Jock Reign: Jock Hard Book 5

by Sara Ney

  “What does that mean?” Another laugh as she begins thumbing through her screens. “Dammit, Jack! You added a porn app!”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t watch a spot of porn…”

  “Yeah, but I don’t use an app for it, sheesh! I google it like all the other normal humans. Ugh!” She continues swiping, standing next to the giant, looming statue made of…of…some heavy metal. Iron?

  Who cares.

  “What is this?” She thrusts her mobile forward. “Is this another dating app?”

  “Yes, but your account has been deactivated already. I didn’t like it.”

  My nose sniffs the air disdainfully. The app was tacky and ill designed, and let’s not get started on the crop of blokes.

  “Oh my god, I cannot with you.”

  Shite.

  If she doesn’t think that is funny, she won’t like the fifty or so selfies I took between bedtime and ten minutes ago.

  Perhaps this is why she’s comparing me to a brother? These goofy little things I thought were harmless jests are also killing her lady boner for me.

  Not that she had a hard-on for me to begin with, but a bloke can dream!

  “Can I ask you a question?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  “Of course you can.” Head bent, she’s still playing on her mobile and replying to messages. “What is it?”

  “Am I in the friend section?”

  “What’s the friend section?”

  “You know—the friend zone.”

  Eliza begins to laugh, tipping her head back and barking out a giggle so loud a few passersby look. “I’m pretty sure that term is universal—not a soul on this planet has referred to it as the friend section. Oh you are too much.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Uh…were you being serious?” She’s stuffing her mobile—the correct mobile—into the side pocket of her black book bag.

  “Yes I was being serious. Why would you think I wasn’t?”

  “Because, Jack, all you do is joke about everything. Plus, why on earth would I not have you in the friend section?” This is said with a roll of her eyes.

  She isn’t looking me in the eye, and she doesn’t have her mobile in her hand any longer.

  Great.

  She’s avoiding me, and I don’t have the balls to explain while we’re standing in the center of campus.

  “Thanks for giving my mobile back.”

  Ten

  Eliza

  Am I in the friend section?

  The friend zone.

  He asked if I’ve put him in the friend zone as if there were any other place where he would be.

  What an odd question.

  Where the hell else would he be?!

  Friend section.

  Who says that?

  They have the term friend zone in England—I googled it to be sure.

  I can’t concentrate as I unpack my book bag and throw everything on my bed to get organized, maybe even do a little bit of homework before watching TV this afternoon. I’ve been on campus most of the day since early this morning. Kinda tired, actually. Maybe I should lie down for a little bit—a nap is something I rarely do but often something I look forward to. More people should take naps…that’s my motto anyway.

  I decide to flop down on the bed after kicking my shoes off, pulling my phone over and thumbing it open. My eye goes immediately to that dating app—I ignore the new icons that have appeared on my screen, the new apps Jack downloaded while he had my phone the past day or so.

  The little red flame dating app icon has a tiny red six by it, indicating that I have six new updates or messages.

  I groan as I open it, dreading whatever I’m about to discover.

  I have four new matches and two new messages from guys I have never seen a day in my life or swiped on. This is all Jack’s doing, clearly, and I set to work investigating these new people.

  He’s in the middle of a conversation with a young man named Jessie and another one named Mason. Neither of them appears to be my type, if I’m going by appearances alone.

  But first thing is first: I want to read the new bio he’s written for me.

  I poke around until I’m at my profile, holding my breath as my eyes scan the words—words I did not put there.

  ELIZA, 20

  I’m a salty little thing with lots of spunk. I enjoy eating chips on the couch but not sharing them. Breakfast food. Secret coffee shops. Handsome rugby players full of mud and comic book heroes.

  You: Tall, dark, accented, not from here. Sometimes you have a beard, sometimes you don’t.

  DON’T BE BORING.

  That last part is in all caps and…

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  There is so much wrong with this profile I don’t even know where to begin, but I’ll start with where he calls me salty.

  Salty!

  Do you believe that?! I’m not salty—I’m fun, dammit! Where on earth does he get off? I’m going to wring his neck.

  And let’s not glaze over the fact that he’s basically describing himself in the last part of this bio—tall, accented, not from here?

  What nerve!

  I can’t believe there are guys out there actually swiping on me after reading a profile like this! I’m so embarrassed I could bury my head and hide. Oh my god. There are probably guys on campus who viewed my profile and walked past me at school today. Certainly one of them recognized me from the app!

  I don’t even know where to begin with this.

  I don’t actually need the app to score dates to begin with and have been ignoring it for the past few weeks—haven’t been on a single date since last year.

  What do I even have the app downloaded onto my phone for?

  I can easily walk into any party house on campus and get myself a date for Friday night if I actually wanted to try. I’m not completely unfortunate-looking; I know I’m cute.

  I also know Jack finds me cute although I’m not sure what the extent of his attraction for me is.

  I will not be finding out.

  I delete the dating app altogether, tossing my phone onto the bed and closing my eyes for a quick nap.

