Page 87 of Catch
“Then show me to your bedroom.”
He tugs my hand, and I follow him through the living room. Only, we pass by the stairs to the second floor…
“Um, where are we going?” I whisper.
He steers me to the kitchen. Archie and Hudson are standing on one side of the kitchen island, Reese and Marshall on the other. They’re all doing shots.
“Hey, guys,” Ethan calls out.
They turn to look at us and start laughing.
“What?” I ask.
“Is wrestling now your sport?” Hudson quips.
I look down and realize that my jeans have grass stains—and cum stains too—my shirt is rumpled and sticky, and my boots are dirty. Ethan, on the other hand, looks perfect. If it weren’t for the huge grin on his face and the fact that his lips are swollen, you’d never know anything was up. Fortunately, I’m too relaxed to care what anyone thinks. Besides, I have only myself to blame; I was the one who dared him and then voluntarily got on my knees.
“Jett and I have studying to do, a lot of it,” Ethan explains with a wide grin. “You guys have a good night.”
“Night?” Marshall chuckles. “It’s only afternoon.”
I feel rude for leaving my friends like this, and for a moment I’m flooded with guilt.
Archie, who knows me so well, motions with his hand. “Go on, you two. Have fun.”
Reese stares at me.
“I’ll see you next week?”
“Definitely. Maybe we can get the crews together for a party?”
“Open house every night,” Ethan adds. “Consider this U Conn’s invite.”
“Thanks,” Reese replies with a nod. “I look forward to it.”
“See you then.”
Ethan tugs my hand, and we make our way back through the house and up the stairs to the second floor. The house is quiet, but it’s Sunday, so most of his frat brothers are probably studying and getting ready for the week ahead.
“Mine is the last one on the right.”
We head down the hallway, and when he opens the door, I’m not surprised at how big the space is. It’s triple the size of my dorm room and has a large window that looks out over the back yard. There’s a queen-sized bed covered in a thick navy duvet, two comfy lounge chairs in the opposite corner, and a desk that’s littered with papers and books piled high. The walls are covered in all kinds of hockey paraphernalia, including posters and pictures. Numerous trophies sit on the dresser as well as pictures of what I assume is Ethan’s family, or at least, his siblings. I don’t see any of his parents.
Suddenly I’m nervous as hell. Being in his room feels… intimate. Personal.
Then I remember that this is Ethan, and I glance at the bed again. He’s probably had dozens of partners in here. My stomach flips over when reality hits. It shouldn’t bother me that I’m another notch on his belt, but it does.
“It’s kind of chaotic, like me, but it’s home. For now.”
“I like it.” I force myself to speak. “And after a dorm bed, yours looks like a luxury.”
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
He walks over to the desk, and it’s only then that I notice the small fridge hidden underneath.
“I’ve got Gatorade and water. And a couple of meatball subs.”
“Subs?”
