Page 77 of Necessary Roughness
Logan:Penis Storage Facility?
Me:Hmm, I like the sound of that. PSF for short. Feels like that creative writing class is paying off. You could be a writer.
Logan:If this whole football thing doesn’t pan out!
A new text message popped up on my phone, notifying me of a new alert on my student file. Normally I would have ignored it until tomorrow, but a growing sense of dread filled me. This wasn’t normal.
“Let me borrow that,” I said, snatching Logan’s phone from his hand and walking away until I found a somewhat-quiet spot in the laundry room.
I never heard the guys approach until Logan said, “Oh, sonowyou want a smart phone. I agreed to let you use my body as much as you want, but I didn’t think that deal extended to technology, too.”
“You okay?” Knox asked.
“I just received an alert in the student portal,” I said in disbelief. “Morgan, my roommate, has filed a formal complaint against me. She wants to take me to mediation next week!”
“For what?” Knox asked.
“Apparently she feels unsafe because of a visitor I had over recently.”
“What the fuck!” Logan said. “She was asleep when I came over last night, and I left before she woke up.”
Knox rounded on his friend. “You hooked up with Sloane last night?”
Logan ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. “I couldn’t sleep. Are you mad?”
“Kind of,” Knox said, although a half-smile spread across his lips. “I would’ve joined you.”
“On Thursday you were firm about not breaking curfew,” I pointed out.
“And I spent all of Thursday night and all day Friday wishing I had bent my rule a little,” Knox said. “We’re off-topic. Your roommate is taking you to mediation? What does that mean?”
“The mediator will assess her complaint,” I read from Logan’s phone. “And then further mediation or punishment will be prescribed? What the hell?”
Logan took his phone back from me, reading the page. “Oh damn. I fucked you so good you might get kicked out of school.”
“I won’t get expelled,” I said. “But I could be put on academic probation, or forced to move out.”
“Getting away from that psycho would be a win in my book,” Logan said.
“Except all the senior apartments are full. I’d probably be sent to one of the freshman dorms.” I shivered. Sharing a bathroom was bad, but sharing a bedroom was so much worse. Especially since I had a pressing need for privacy.
“I’ll worry about this tomorrow,” I said with a sigh. “How about you take me back to your place and take my mind off things?”
“Done,” Logan said, gulping down the rest of his beer and placing his red solo cup on top of the washer. “Let’s get out of here.”
But Knox was staring down at me with a curious expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“If this sounds crazy, then blame it on the beer,” Knox said slowly. “But why don’t you move in with us?”
32
Sloane
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I asked the next morning. I was in bed with Knox, cuddling against his hard, warm body. After the three of us lost ourselves in the mindless drive of our bodies last night, Knox demanded I sleep—actuallysleep—in his bed since Logan got to cuddle with me on Friday night.
“Not only do I not mind,” he whispered in the morning twilight, “I think it’s a perfect solution. We have a spare bedroom because of a player that transferred to Florida State at the last minute, and was never back-filled. You get away from your shitty roommate. And the three of us are closer together, which makes the logistics of our arrangement much simpler. Now instead of texting us, you can just walk five feet down the hall and knock on the door anytime you want to get dicked down.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” I giggled, then pushed up onto an elbow to stare down at him. “Promise me one thing.”
