Boarded by Love

by Toni Aleo

  Tessi nods sagely as she moves some gloss along her bottom lip. “I would be too. Give him hell, girlfriend, but right now, you need to pop your contacts in and get onstage. Ms. Prissy hasn’t been laid in weeks, and she is in full bitch mode, I can promise you that.”

  I laugh out loud as I turn to look back at myself. I still have a lot to do. I wish I could be like Tessi and not care if someone recognizes me in this place, but it always freaks me out that Phillip could come in here, or one of his friends. I’m not ashamed of what I do by any means, but I still don’t like to advertise it. Plus, I’m not a hundred percent sure how Phillip would feel about this. Reese knows, but I’ve never brought it up to Phillip, and neither has she. But really, the thought of some guy coming up to me outside of the club is enough, so I do everything I can to change my appearance.

  Reaching for my contact case, I open it quickly, popping in my dark brown contacts to cover my bright blue eyes. Positioning some fake lashes to make my eyes look fuller, I finish my eye makeup before applying some bright red lipstick. Pursing my lips at myself, satisfied with the way I look, I smile at my reflection before standing up to get ready. Reaching for my outfit for the night, I hurry to get ready because, like Tessi said, Ms. Prissy could be a major bitch when she wasn’t getting laid regularly. After sliding the crystal-encrusted booty shorts up over my black fishnets, I slide my feet into a pair of black high heels as Tessi stands up to help me tie up the back of the crystal-studded corset.

  “Claire! Let’s go,” Ms. Prissy yells.

  Tessi laughs before swatting me on my butt. “Good luck.”

  I flash her a grin as I grab my fans and make my way to the curtain. Tonight, I’m doing an old-fashioned burlesque fan dance. I’d seen it on TV one night and then spent the next two weeks researching and rehearsing my set before I showed Ms. Prissy and management at the club. That was a year ago, and now I was the most popular act on the busiest night. I also do pole and regular burlesque dancing, but the fans are my favorite. I send Ms. Prissy an apologetic smile as I run to my mark, but all I receive back is an eye roll before she gets on the radio to let the tech guys know I’m ready. When “Diamonds” by Rihanna starts, I slowly pull the curtains back, revealing myself to the crowd as it erupts with catcalls and men hollering my name.

  Showtime.

  Oh, by the way, my name is Claire Anderson and I’m a nineteen-year-old sophomore at the University of Bellevue here in Tennessee. By night though, onstage and in this club, my name is Diamond, and I’m the best burlesque dancer at Ms. Prissy’s Gentlemen’s Club.

  Nice to meet you.

  Chapter 2

  Jude

  My lungs are burning.

  It has been a long practice and my lungs aren’t the only things that are burning, my back is too. I’m gonna need a good rubdown after this, and it can’t come fast enough. Ever since I took a hard hit into the boards a couple practices ago, my back has been tweaking. My dad told me this isn’t a big deal, to push through the pain, and maybe he’s right. This is my year. I have scouts looking at me from New York, Detroit, Minnesota, and Los Angeles. I was hoping for Detroit since it was my dream to wear the famous red and white jersey, playing for one of the first eight teams in the NHL, but really, I’d go anywhere. As long as I’m playing hockey. Professionally.

  I love the feeling I get when I step out onto the ice. The way the cool air fills my lungs, making me breathless. The smell of the ice tickling my senses before my heart begins to race from the adrenaline of dominating the ice. It has always been like that, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve loved it. I love everything about it. It is like a drug, my drug, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  I knew from a very young age that I wanted to play pro, and even though the University of Bellevue wasn’t my first-choice school, the scholarship they offered was top-notch, and soon they were my only choice. My dad told me that he would pay for the schooling wherever I wanted to go, but I didn’t want to be indebted to my father. I knew that somehow he would hold that over my head, and I didn’t want that. Plus, UB was going places and I wanted to help their hockey team, the Bullies, get there. I also didn’t want to leave my family. I would never admit that to anyone; being the oldest boy of our family, I’m supposed to the strong one – and I am – but still, I couldn’t leave my family.

