Page 18 of Trust Me Always

“Boner. Fide. As in boner inducing. As in dudes will be getting hard anytime you?—”

“I think I get it.” I smile, shaking my head. “Honestly, I only took that class this summer because I was bored. Ari stayed with Noah most of the time, and you guys were doing all your offseason training shit, so when Paige told me about the little studio near hers offering it right there in Oceanside, I figured why not. We signed up that same day.”

“So what you’re telling me is I should tell Chase that Paige has magic hands too?”

My mouth gapes and I slap him, sliding off his ass so I’m beside him and can meet his eye, a laugh bubbling up my throat. “Oh my. Shit, I fucking knew it! He wants to bone her down, doesn’t he?”

Brady’s whole body shakes with his chuckle, and he shifts, lifting an arm and tugging me up higher so we’re face-to-face. “I mean that’s the vibe I get, and I can usually tell when someone’s fuck meter is full, but I mean, if I asked him, he’d probably say he more wants to strangle her than straddle her.”

“And because you’re a fantastic fucking friend, you would then remind him that that very frame of mind will lead to the best of sex.” I smile wide.

Brady coughs and releases me, pushing up and swinging his legs off the bed. “What are friends for, right?”

Why does that sound so evasive?

I push up into a sitting position, meeting his eyes when he glances at me over his shoulder.

“Come on, girl. Let’s get some food and get to the party before all the good beer is gone.”

I roll my eyes but do as he says. “We’re in college, Brady. There is no such thing as good beer.”

I slide my boots back on, checking myself quickly in the long mirror as Brady pulls on some pants and tugs a T-shirt over his head. He runs his fingers through his golden-boy, dirty-blond hair and gives his head a little shake.

“Do you even have to try and get laid, or do girls just fall from the sky and land on your dick?”

“What the fuck?” Brady laughs, looking up at me as he drops down to put on his shoes.

“You’re like hot jock mixed with the naughty pool boy. Like Scott Eastwood, theSuicide SquadandThe Longest Rideversions mashed together. But somehow even hotter.”

“Somehow, huh?” He climbs to his feet, making a show of running his hands down his torso and doing a little stripper hip roll.

“Okay, Magic Mike. Save it for the dance floor.” I head for the door, and Brady reaches past me, tugging it open.

Once outside, I let out a little yawn and Brady laughs, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Food first?”

“Food first.”

The two of us head over to the small pizza place across the road, and just as we’re walking through the doors, the others call, saying they’re starving too.

Forty-five minutes later, we’re sitting on the patio of the place with our best friends, a couple pitchers of beer being passed between us and three empty pizza trays.

We never make it to the party.

And I forget to remember that this time last year, I was like Ari and Payton and had a man I considered my own.

I’m oh for two at college.

Here’s to hoping junior year won’t make it three.

CHAPTER SIX

Brady

The treadmill slowsas I switch it into cool down mode, and I tug my earbuds from my ears, letting the wires hang from the lip of my hoodie. The gym was pretty empty the first forty or so minutes I was here, but people started shuffling in about twenty minutes ago, and in another twenty, there will be so many that some will be waiting around for certain machines. Yet another reason I like to be the first through the doors each morning.

That and I don’t sleep all that much. When I was younger, my mom would have to give me melatonin to get me to pass out, and even then, it still took me a few hours of staring at the dark ceiling and counting the number of times the fan went around before I’d pass out. It didn’t matter how early I woke that day or how much I ran around and let out energy, my brain just never could quite shut itself off.

Now that I’m older, it’s not so much that it’s hard to fall asleep but hard to stay asleep. Hence the four a.m. mental wake-up call.

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