to be another inch closer to her. “It's not your fault. Xan's always been competitive. I get it. But that's not going to stop me from... pursuing you.”

She'd been staring down at the rug, but her head snapped up and she stared up at me. “You, I mean, I, it's just?—”

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