  At first I didn’t want to leave my mom since my older sister Lucy and I had moved out, and my dad was always leaving for work. Then at the end of my freshman year, Lucy moved back home after a failed marriage, and she was severely depressed. She was pregnant with Angie, my niece, and her deadbeat husband left her for someone else. It sucked and I wanted to kill him, but instead, we took her back like she never left.

  My mom is a worrywart though, and sometimes she worries so much she makes herself sick, so I’m glad I’m close to home to help when I’m needed. She’s doing better because Lucy is, but it was hard when my brother Jayden moved into the frat house as a freshman at UB. He also plays with me on the Bullies. He has scouts looking at him, but like they said to me, they wanted to see how we do in college.

  My baby brother, Jace, is graduating high school this year. They say he will go straight into the draft; he’s unbelievable and his talent is awe inspiring. While Jayden and I are jealous that we’ve had to go to college first, my whole family is proud of Jace. He’s going to be a star. Hell, we all are going to be stars.

  But first, I have to finish some college, and now that I’m here, I really couldn’t think of a better school to go to. I love my team, and boy, do I love the girls at this school. I guess you could call me a ladies’ man, and I wear the label proudly. I’m not one of those guys to be tied down. What is the point? There are too many girls wanting me, and I know the numbers will triple once I go pro.

  Man, I can’t wait.

  Racing down the ice, I cut left and deke to the right before crashing the net, hoping for a rebound, but Shane, the best goalie I have ever played with, covers the puck and everyone backs away as the whistle blows. Flexing my back, hoping the tweak will go away, I look around as Coach Moss goes over the next play he wants us to carry out. Coach Moss is a great coach, but rumors are floating around that he’s going to get replaced because he’s going to move up to the NHL. I hope it happens after I’m gone because Coach Moss and I understand each other. He understands that I’m the best player on the ice, and I understand that as long as I do what he says, I could be one of the greats in the NHL. I have been playing for him for as long as I can remember, starting in the travel league alongside my brothers. He was the one who convinced the admissions committee to offer me a full scholarship.

  When the whistle blows again, I move to the face-off circle by the boards, hoping we win the face-off. We do and I get the puck before passing it off to the right winger, but then he gets stuck with the puck behind the goal. I rush toward him, digging for it before winning it and taking it out toward the front of the goal. The play called for me to pass it to my right winger again because he was lined up with an opening, but I have one too. Kinda. So I shoot, getting past the two defensemen and going right over Shane’s shoulder into the goal. My arms go up in the air as Coach Moss goes crazy, blowing his damn whistle.

  “Sinclair! Sinclair!”

  I ignore him, basking in my awesomeness as my teammates hit my shin with their sticks, celebrating an awesome goal.

  “Jude fucking Sinclair! I know you hear me!”

  I turn as Coach skates toward me, his face red with anger because, like usual, I didn’t follow the play.

  “I made it.”

  “Well, no shit, but that wasn’t the play. West was open, completely open; you had to go through two defensemen to get it in. Yeah, you got it, but this isn’t a one-man show. Go by the plays, or get off my fucking ice.”

  I hate when he gets like this.

  “But I made it, and it isn’t a one-man show if I’m winning for the team.”

  “Do you think some NHL team is going to k
eep you if you can’t go by the plays?”

  I think about that for a moment and then say, “I can go by the plays, but when I see an opening, I’m gonna shoot.”

  “There was no opening!”

  I point at him with my gloved hand. “Um…actually, there was. I made it.”

  It surprises me that Moss’s face becomes redder, but what doesn’t surprise me is when he yells, “Laps! GO!”

  I let out an aggravated sigh before skating off and doing my first of many laps.

  Man, I love hockey. Even the laps.

  Practice doesn’t get any better after that. Coach is on me, and in a way, I understand where he’s coming from – but at the same time, I fucking made it!

  With a shake of my head, I dip under the hot water of my shower, and my body instantly relaxes as the scalding water runs over my tired muscles. With the season starting in a couple weeks, Coach has us practicing every single day except Sunday. And let me just say, a five o’clock practice isn’t a joke. Especially when it is three hours long, and most the time, a lot of us have to go straight to class right afterward.

