Page 92 of Worthy

I hate this uncertainty. It makes me fucking edgy.

“What the hell does that mean? I should go make him talk to me, right?”

“Uh no.” Brent scoffs like I’m a dumbass. “Sounds like he needs some space. You know, that thing you aren’t good at? Let the guy breathe.”

“Fuck you!” I snap. I’m so keyed up I can’t sit still. I need to do something.

Brent laughs. “Seriously. Sounds like the guy has some baggage, and you need to tread carefully, or you’ll scare him off.”

“Or I could convince him his baggage doesn’t matter,” I throw back.

“Yeah? Had a lot of deep convos in between the fucking and blow jobs? He trusts you enough to be vulnerable?”

“What the hell do you know about dating guys? You’ve never done it.”

He rolls his eyes. “People are people. Treat them with respect, you asshole.”

I drop my head back on my shoulders and groan. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, sure you do. When you’re getting laid by this guy you’re already obsessing over in a week, you can thank me.” The fucker hangs up on me, and I chuck my phone on the bed. What a little fuckhead.

Chapter four

Nick

Later that night, with a red plastic cup full of beer in my hand, I watch as the freshman and sophomores who are still here for winter interim run up and down the hallway of the jock building, screaming like banshees. Most students went home for the holidays already, but since not everyone can afford to fly home, there are always a few stragglers. I’m one of them. Plus, my parents’ house is full of kids. They don’t need another body in there or another mouth to feed.

I love my parents, they’re good people. They take in older foster kids that are hard to find placements for. They’re good kids usually, just misunderstood and abused. It’s hard to connect with them sometimes since they have walls up to protect themselves, but it’s always been worth the effort. Brent was once a foster kid in our house. He was with us for all our high school years, and since we got along so well, I shared a room with him. Mom and Dad never forced me to share my room since having the foster kids was their choice, but Brent and I were thick as thieves. He stayed in Washington for school while I got a full ride to Colorado, but I talk to him daily.

There’s music playing from a speaker someone has set in a doorway, there are people everywhere, rolls of toilet paper being thrown around, and someone is puking, but I can’t see them. My room isn’t on this floor, so I don’t care. Puke is not my problem tonight.

Unless it’s one of my freshmen. Fuck.

Straightening up off the wall, I follow the sound of vomiting down the hallway, avoiding the couples hooking up and the dude passed out on the floor. He’s not a football player, so he’s not my problem.

I pull a condom out of my pocket and slap it against the chest of one of my freshman teammates.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I tell him and watch the girl for a second to make sure she’s sober enough for consent.

She lifts an eyebrow at me. “What?”

“How many drinks have you had?” I ask her, but she doesn’t look intoxicated at all.

“One.”

“Cool.” I nod and pat Chad’s shoulder. He reaches for the girl’s hand, and they disappear into a room. I make it a few more doors down the hallway before I find the puking kid and the one man I want to see, Joey Carpenter. I can picture how his shaggy brown hair hangs down around his collar, sharp green eyes taking in everything around him, and his cheekbones that were chiseled from granite. He’s standing with his back to me, arms crossed over his chest, and he lets out a deep sigh.

This is the side of him I haven’t gotten to witness yet, and I’m hungry for it.

“I swear to fuck, Riggs.” Joey shakes his head. Riggs is not one of mine, but he is an idiot, and finding some of my dumbasses with him is not uncommon. Normally, the guys stick with teammates since that’s who we all know the best, but since a lot of freshmen have to take the same classes, some of the guys on the team have started hanging around the hockey players.

I slap Joey’s back in solidarity, and he glances back at me. His eyes go wide in alarm for a split second before he covers it with the captain mask he’s wearing so well. I can see on his face that he feels the weight of responsibility. He’s one of those that wants to save these guys from making bad decisions, but he can’t.

“Fucking freshman,” I shake my head, leaning my forearm on Joey’s shoulder when I find the kid with his head in a trashcan. “What did he drink?”

“From what I can tell, everything,” Joey bites out and pinches the bridge of his nose.

The kid groans and finally stops throwing up, dropping down to his side on the carpet.

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