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On the Sideline (BSU Football Book 3)

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by JB Salsbury




  On the Sideline

  JB Salsbury

  Copyright © 2020 by JB Salsbury

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Also by JB Salsbury

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Bex

  Matter is defined by anything that has mass and takes up space. Mass is the amount of matter in an object. Volume is the amount of space something occupies.

  According to science, I exist. And yet, I’m completely invisible.

  A sorority party might seem like a strange place to contemplate my existence, but with every party the Eta Pi house hosts I find I blend into the walls.

  Is it possible to have matter and not actually matter?

  Oh God, enough with the pity party. I sip my Seagrams Jamaican Me Happy wine cooler and wonder if it’ll start Jamaican me happy. I check my watch and groan. It’s only ten o’clock and Eta Pi party rules insist all sisters remain social until midnight. I stare longingly at the ornate staircase that leads to the second floor and my room, wondering if anyone would even notice if I snuck away.

  I consider it, look around the crowded living room, and deflate when I see my cousin Riley, Eta Pi President, smile shitilly at me. I roll my eyes and slump back against the couch. I hadn’t noticed how close I had scooted to the edge in anticipation of making a break for it.

  “Who am I kidding,” I mumble to myself. “I’m stuck here.”

  I search for something to do, something more engaging than staring at my knees while wishing for time to pass. My sorority sister Meegan is holding court near the dining room, her big personality and fake smile attracts people in droves. I rub my nose, push up my glasses and wonder if that’s my problem—I don’t smile enough. I turn to a huddle of three frat guys next to me and smile as big as Meegan. One laughs, the other shrinks away, and the last smiles back awkwardly the way one would to a child who just peed her pants. I drop the act and turn back to my knees, pick at the label on my bottle, tug at the collar of my Eta Pi sweatshirt, pull off my glasses to rub my eyes, and crack my neck. I check my watch again. Only fifteen minutes later than the last time I checked. I drop my head back to rest on the couch. “Why am I here?”

  No, not why am I at this party. In order to stay in Eta Pi I’m required to attend all social events.

  Not even why am I in Eta Pi, that’s easy. My family insists. There is no option but to pledge my grandmother’s, mother’s, aunts, and now cousin’s sorority. It’s a prerequisite for being a Thunderbird.

  What I mean is why am I on this earth? Is my sole purpose to take up space? Because that’s all I’ve been doing since I arrived at Bear State University a year and a half ago.

  In that time I’ve made only two friends. This is not the college experience that was promised to me. I was told in college people would like me for me, that I no longer had to worry about not looking like every other midriff baring, wedge sandal wearing, bleached blonde beauty in Southern California. Don’t worry, Bexley, in college you’ll find your people.

  But tonight is no different than the hundreds of other nights before this. I remain nothing more than a piece of furniture.

  At least I have my snakes. They seem to be the only creatures that understand me. Gee, Bex, it’s no wonder you’re alone.

  No shit.

  Loren

  The very beautiful Riley Thunderbird is splitting in two and coming in and out of focus. Her dark brown eyes split into four and morph back to a hazy two. The whole funhouse effect is making my stomach uneasy. I groan and rub my eyes, unsteady on my feet, I reopen my lids to keep upright. I’m an idiot.

  I told myself not to get wasted tonight. Our last football game of the season was yesterday and me and my teammates have been hammered ever since. I made a vow before the game that I would not participate in the weekend-long binge drinking for one reason. Riley Thunderbird.

  She’s the president of the Eta Pi sorority and the hottest woman in the room. She’s like if Selena Gomez and Kylie Jenner had a love child—dark hair like silk, deep pools of molten chocolate eyes, and dark pink pillows for lips. We’ve been kind of seeing each other casually for weeks now, I was hoping tonight would be the night we’d take things a little further. That’s all shot to shit now that I can hardly stay upright without the assistance of the wall at my back. And is it just me or does that damn wall keep shifting.

  Even as drunk as I am, there’s a sense of urgency that tells me to get home before I embarrass myself. None of my roommates are anywhere nearby, or maybe I’m just too drunk to pick them out of all the blurry faces. I hang my arm over Riley and whisper in her ear, “Hey.”

  “Oh God,” she says, struggling under my weight. “You’re a mess.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” I try to shift a little off of her, but end up throwing myself in the opposite direction and stumbling. “I need to go home.”

  Her pretty lips turn into a pout and I want to bite them so I make a chomping motion with my teeth and smirk.

  “Wow, yeah you do.”

  “I just need to call…” It takes me too long to fish my phone from my jeans pocket, and I flip it over, backwards and upside down waiting for the screen to light up. “What the hell…”

  She takes it from me, looks at it, then hands it back with amusement in her eyes. “It's dead.”

  “Shiiiiiiiit.” I drop my head back and immediately regret it when I have to throw my arms out to regain my equilibrium.

