TRIPPED

by Jacob Chance

  She pouts her full lips. “Please? You look kind of sexy in it. I never realized I might have a Santa fetish.”

  Wait. What? If wearing this will make Piper happy and get me some hot lovin’ I’m willing to suffer for a few hours.

  “Fine. I’ll wear it. But only because I love you so much.” And blow jobs.

  “I love you too.”

  “Can I give you one of your presents now?” I ask, taking hold of her hand. “It’s in my room.”

  “Donovan, I’m not having sex in the middle of the party.”

  “Who said anything about the middle of the party? We’re going to my room,” I jest, and she rolls her eyes. “I seriously want to give you a gift and that’s all. I can’t promise I won’t steal a kiss or two, though.”

  “Let’s go see this present that has you so excited,” she says, and we climb the stairs together.

  I squeeze her hand. “I just know you’re going to love it and that makes me happy.”

  I unlock my door and kick it closed behind us. “Have a seat on the bed.”

  Leaning back on her hands, she watches me. “If this is all some big ruse to get your dick sucked I’m going to junk punch you.”

  I bark out a laugh. “It’s not. Although, if you’re offering, you know I won’t refuse.” Reaching inside my closet, I grab the gift and bring it to Piper. “Here you go.”

  She holds the rectangular object between her hands. “This is big.”

  I grin. “That’s what she said.”

  Piper pretends to ignore me, which is one of her favorite behavior management techniques with me. What can I say? I can be a lot to handle.

  “Remember when we helped one of the frat brothers with his photography project?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yeah, the one who took pictures of our eyes.”

  “It wasn’t for a project,” I explain. “I had him make your present.”

  She tears at the paper revealing a white box. She removes the cover and parts the tissue paper. “Oh my God. This is amazing. It looks like artwork with the way they’re touching and merging on the edge. I wouldn’t have known it was our irises.”

  “Look at how cool yours is. There are so many different shades of brown and cool shapes,” I point out.

  “Yours is amazing. All that beautiful blue, and look at the wavy lines and geometric shapes.” She turns to look at me. “Thank you. This is the coolest gift I’ve ever received. I can’t wait to hang it in my room.” She leans over and presses her mouth to mine for a sweet kiss. “Your beard tickles,” she titters.

  I slap my legs. “Why don’t you sit on my lap and tell me what a good girl you’ve been?”

  She rises, moving between my legs. “I’ve been a naughty girl, Santa.” She twirls her hair around her index finger and bats her eyelashes at me.

  I adjust my growing cock. “I know how you can get back on the nice list.”

  Clothes fly in all directions as we undress. I reach up to remove the Santa hat and beard.

  “No,” Piper says, lying back on my bed. “Leave the beard on.”

  Smirking, I climb between her legs. “Ho ho ho. Have I got a surprise for you.”

  Piper and I return to the party with smiles on our faces.

  “Piper,” Clover squeals her name. “I was wondering where you were.”

  “She had to sit on Santa’s lap,” I explain.

  “I bet.” Clover snickers. “By the way, I love the decorations. If the hockey thing doesn’t pan out, you should consider a career in interior design.”

  “What did you call it, babe?” I ask.

  “Frat House Chic,” Piper reminds me.

  Clover laughs and hugs Piper. “You guys are so awesome together.” I think she may have had a little too much to drink.

  While the two girls partake in their love fest, I stand there looking around. A guy who’s one half of a pajama wearing couple walks by. “Nice pajamas,” I call out.

  He gives me a thumbs up and points at me. “Nice hat and beard.”

  I reach up, touching the soft hair on my chin that I forgot I was wearing, and I realize I’ve become one of those pussy-whipped guys I was making fun of earlier. My lips curve upward in a satisfied smile.

  Piper hooks her arm through mine. “What are you so happy about?”

  I look down at my favorite person in the whole world. “What do I not have to be happy about? I’m playing hockey for the Terriers, I’m getting good grades, and I have the love of my life by my side.”