  “Eliza? Are you up?”

  My eyes crack open but see nothing; seems I’ve slept through most of the early afternoon and into the early evening.

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s seven.”

  Kaylee is standing in the door, silhouetted by the lights in the hallway.

  “Are you sick?”

  “No, I just lay down and closed my eyes. I must have passed out.” I roll to the side and lie there blinking, doing my best to wake up.

  Groggy.

  Ugh.

  “That’s always a mistake.” She chuckles. “Lilly and I are getting dinner and we’re also going out tonight—there’s a party at Gamma Xi if you want to come.” She pauses. “Say you’ll come. The three of us haven’t been out together in ages! Lilly is always with Kyle, and you’re always studying or drawing or watching comic books.”

  Watching comic books, ha!

  I do like how she phrased that.

  “What are you getting for dinner?” I’m hungry, and it would be nice not to have to root around for my own sustenance.

  “Probably Chinese? Or pho? Both sound good, don’t they? We’re going to order it now, and it should be here in a half hour or whatever.”

  That does sound delicious. “Get me some, would you? Anything. I’ll eat anything.”

  Kaylee laughs. “And will you come out with us? We won’t stay long, just want to pop in. I have to be home by eleven because there’s a game tomorrow.”

  The cheerleaders, just like the rest of the student athletes, have a curfew the night before there’s a home game. Which means they have to all be home or in their dorm rooms so when the coaching staff calls for a confirmation, they aren’t out when they’re supposed to be…in.

  Oftentimes Ka
ylee will have to FaceTime or send a selfie and make sure to include the background and time stamp. The coaches just don’t want their athletes drinking and partying the night before an important game.

  “Eleven? I could do eleven. Sure, I’ll come.”

  This pleases my roommate, and she grins from ear to ear. “Cool. We’ll order dinner and then have some time to get ready before we leave. Plan on nine?”

  Nine? Dang, that is an early evening.

  Usually they don’t like arriving anywhere before ten.

  “Can you flip my light on? I can’t lie in here in the dark or I’ll fall back asleep.”

  “Sure.” Kaylee flips my switch on before easing my door closed the slightest bit, disappearing back into the kitchen to order dinner.

  I stare up at the ceiling, racking my brain to remember what I dreamed about during my nap…and come up short.

  My phone buzzes and I roll back to my side, hand patting the comforter in an attempt to locate it.

  Jack’s name is in my notification center.

  Jack: What are you doing?

  Why is he texting me? We have nothing to say to each other now that we’ve switched our phones back.

  And besides, messaging him like this feels like I’m cheating with him behind Kaylee’s back, and I don’t like it—not that they’re dating, but it still feels wrong despite the fact that…

  That…

  I clear my throat, deciding to answer his question with a question.

  Me: What are YOU doing?

  Jack: Nothing. Watching the telly, being bored.

  Me: So…you decided “I’m bored, I should message Eliza”?

  Jack: Well, sort of, but you don’t have to make it sound like a bad thing.

  Me: For your information, Mr. Jones, I just woke up from a nap.

  Jack: Oh brilliant! I love naps.

  Jack: Wait, isn’t it a hair late for a slumber? Bedtime is only a few hours away—will you manage to sleep?

  Eh. That’s debatable.

  Me: My plan wasn’t to sleep until seven, so who knows. I may wind up staring at the ceiling all night, hating myself and regretting it later.

  Jack: By the by, you keep calling me Jones.

  Me: Oh that’s right, Mr. Fancy Pants likes to be called by his TWO last names.

  Jack: I mean…I have two last names. They go together, it’s not like I’m purposely CHOOSING to use two, they were given to me at birth.

  That has me feeling like an asshole because he’s right, I shouldn’t be mocking his birthright. He’s not snotty because he has a hyphenated last name, it’s just not all that common in the States. Still, that doesn’t make it wrong.

  That makes me the snob.

  Me: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tease about your name when I know you have two.

  Jack: You’re not the first and you won’t be the last. Don’t have this problem in England, but I’m not in England right now, am I?

  That makes me feel like an even bigger shithead.

  Me: Any plans tonight?

  Jack: No. Just chilling.

  Me: Careful, you’re starting to sound American.

  Jack: Ha! That wouldn’t be the worst thing, though my mum would turn in her grave. Not that she’s dead, but it WOULD probably kill her.

  Me: LOL

  Jack: Do YOU have any plans tonight?

  Me: Yes, for once. House party.

  Jack: Where?

  Me: One of the fraternities is having a thing, my roommates want to pop in. It’ll be an early night because Kaylee has a curfew.

  Jack: Ahh, I see.

  Me: I should probably go eat and then start getting ready.

  Jack: Bit early to get ready for a house party, is it not?

  Me: Yes, but like I said—early night. Home by eleven and maybe a drink or two of alcohol will help me sleep???

  We’ll see.

  I’m just getting myself a drink when a familiar face walks through the front door and into the foyer of the fraternity house.

  Tall.

  Dark.