  “Just go crash in my room for a couple hours. I’ll see if I can find any of your roommates.” She grabs me by the shoulders and guides me toward the stairs. “I’ll send them up to get you as soon as I find one.”

  Sleep, yes. That’s all I need. A catnap to sober up. I take the bannister with two hands and pull myself up the stairs to the long hallway lined with doors on both sides. I remember which door is Riley’s, we’ve spent a few nights on her bed kissing until my lips would go numb.

  I push into the dark room and feel around the wall for a light switch. Finding nothing, I say fuck it, pull my shirt off, toe-off my shoes, and strip out of my jeans. The edge of her mattress is easy to find and I drop face first onto the sweet smelling bedding before slipping away into oblivion.

  Later on, without a clue to how much time has passed, I wake to the feeling of a soft touch on my thigh. I must not have been asleep for that long because I don’t question where I am or how I got here. I’m in Riley’s room and she must’ve come up from the party, seen me nearly naked on her bed, and couldn’t resist the opportunity to get her hands on me. Her touch has me smiling into the dark even though my eyes are still closed. My head is a little clearer, but I’m absolutely still very much drunk. We won’t go all the way when I’m not in full control of my faculties, but I don’t see anything wrong with letting her cop a feel. It feels so good as her delicate, exploring fingers slide up my inner thigh. “Mmm, that feels nice.”

  Her hand freezes at the sound of my voice.
>
  I blink open my eyes and find the room isn’t as dark as it once was. In the corner of the small room there’s a light—no, a glass box of some kind that is lit up. An aquarium? Terrarium. I don’t remember Riley having any pets.

  I attempt to sit up.

  “Don’t. Move.”

  The authoritative voice that is laced with warning freezes me in place.

  “Be very, very still,” the voice says, a little calmer now but still carrying a heavy sense of danger. “He won’t hurt you if you don’t scare him.”

  I look toward the voice, but she’s hiding in the shadows. “Him?” I feel the lukewarm shape on my thigh and realize my mistake. It’s not a woman’s hand. “What is it?”

  “Shhh, don’t even talk. I think…” She swallows thickly. “You’ll be okay. He’s hunting.”

  “What for?”

  “Food.”

  A wheeking sound of terror escapes my lips.

  “Don’t do that,” she hisses. “You sound like a wounded mouse. Now listen to me very carefully.”

  I nod ever so slightly holding each and every muscle in my body perfectly still.

  “He hasn’t been fed in ten days. He’s very hungry and probably willing to sink his fangs into anything with a pulse.”

  I feel whatever it is moving again, sliding further up my thigh to the space between my hip and dick. My brain makes a quick assessment—terrarium, no legs, no fur…oh God. “S-s-snake,” I squeak.

  “What did I tell you about making those noises,” she whisper-yells. “Listen to me. Snakes have bad eyesight; they hunt by scenting the air with their tongues. You do not want to give off the scent of panic and a racing pulse or he might confuse you for a dying animal. Keep your heart rate steady.”

  I blow out what is meant to be a calming breath, but sounds more like an audible shiver.

  “Focus on my voice…”

  I nod and close my eyes, my hands fist the bedding at my sides, and the thing starts to move again. “Get it off me,” I whisper.

  “I can’t. If I try to grab him, he might lash out fangs first. You’re totally safe…I think. I mean, snakes don’t eat humans. Oh wow, he’s headed toward your…um…”

  I lock my throat closed to keep down a high-pitched shriek of fear.

  “It’ll be alright. They eat baby rats so as long as you don’t have anything that resembles a nest of warm, baby, hairless rats in your underwear, you should technically be okay.”

  I manscaped in anticipation for my night with Riley—my eyes pop wide open.

  “They’re ambush predators so if he was going to attack, he’d clamp down hard with his fangs and then—”

  “Please stop,” I whisper as quietly as I can. My dick is about to die and get eaten by a fucking snake. I may never use him again. Why didn’t I appreciate the last good time we had together? All the good times we’ve had together? A tear escapes my eye and rolls down my temple.

  A flick of a switch and the room is revealed under fluorescent light…not Riley’s room. And that’s not Riley glaring down at me through thick, smudged up glasses. “You mind telling me what you’re doing in my bed, jock?” There’s no more kindness or caution in her voice, no panic or concern. Just straight up annoyance.

  I try my best to look down my body without any sudden movements, and see the massive bump of snake coiled right next to my dick and balls…well, to be fair, my ball sac. It’s inhabitants retreated into my stomach minutes ago.

  Her eyes narrow. “I know you.”

  “What?” I mouth, mostly silently, nothing more than a puff of shallow air.

  “You’re Rowan and Emery’s roommate, you play football.”

  “Yes, yeah, that’s me….” Please save me, I implore with my eyes. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  She pulls a chair from across the room, the scrape of it’s metal legs against the tile sends my pulse through the top of my head. She flips the chair around, and straddles the back like a man. “You’re sorry for what? Trespassing? Getting naked in my room?” Her big eyes squint into slivers behind her thick glasses. “Are you some kind of sick pervert?” She eyes the bed and frowns. “You didn’t rub one off in my bed, did you? Because I swear to God, if you did—”

  “No. No. No.” I am trying my best to stay calm but there’s still a hungry fucking snake with fangs cuddling my cock. “I thought it was Riley’s room.”