  It sucks.

  Since it’s Saturday, Coach actually allowed us to sleep in. Practice was at one in the afternoon, but it didn’t matter how late or early it was, I am still tired. All I want to do is fall into my bed and die, and that was sad because it’s a Saturday. But even if I wanted to go out, I know I couldn’t. I have homework, and if I want to keep my scholarship, I can’t blow it off. I could always get someone to do it for me, but it kind of scares me that at any time I could get hurt and my career would be over. Then what would I do? I need to make sure I study and am ready for anything at all times. I figure if I do get hurt that I wouldn’t want to leave hockey. So I’m going to UB for sports medicine, even if my father wants me to go into law like him. I don’t want to be a lawyer. My dad is a workaholic, and I refuse to be like that.

  Moving soap along my body, I close my eyes, going back under the water as the showers fill up. Since I have so much homework to do, I rush through my shower before going into the locker room to change. Even though the guys all like to socialize with each other during our showers, I don’t. I mean, I live with these knuckleheads, why the hell would I want to talk to them while I’m washing my balls?

  Reaching for my jeans, I pull them up before throwing on a tee and my Bullies sweatshirt. Shutting my locker and making sure it’s secure, I make my way out into the harsh sunlight. After my eyes adjust, I look around and regret not riding my bike over to practice. It is such a pretty, sunny day, I figured the walk would do me good, but now I just want to go home. Letting out a breath, I start toward the Bullies’ house. That’s another cool thing about Bellevue, one of the board members was a huge hockey guy, and he had a house built for the Bullies team. We’re a fraternity and it’s pretty awesome.

  Really, all of UB is awesome. It is only my sophomore year, but I’m convinced that this is the best private college in the US. We have everything a college kid needs. We have a food court with all the top fast-food chains in America, along with spots for those kids who don’t eat meat. We have a little shopping mall, bookstores, and even a campus grocery store. The classrooms at UB really don’t feel like classrooms. They are open, with big windows lining the walls and state-of-the-art technology throughout the whole campus. The sport facilities are top-of-the-line with everything an athlete would need. I don’t know how the dorms are since I never lived in one, but for the fraternities and sororities, housing is downright awesome. It’s like we’re in our own little world; the only thing missing is a club on campus, but thankfully, there are a bunch of college clubs within walking distance from the Bullies’ house.

  “Hey, Jude.”

  I look up from checking my Facebook on my phone to see a group of girls waving at me. They are some of the Bullies’ dancers, Amy, Rachael, and Maddie. I have slept with Maddie and Rachael, but Amy is untouchable since she’s basically engaged to Shane Patrick, the Bullies’ goalie. I flash them a lady-killing smile and am about to go over there to chat when my phone starts to go off with the familiar tone signaling that it’s my mom. Looking down at my phone, I smile when I see my mom’s face squished against the screen of my phone. I love taking pictures of people doing that. It makes it look they’re trapped in my phone, and I always get a good laugh out of it.

  Hitting talk, I say, “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hey, baby, bad time?”

  “Nope, I just got out of practice, heading across campus to do homework,” I say as I start walking again, despite the protests of Rachael, who is still yelling my name.

  I wiggle my phone at her and continued to walk as my mom says, “Ah, the life of a college kid.”

  I smile. “It’s a good life.”

  “I bet. Anyway, I was calling to see if you wanted to come to dinner tomorrow. Dad comes home tonight from Boston, and I think it would be good for Lucy.”

  Lucy is going through a lot right now. The divorce is finally done with, but now Rick, the bastard, still gets to see Angie once a week and it is killing Lucy. She doesn’t want him anywhere near them, but it was court-ordered. Because of this, Lucy doesn’t really go much of anywhere anymore. She really doesn’t talk to anyone either, which is weird. She always used to call me – we’re only three years apart and I love my sister, she’s awesome – but lately she doesn’t. I’m always worried about her, but there isn’t anything I can do to help her but be there. I said I’d get the guys and we’d go kick Rick’s ass, but she wouldn’t let me. It was probably a good thing, since I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my scholarship.

