Page 105 of For the Fans
“You’re a bad liar,” I murmur. “We both know this doesn’t want cheerleaders…”
“Ffuck off, Avi…” he whines.
Inching my lips up to his ear, I whisper, “I know your secret. You wanna be bent over and fucked by themascot.”
Kyran shoves me off of him, bending and picking up his towel just as footsteps and voices are echoing closer. Stepping back, I give him a satisfied smirk while he fumbles to cinch the towel around his waist and cover his obvious erection. I chuckle, biting my lip, and he scowls.
“No amount of money in the world would make me want you,” he snarls, having snapped his wrath and denial back into place.
My head slants. “Right. We’ll see about that.”
“No, we won’t,” he hisses. “You’re just a dumbass in an eagle suit.”
“Hey, you just made out with this eagle.” I grin, and he growls.
He steps forward, face flushed. “Youattackedme.”
“Oh, please.” I chuckle. “You could have pushed me away. But you didn’t…” I lean in closer to him. “Because you liked it. Just like you liked—”
“Alright, enough!” he barks as a few of his teammates are rounding the corner. Kyran glances at them, jumping back to put distance between us. “Fly away, loser. Back to your nest.”
He smirks at me like he’s proud of himself, and if I was a vindictive person, I would totally point out how desperate he was for this loser’s tongue in his mouth a minute ago.
But I won’t, because I don’t care enough. If Kyran wants to keep his hidden desires a secret,fine. If he feels like he needs to keep treating me like shit in front of his friends to make himself feel better,great.
As long as he keeps sneaking hisstraightass over to my place so we can keep making money, what do I care?
I don’t. I don’tcare.
Turning away from their laughter and mocking, I go into the bathroom to change out of this stupid costume. But when I’m all alone, with the echoes of sneers and hurtful words pulsing in my brain, convincing myself becomes just a little bit harder.
DinoDicks: Search my cave and paint the walls white
Inch3z_aplenty: You’re both so f*cking hot, my zipper is falling for you
NotAStalker: I’d let you fold me like a cheap lawn chair.
“Eat ass, bitch,” I grumble at the screen, my fingers working on the controller to smash a zombie’s head open. I bash him repeatedly with a pipe until his skull explodes into a million pieces.
I chuckle. Because it’s funny.
I’m playingThe Last of Us. After that littlemomentin the locker room, I decided I just wanted to come back to the dorm and be alone, dodging texts from my mom about meeting up for a celebratory burger. I’m not sure if she meant just me… Or me and Kyran. But there’s no way superstar would blow off a keg-sucking party filled with jocks and bimbos to hang out with his family anyway. And I’m just too tired.
Seriously, my eyes are closing while I’m playing, and by the third time I die because I’m half-conscious, I let them flutter shut and I end up passing out on the couch.
There’s a buzzing on the edge of my brain. I can’t tell if it’s happening in real life or in my cluttered dreams. But then the sound of knocking fully wakes me up.
It’s notloudknocking, but it’s definitely incessant. Sitting up, I rub the sleep from my eyes, noting the time on the clock. Two-fifteen.
Padding over to the door, I use the peephole, because I’m not exactly sure who would be showing up at this ungodly hour. Although in the back of my mind, I know who it’s going to be before I even look.
Of courseit’s Kyran. He’s standing out there, knocking and knocking, while simultaneously typing on his phone.
Letting out a sigh, I open the door. “Really? It’s the middle of the night, for fuck’s sake…”
He pushes his way past me inside, shrugging out of his coat. “I tried texting you, but you weren’t answering.”
“Because I wasasleep,” I mutter pointedly, then cross my arms. “What do you want, Kyran?”