  “What?” she says way too fucking loudly, making the animal twitch and my stomach cave in on itself.

  “Shhh, please.” The thing slithers along my groin. “Oh God, it’s moving.”

  “You thought you were in Riley’s room? The three snake habitats didn’t give that away?” She tilts her head, her massive crown of messy curls looking a lot like that rats nest she mentioned earlier. “Are you blind?”

  My chest bounces with short, quick breaths. “Drunk.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Was.” The one word sounds like the air release from a balloon valve.

  She seems to think that over for a bit. Take your fucking time, sweetheart. Her gaze drops to my chest, my abdomen, and then my boxer shorts where she sighs heavily. “Alright, I believe you.” She slips her hands into my boxers and I gasp and nearly pass out as I anticipate the sharp sting of fangs in my softest of soft spots. “He’s innocent, Monty.” The serpent she pulls from my underwear is white and yellow and looks as long as my arm. I nearly black out, but adrenaline has me in flight mode, and I scramble to sit up. I cup my junk protectively while watching as the thing coils around her forearm, and she kisses the slimy beasts head.

  Stomach bile surges in my throat bathing the back of my tongue in day-old whiskey, but I’m helpless to look away from the horror movie going on in front of me.

  “Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy, that’s right,” she says in baby talk. “You’re the goodest boy.” She kisses the thing one last time then returns it to its home and then whirls around to face me.

  “You’re disgusting.”

  Her expression falls and I catch a glint of pain in her eyes before her spine snaps straight and she points firmly to the door. “Get the fuck out.”

  Okay, so maybe I should’ve reconsidered my first words a little more carefully, but come on! I just survived a near dick-death experience. Show a guy a little fucking mercy.

  “Gladly.” I hurl myself off the bed with a little too much force, adrenaline still fueling my muscles, I gather my jeans and shoes and throw open the door only to have it slam so hard behind me that I have to jump forward to keep it from hitting my ass. “Fucking psycho,” I mutter under my breath as I drop my shoes and slide on my jeans. I must’ve forgotten my shirt in the grab and go, but screw it. Small price to pay for the safety of my testicles.

  “Oh my God,” a female voice says from behind me.

  I turn around, jeans open and barefoot to find one of Riley’s sorority sister’s poking her head into the hallway.

  Her eyes are huge and her lips parted in shock. “Lyla, get out here.” The two roommates emerge from their room. The second one’s eyes are tight slits as she swings her gaze between me and the door I’m closest too. “You and Bex?”

  “What? No—”

  “Rylie is going to shit,” the first one says.

  Another room opens and a girl steps into the hallway rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “We just caught Loren McCallister sneaking out of Bex’s room naked.”

  “I’m not naked.” I button up the fly of my jeans as quickly as I can with fading adrenaline and the hangover shakes. I’m never drinking again! “I didn’t touch that girl.” I slip my shoes on as best I can while scurrying to the stairway.

  “Good for Bex,” one girl says.

  “Riley is going to kill her,” another says.

  I race down the stairs and out into the night pissed that I have to walk home because my stupid cell phone is dead. A thought has me slamming to a halt on the sidewalk and I pat my pocket. No phone.


  “Oh, come on!” I turn around and look back at the Eta Pi house questioning the pros vs cons of going back in to retrieve the device and decide against it.

  Not worth it.

  I’d planned on waking up in Rylie’s bed this morning, not doing the walk of shame after being in bed with a snake.

  Worst. Night. Ever.

  Chapter Two

  Bex

  Classes are a refreshing break from the sorority house. Not only do I get freedom from the fifty-four girls that I live with, but I also get a reprieve from talking about The Bachelor, Kardashians, and whatever celebrity was recently on Ellen.

  The ecology department at Bear State is on the far side of campus in an older building that was untouched during the multi-million dollar campus overhaul ten years ago, so it’s mostly a ghost town. The only people found milling about are zoology students and we’re a unique bunch. Most of us prefer the company of animals and insects to our human counterparts and we’d rather drink day old black coffee from the pot than make the trek to the state of the art coffee shop across campus.

  However, I have made two friends outside of the sorority and they both work at the coffee shop so I’ve been lugging myself across the campus divide to meet them for a tea every Monday.

  I catch sight of Rowan’s red hair, made even fierier in the southern California sun. She waves when she sees me coming and I see she’s ordered my gigantic iced black tea. I drop my heavy book bag onto the concrete and collapse on the bench next to her. “How is it sixty degrees and I’m sweating?”

  She slides the frosty drink in front of me. “Could have something to do with the fact that you’re wearing a sweatshirt and just carried a thirty pound bag of books all the way across campus?”

 

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