  “You forgot one part,” she says.

  “What’s that?”

  “Forever. I’ll be by your side forever and not a day less.”

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  They call him ‘Wilde Man’. Rumor has it he’s an animal on the ice and between the sheets.

  Like the rest of the female population, I’ve been crushing on Clancy Wilde, the captain of Boston University’s hockey team, since the first time I saw him. Big, blond, and charming, he ticks all the boxes.

  When we find ourselves at a wedding, drunk and flirting, I know I can finally check this tattooed, bad boy, hockey player off my wish list.

  One night is all it was meant to be, until I see two pink lines on the pregnancy test.

  How did the notch on my belt turn into a ball and chain?

  Read on for the first chapter of CHECKED

  Available on AMAZON and FREE with Kindle Unlimited

  Chapter One

  Tenley

  August

  Leaning back against the bar, I sip my wine and glance around the poolside wedding reception. My friend just married the man of her dreams and I can’t even land a date with a decent guy. Smiling faces surround me while couples dance closely and contentedly in each other’s arms. Romance fills the air and I’m standing here drowning my sorrows, contemplating my love life. Or should I say lack thereof?

  I haven’t gone on a date in three months. That’s quite a dry spell for a twenty-one-year-old woman. The guy who took me out must have had a change of heart. He was completely into me for weeks, and in the span of two hours his behavior did a sudden one-eighty. He went from flirting madly to thrusting me in the friend zone so fast I got whiplash. To this day, I still wonder what happened.

  Was it something I said? Or something I did?

  Fuck me. My thoughts are beginning to sound like a cheesy eighties rock ballad.

  Turning around, I set my wine glass down and lean my forearms on the bar while I stare out at the beautiful northern Virginia sunset. Painting the sky with vivid slashes of orange, pink, and gold, it’s breathtaking, making it difficult to feel down when there’s so much beauty surrounding me. And the gentle whisper of the evening breeze wafting over my bare shoulders feels like a reassuring caress.

  Relax. Loosen up. That’s what I imagine it’s saying to me.

  I don’t want to be a killjoy on this happy occasion. It’s not that I’m jealous when people find their happily ever after, like my friend Jane did. She and her new husband are perfect for each other. The two of them belong together and I want her to have nothing but the best. I just wish I had some viable dating options on the horizon, so I could feel better about my own romantic future. I’d even be satisfied if something would happen to give me hope that I won’t be alone forever.

  Send me a sign, universe. I’m ready.

  A tan, masculine forearm lands on the bar next to mine.

  Damn that was quick. Is this my sign?

  My eyes wander along the muscular, veined length, stopping when they reach the neatly rolled up shirtsleeves. Turning my head, my gaze continues the trek up his crisp, white, fitted shirt. Snug around his flexed bicep, I wonder if he has any tattoos under that material?

  A broad shoulder caps it off so nicely, I’m afraid to look any higher. Whoever this is standing next to me, there’s no way his face can possibly measure up to the rest of
him. Why ruin perfection?

  Curiosity wins out, though.

  Oh well, here goes nothing.

  His thick neck is tanned a golden brown and his sculpted lips are twisted into a derisive smirk telling me he’s aware of my thorough perusal. The higher my eyes climb, the faster my heart gallops.

  Oh shit.

  I know those lips.

  I recognize that sexy smirk.

  Please be wrong.

  Sweeping my gaze up, I connect with roguish hazel orbs. Fuck me. Of all times for me to be right.

  Clancy Wilde, my best friend’s cousin, is next to me in the flesh… in his very sexy, two percent body fat flesh.

  I let out a gasp before I can hold the sound in.

  He chuckles deeply, making my stomach toss turbulently, like rough water on the high seas.

  “Something wrong, Tenley?” he questions knowingly. Fuck me. Unfortunately, he’s aware I’ve always harbored a huge crush on him.

