Page 42 of Foul Line

I turn on my side. How did all of this drama follow me to a basketball camp? It sounds like a freaking soap opera.

“Tessa,” a voice whispers.

I sit up in bed until I hear the sound again. I look toward the door and find Sloan’s adorable face looking back at me. I glare at him. “It’s past curfew. What are you doing?”

“It is past curfew, so hurry up and let me in.”

I groan, then go to the door and unlock it. As soon as I open the door, I hear the crickets as they chirp away. I have the fan on in my room, so that it drowns most of that annoying sound out while I’m trying to sleep. “What are you doing?” I ask again. He’s dressed in a wife beater and ball shorts. I love all of Sloan’s different tastes. He has the put together Senator’s son look along with the athlete look. Then there’s this haphazard outfit probably just thrown on that still makes me swim with want.

“I was just checking on you,” he says. It’s hard to tell what color his eyes are right now in the dark. But if I had to guess, they’re whatever the color concern is. Maybe a little greener than normal with smudges of brown.

“I’m fine,” I tell him.

He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t say anything more. He moves over to my bed and sits down. I stare after him, my head dropping to the side like I can’t believe he’d just invite himself onto my bed like that. He pats the mattress next to him, completely unbothered by any of it. When I sit, he turns toward me, grabbing my hands in his. “Is your mom okay?”

I blink up at him. I didn’t expect anyone to ask me that. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

“My mother’s been the other woman and met the other women,” he says softly. “She tries to pretend like it doesn’t hurt her, but I know it does.” He strokes my thumb absentmindedly. “I often wonder which one of them strayed first and how different my life would be if they weren’t cheaters and adulterers. I swear my dad’s like the butt of every joke in the senate.”

I roll my eyes at that. “I’m sure there are plenty of others just like him sitting on their high horses.”

“Apparently my dad just sucks at keeping it quiet.”

What a thing to bond over. My parents are just as fucked up as yours… Should we celebrate with a toast?

“I do know that none of them ever think about us when it’s happening. It took me a long time to realize that none of it was my fault,” Sloan says. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t make it suck any less.”

“How’d you get to be so wise, Ivy?”

“Experience,” he says. Then when that can also be turned into a sexual suggestion, he waggles his eyes up and down. “Want to see?”

I laugh and push him away playfully. “I guess you can be a nice guy when you want to be.”

“Don’t tell anyone that. It might ruin my reputation.”

“Or elevate it,” I say.

He lowers his brows. “You think girls are turned on by the term ‘nice guy’. You’re wrong.”

“I am.”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re not, Daddy’s Girl. The fact that you’re still talking to any of us is proof of that.”

“Maybe I just hold out hope for all of you.”

He places a single finger under my chin. “I’m glad you do. Someone has to.”

The way he says it makes my stomach churn. Maybe that’s the recurring theme of the Ballers’ lives. Everything they have is all superficial. Sure, they get the girls and the accolades, but the only thing they’ve ever had that’s real is one another. That’s why I threaten them. Because I want in.

The shift in me comes all of a sudden. I lean up, pressing my lips to his. I’ve thrown him off, but only for a fraction of a second. His hands dive into my hair, bringing me close to him. An almost animalistic sound of hunger escapes from his throat, making my pulse take off like rapid fire. His hands skim over my stomach, up around my rib cage, then finally to my breast. I inhale sharply.

“Oh fuck. You’re not wearing a bra.”

“I’m in my pajamas.”

He kneads my breasts, which coaxes embarrassing moans out of me. He pushes me gently until I fall back on the bed. His hand slides up under my shirt, closing around my breast. He leans over me, moving my shirt up until he’s exposed me. I feel his hot breath on me before his mouth closes around my nipple. My hips arch off the bed until his other hand catches me, forcing them back onto the mattress.

“Sloan,” I pant.

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