  Jeans and a preppy, pink and white gingham shirt tucked in. Brown belt. He looks wealthy and tidy but entirely approachable, too.

  It’s the scruff on his face, the shadow of whiskers because he hasn’t shaved.

  Ugh.

  “Oh my god, it’s Jack.” Kaylee grabs my arm and gives it a little shake. “What is he doing here—did you know he was coming?”

  Good point: What the hell is he doing here? He told me he was going to stay home tonight—he didn’t mention that he was going to come out and party, too.

  Is he here because I’m here? Or is he here because my roommate is here? He hasn’t come over, but I see him watching us from across the room, a head above all the other guys. They surround him, wanting his undivided attention, both girls and guys alike.

  “How would I know he was coming?” I shoot back, agitated. Since when did I become her authority on all things Jack Dryden-Jones? Big deal, I’ve spent more alone time with him than her—that doesn’t make me an expert.

  Thank goodness she doesn’t know about the movie…or about him walking me home in the rain…or about our phone mix-up.

  She would flip.

  “What is he doing?” she wants to know, going up on her tiptoes to get a better view of him.

  “It looks as if he is just holding court.”

  “Holding court? What does that mean?”

  “You know, greeting people—everyone wants to talk to him so he’s just trying to get through the door and into the room.”

  “He’s like a celebrity,” she says with stars in her eyes.

  He truly is the king of campus.

  I’m not surprised they wanted him on the rugby team, and I’m not surprised people are clamoring for an audience with him; Jack is charismatic and funny and handsome. Who wouldn’t want to be around a guy like that?

  My stomach gives a little flip when he raises his head and our eyes meet.

  He smiles. Shoots me a tiny little wave, much like one the Queen would give.

  “Oh my gosh, did you see that,” Kaylee says beside me. “He just smiled and waved at me.”

  Um, no, I’m pretty sure he was smiling and waving at me. But I don’t say those words out loud—I don’t want to hurt her feelings or make things weird, and quite honestly, perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe he is in fact smiling and waving at her.

  “Listen, I’m going to use the bathroom. Do you want to come with?” I ask her, our other roommate having completely ditched us as soon as we walked in the door even though the intention was to spend time together tonight.

  Kyle must be here.

  They’re probably off making out in some back bedroom.

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” I don’t necessarily want her standing here all on her own, though I’m sure it won’t be long before someone recognizes her and comes over to chat.

  “Really, Mom, I’m fine.” Her eyes are roaming the room now, so I slide away in an attempt to find the toilet.

  I don’t actually have to pee.

  I just need the time to gather my wits and figure out how I’m going to act when Jack finally makes his way over—and he will. There’s no doubt he came tonight because I told him I was going to be here.

  Correction: told him we were going to be here.

  My roommates and me.

  The bathroom is located next to a set of stairs leading to a second level, and I am the third person in line, which is crazy considering this house party is nowhere near capacity. There are barely any people here yet, maybe thirty?

  Seems all the girls have the same idea—

  “Hey.”

  A deep voice is at my back, and I turn to see Jack standing behind me in line.

  “Don’t tell me you actually have to use the toilet.” My eyes roll.

  “How did you guess?”

  “You know, I actually came over here so I could avoid talking to you,” I tell him bluntly. “I’m
not ready to explain to my roommate why you and I are suddenly so chummy.”

  “Why would you avoid talking to me? I thought we were mates.”

  I turn to face forward so to anyone watching, we’re not having a conversation. “Jack, you have enough mates. You don’t need me on that long list of admirers.”

  “You don’t admire me?”

  I smile despite myself. “I didn’t say that.”

  Lying is not one of my talents, and it feels rude doing so now.

  “Ah, so you do—you’re just not willing to admit it.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  There is only one other person in front of me in line for the bathroom now, and if I didn’t know any better, I would think she was listening to my conversation with Jack. She’s doing a great job pretending she’s not, though.

  “And by the way, I read that dating profile. Salty, Jack? Really?” I whisper-hiss through clenched teeth.

  “I thought that was a nice touch, bit of irony because you’re so even-keeled.”

  Is he being sarcastic? It’s hard to tell with that accent.

  “I’ve never wanted to strangle anyone, but I wanted to strangle you when I read that.”

  “Are you saying you don’t like Jessie or…” He scratches his chin. “What was the other bloke’s name? It’s escaping me.”

  “Mason.”

  “Ah yes—Mason.” He takes a swig of beer. “Are you telling me neither of them catches your fancy?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is the point? Don’t you want your profile to be catchy? What you had before was blah.” I look back in time to catch him looking down at me. “No offense.”

  “Oh—none taken.” Sarcasm drips off my tongue.

  The door to the bathroom opens and the girl in front of me steps inside, raising her brows once she looks me in the eye as she closes the door behind her. Yup, she was definitely eavesdropping on my conversation with Jack, dammit.

  “I deleted that stupid dating app,” I blurt out.

  “Why? I spent so much time on it.”

  “Oh be quiet, you did not.”