  Licking my dry lips, I pray my voice still works. “Not a thing.” I aim a tight, close-lipped smile his way and pluck my wine glass from the bar. Tipping it back, I drink down the remainder in one long gulp. One hand raises signaling for the bartender before the other can place the empty glass down.

  He sniggers, as if he knows the reason for my discomfort, and my need for more wine. But is it really a secret? He makes me feel off balance and flushed, unlike my usual confident self.

  What girl wouldn’t be uncomfortable in this situation?

  It feels so grade school that he knows I think he’s ridiculously hot. But I’m pretty sure every girl in the free world feels that way about him.

  “Wine?” he arches a dark blond brow and tips his head toward my glass.

  “What about it?”

  “I just never imagined you as a wine drinker.”

  Turning to face him, I lean my arm on the bar and prop my chin on my palm. “What have you imagined me drinking then?” I can’t wait to hear this one.

  “Something with a little more kick, a little more fire. It needs to have a hint of sour and plenty of sweet. Something that mimics your personality.”

  He thinks I’m fiery and sweet?

  “I’m your cousin’s best friend. You live in Boston and I’m in Washington D.C. We’ve probably seen each other a total of ten times over the years. How strange is it that you think of me at all?”

  “Ten times? You’ve been counting, Tenley?”

  Fucker.

  “You wish,” I sass back. I take another sip of my wine, cooling down the heat that being in his company always brings.

  Clancy Wilde is my most-embarrassing secret. A frequent topic in my high school journal, I recorded all the cringe worthy facts about him with my favorite purple pen in looping handwriting and i’s dotted with hearts.

  Thank God he’s never read the entries or knows of their existence. I’ve no doubt he’d love to see his name at the top of my ‘wish list’ of guys I’d like to be with. It’s a short list, but he’s still in the top spot.

  “Say I’m going to go along with your theory about my drink, what would you suggest?” Gripping the stem, I hold out my empty glass.

  His fingers close around the rim, sliding it across the bar while his eyes study me carefully. Raking his teeth over his bottom lip, the action calls my attention to their full shape. He probably did that on purpose.

  Returning my focus upward, I catch his amused expression. Yep. He did. The bastard.

  “Devil’s Advocate.”

  “Is that the name of the drink, or are you playing one?”

  He smiles. “That’s the name of the drink. Although, that’s also one of my favorite parts to play.”

  Okay, I’ll go along with your game. “What’s in it?”

  “Fireball whiskey, spiced rum, apple schnapps, and lemon-lime soda.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “That sounds horrible.”

  “I figured you wouldn’t try it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugs. “It’s just that this drink is probably too much for you to handle.”

  I rise to my full height and narrow my eyes at him. “I can handle more than you could imagine, buddy.”

  He grins and looks at me appraisingly. “Can you now? I’d like to see exactly how much you can handle.”

  Wait a minute.

  Is he still talking about this drink? Or is he flirting with me?

  My stomach tumbles madly at the thought of him being interested in me.

  Turning, I raise my hand signaling the bartender once more. He ambles over, but before I can order, Clancy beats me to it.

  “Can I get a Devil’s Advocate for her and a Jameson neat for me?”

  “Sure thing,” he replies, before moving toward the clean glasses.

  “Have you ever tried this drink?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “I have, actually. One of my cousins went to bartending school and I helped him out by trying all the drinks he made.”

  “I’m sure that was a real hardship for you.” I roll my eyes. What young guy wouldn’t jump at the opportunity for free booze?

  “You can’t imagine.” He shakes his head. “But that’s the kind of guy I am. I’ll jump right in there and take the bull by the horns when no one else wants to.” His tone is teasing, but he probably thinks he’s all that.

  And he is.

  Tall and thick-chested with shoulder length blond hair, he can get any girl he wants and probably has had most of them.

  He’s captain of the hockey team at Boston University and, from what I’ve heard, an animal on the ice. And if I had to guess, I’d say between the sheets too.

