Page 31 of The Penalty

Party Pooper: You really think you can pretend to be his date while you do nothing but argue?

Date? Are Rhys and Tobi dating? Does Rhys kiss Tobi like he kisses me? Is that why he didn’t fight me on keeping this under wraps?

There’s no way. Rhys is a good friend and he wouldn’t have put his dick in my mouth if he loved Tobi.

“Do you really think you are dressed like I am?” He sucks in a deep breath like he’s trying to calm himself. “This is a public event that will have reporters. It’s the first time I’m being seen with my brothers. Publicly.”

“Okay?” I ask, not sure what he’s getting at.

“Fuck it.” He turns opening the door to my room. “Let’s just go before I second guess myself.”

“What are you second guessing?”

Is he second guessing taking me as his date, not just as moral support?

I take the stairs two at a time because my Crocs are in sport mode.

“Just get in the damn car.” He’s silent for the ride, which feels weird, but if he’s jealous of my Crocs, I can send him the link to buy his own.

I’m An Olympian Bitch: date? like boyfriends?

Party Pooper: Yes!

I chew on the inside of my cheek. Crap on a cracker. Do I need to pretend to be his boyfriend? Is that what he expects from me? People will see us. Can I risk this getting back to the boys?

We’ve been in the car for about ten minutes when he finally says, “You have to own a suit.”

“Of course I do.”

“Why didn’t you put it on?”

“Because that’s for hockey.”

My phone rings, filling the car with a loud “Neeeeerd!”

I dig it out of my jeans, which are stiff and uncomfortable, and answer Tobi’s call on speaker. “Sup bro-seph?”

“Turn on your camera,” Tobi’s croaky voice demands.

Rhys leans toward my phone and says, “You have theworsttiming!”

“It’s not like I planned this!”

Rhys snatches the phone from me. “Do you know what he’s wearing?”

“No, but I can imagine…” Tobi sighs. “Send me a picture.”

Rhys gets his phone and snaps a few pictures and sends them.

A disgusted groan fills the car as the car pulls to a stop in front of a new building with a bunch of people wandering around.

“This is your fault!” Rhys snaps and ends the call, shoving my phone into my chest.

“That was rude. You didn’t even say bye.”

“I swear to fuck—” Rhys is cut off by the door opening and him climbing out.

I slide out after him and take a look around. We’re on the New York Gods campus, which makes me itchy. And hard weirdly. Stupid jersey fantasy.

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