  I know with my dad coming in town, and because of Lucy, I can’t say no even if I wanted to. Which I do. I want to sleep all day tomorrow and do laundry, maybe go to get a rubdown for my back, but my family means more than that.

  “Yeah, Mom, I’ll be there.”

  “Great! I’ll make your favorite.”

  I smile at the gesture but say, “No, Mom, make Lucy’s. Maybe it will help.”

  “You’re such a good brother, Jude. I’ll see you tomorrow at six. Love you.”

  “Love you too. Bye.”

  I hang up my phone, pushing my Facebook app as I climb the steps that lead me into the quad. I love the quad. Everyone gathers to hang out, do homework, listen to music, and just be together. We have a pit too, which was an area with steps going down into the ground where a big concert slab sits. Usually the band or dance team performs down there. The clear grassy area is full of people today, and I wave and nod at my friends, but suddenly, my eyes are drawn to a girl who is holding an armful of crumpled pink papers. She’s pulling down the pink pieces of paper from various spots, but it isn’t what she’s doing that has my attention. No. It is her gorgeous, round ass. It has been a long time since a girl’s ass caught my attention, but this girl’s ass is a showstopper. Soon my feet change direction, and I’m heading toward her.

  I haven’t seen her face yet, but her curves and long red hair have me completely interested. I love a girl with some meat to her; skinny girls don’t do it for me and this one…man. I could go on for days about how hot her body is. She is completely covered, no skin showing since she’s wearing tight jeans with a pink Henley pulled over her fine ass. All I can do is cross my fingers she isn’t a butterface. For those who don’t know what that is, it’s a girl who is hot everywhere, but her face. Butterface.

  Moving around the tree where she was standing, I catch a glimpse of her face, and I am completely stunned. Big blue eyes, framed with big black lashes. She wears thick black frames, but I figure it is for style and not for sight purposes. Her skin is silky looking, her lips a delectable red that matches her fire-engine red hair, with a little nose that needs to be kissed. Hell, all of her needs to be kissed. Suddenly I’m not all that tired or even worried about my homework; my back doesn’t even ache.

  I want her.

  I watch her for a moment as she moves from tree to tree, pulling down the papers with a s
cowl on her face. When I see that the flyers she’s ripping down are “Lost Dog” flyers, I’m confused. We can’t have pets on campus, but when I glance closer, I see that the picture isn’t of a dog, but of one of my teammates, Allen West. According to the flyer, Allen has every STD known to man, and for some reason, I don’t find that surprising. He gets around and is known not to wrap his shit up. Ever.

  Dumbass.

  Turning to look at her, I call out, “Do you have evidence to support this claim?”

  She turns to look at me, her eyes locking with mine. Heat fills me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. I could get lost in those eyes. I have never seen such a beautiful shade of blue before. They remind me of my mom’s heart-shaped sapphire earrings she always wears.

  Raising her brow, she says, “I don’t, but then again, I wasn’t sleeping with him. He gave my friend crabs. I’m pulling them down though. Nothing to see here, keep moving.”

  I watch her for a moment, a grin pulling at my lips as she pushes her glasses up with her middle finger. She reaches for another flyer just as another girl comes up and stops her.

  “What the hell?!”

  She must be the friend with the crabs. She’s taller than the redhead by a foot with blond hair, blue eyes, and big plump lips. She’s really skinny with a shirt that stops under a pair of fantastic tits and a skirt that is probably against the school code. She looks easy; I should be trying to talk to her, but one, the redhead has me in knots, and two, she has crabs. I watch as the redhead turns, her blue eyes blazing as she says, “Ellen, you can’t do this. Allen could sue you, or worse, come after you. Let it go.”

  Ellen shakes her head. “Girls need to stay away from him. No reason for more vaginas to be infected by him.”

  “Why do you care? It wasn’t like you two were dating! I was dating him, and look at me, I don’t even care. Your vagina will heal, and all will be right in the world. No reason to slander this guy and make it worse on you.”