  They don’t call him ‘Wilde Man’ for nothing.

  I’ve heard too much about his love ‘em and leave ‘em ways from Sophie. I know she wanted me informed so I would keep my distance.

  What she doesn’t understand is being aware of his hook ups doesn’t turn me off like you’d think it would. It makes me assume he must be really good between the sheets from all that practice.

  Clancy is the worst kind of player there is because he’s also a nice guy. And it would be all too easy to fall for him without meaning to.

  He leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him wherever he goes. Even I’m susceptible to his handsome face and charming personality.

  And let’s not forget that hard body.

  The bartender returns, placing my drink on a napkin in front of me. Eyeing the beverage skeptically, I can’t help but wonder what it will taste like.

  Golden in color, it looks harmless enough, but Clancy rattled off the liquor content, so I know it’s going to pack a punch.

  His Jameson gets set on the bar and he immediately raises the glass to his lips for a sip. “Come on. Don’t make me drink alone.” He tips his chin toward my drink. “Try it. I’m interested in hearing what you think.”

  Uncrossing my arms, I hesitantly close my fingers around the tumbler. It’s cold against my skin.

  “Go on. It’s not going to bite you. At least not right away.” He laughs.

  It’s his amusement at my expense that goads me into raising the glass to my lips and knocking it back in one continuous gulp. I don’t stop until every drop is gone. Raising my head, my empty hand lands on my tingling lips.

  I try not to cringe from the sweet aftertaste in my mouth, followed by a fiery burn down my esophagus and into my stomach. It feels like I swallowed a tiny fire breathing dragon.

  The ice in the empty glass clinks together as I place the tumbler on the bar. A weary warmth envelops my limbs, instantly relaxing me.

  Clancy watches for a reaction. “So? What did you think?”

  Hmm. What do I think?

  “It was better than I thought it would be. It’s definitely sweet, almost too much so. And it feels a little like I swallowed fire.” Licking my lips, I taste a bit of the lemon-lime mixed with the apple, or maybe I’m just imagining it. Either way, it’s not as unpleas
ant as I expected.

  “The second one will taste even better,” he states.

  “Second one? I don’t think my stomach can take another. It might already be flaming.”

  “Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.” He winks and gestures to the bartender for two more drinks.

  “Okay, but this is the last one. I don’t want to get drunk and feel like crap tomorrow morning. I plan on making the most of this weekend.”

  “You mentioned before that you can handle a lot, so I think you’ll be fine.”

  He’s so annoying for throwing my own words back at me. I’m going to have this one last drink and after that, if Clancy doesn’t find somewhere else to be, I will.

  I’m not going to let him weasel his way past my defenses, or into my panties, like so many girls do.

  I’m smarter than they are.

  But do I want to be?

  Our drinks get pushed along the shiny bar top toward us. Clancy tucks two twenty dollar bills down into the tip cup and hands my glass to me. He picks up his own and holds it up in the air.

  “I think a toast is in order.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this is a happy occasion and it’s the first time we’ve had a chance to talk in a long time.” He leans closer.

  “I’m not sure what you mean. We’ve never really talked much.”

  “Well, maybe we should rectify that.” His voice lowers becoming impossibly deep.

  I angle my torso toward him. “Okay. Whatever floats your boat, dude.” My words contradict my body language.

  “Don’t sound so happy at the prospect. Look, I’ll even make the toast, all you have to do is say cheers. You can handle that, right?” I shake my hand like I’m holding a pom pom and he grins. “To friendship… close friendship.”

  I mutter, “Cheers.” And ignore his innuendo.

  There.

  My duty is done.

  Now to finish this drink and get away from all this suffocating machismo before I collapse under the weight of it. I don’t want to be one of those girls who give in easily. He should have to put in some effort for a change. I drink down this Devil’s Advocate slightly slower than the first one, but when all is said and done, it’s still pretty fast. I want to get away from Clancy ASAP.