Fraternize

by Rachel Van Dyken

  My shoulders slumped.

  “Posture.” He jerked my shoulders back then tapped his temple with his finger. “That’s in the manual too.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t memorize the cheerleading manual so you could hit on all of us?”

  “I’ve slept with half your squad.” He shrugged, and then raw pain flashed across his face before he smiled. “Trust me, I know the rules. Most of them don’t even eat around me because they’re afraid I’ll tattle.”

  “Do you?”

  “Do I what, Curves?”

  “Tattle?”

  “Only on your bitchy friend,” he said in a singsong voice. “But look at that. Storytime’s over. Get some shut-eye, and we can make Miller miserable over some eggs.”

  “You make eggs?”

  “I make everything.” He grinned. “How else am I supposed to get my dick in all the right places?”

  “You disgust me.”

  “Bullshit.” Sanchez was touching my face again, his lips too close. “I fascinate you.”

  “Dinosaurs fascinate me.” I tried to keep my voice bored.

  “I used to have a T. rex collection.”

  I pressed my lips together in a smile to keep from laughing out loud. “Why does that feel like a lie?”

  “Because I still have it.” He shrugged. “Guest bedrooms are down the hall to the right. New toothbrushes, and anything else you may need. Oh, and, Curves?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Lock your door.”

  “So you don’t accidently stumble in?” I asked in a deadpan voice.

  “Nah, so you don’t accidently stumble out.” He winked and swaggered away from me like he owned the world and knew it.

  And maybe guys like him did.

  I was in over my head.

  I was screwed.

  And for some reason . . .

  I was smiling.

  Chapter Twelve

  MILLER

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d stared at the blank wall.

  The paint was a muted tan that only seemed to remind me of my own emptiness—and of the need to fill the wall with something that felt like home.

  I’d never put up pictures.

  It had seemed pointless.

  The only ones that had ever meant anything to me were of Emerson and my mom.

  My dad only wanted me for my money and, ever since my mom’s death, had found most of his answers at the bottom of a bottle.

  Unpacked boxes littered the apartment. I’d taken the first available penthouse apartment in Bellevue, with hopes that the security would be enough to give me privacy.

  And if I was being completely honest, it was also far enough away from my childhood home, from her, from the McDonald’s we used to go to, from the high school we’d both attended. I sure as hell shouldn’t let my brain go there but it did, and just like that one of my last memories with Em pushed through the surface, begging to be remembered.

  (Then)

  “Eat.” I slid my fries across the table. When she didn’t reach for them, I opened up some ranch dipping sauce and sniffed it. “God, that smells good. Don’t you think this smells good, Em?” I held it right underneath her cute-as-hell nose. She flinched before casting a murderous glance in my direction.

  “I think I’ll dip my fries in this.”

  I knew what I was doing.

  Stomping all over her weaknesses. The girls on the squad were mean to her because she was a threat—Emerson always saw it the other way around—she was bigger, curvier, ergo their words must be right. No matter how many times I tried to convince her that any guy would give his left nut for a chance to even hold her hand—she still thought she was the one lacking, and unfortunately that even trickled into food.

  “Mmm.” I shoved five french fries in my mouth as ranch sauce fell in a gooey blob onto the table. “That’s the spot, baby.” I grinned over another huge mouthful. “I’m so close!” I slammed a hand onto the table. Everyone at the burger joint turned to stare at us.

  Her lips twitched while her eyes snapped to my fries with longing, damn french fry, making me want to trade places. “You’re not funny.”

  “Eat the fries before I orgasm in front of the entire restaurant, Em.”

  “We’ll get blacklisted . . .” She sighed. “Again.”

  “The first time was bullshit, and you know it,” I said defensively.

  “Miller.”

  I wasn’t going to take no for an answer, French orgasm here I come, I snickered at my own word play. “OH, OH, OH—”

  She quickly shoved two fries in her mouth and glared at me. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

  I glanced under the table and then moaned. “But your ass is second only to your face. And that comes from the heart, Em.”

  “I think that was a compliment.”

  “You’re welcome.” Satisfied, I spread my arms wide and chuckled while she swallowed and drank me in with her eyes. I knew what she saw. My Bellevue Football team T-shirt was stretched tightly across my lean muscles. She looked away and shivered. Nobody would have noticed the effect I had on her—I noticed. I always had.

  Fucking memories.

  A chill ran down my spine as my ears strained to hear anything else on the other side of the wall, aside from Sanchez’s moaning. Why? Why did it have to be her? Why. Why. What the ever-loving-F why!

  I wanted to believe the Em I used to know had grown into a mature adult who wouldn’t just jump in bed with a guy like Sanchez because he smiled in her direction.

  Then again, I didn’t really know her anymore, did I?

  And I blamed her for that more than I would ever blame myself.

  I clenched my hands so tight my palms burned. I wanted to seriously take an axe to that bare wall and chop until I made my way through.

  The whole scenario was straight out of The Shining. I seriously needed to get my shit together if I was going to be able to focus on our first preseason game in two weeks.

  Focus, Miller.

  Not on the noises next door.

  If I closed my eyes, I swore I could still feel the way her body felt beneath my fingertips . . . the buzzing awareness of her mouth as it drew each kiss, sucked the life out of me.

  I kicked one of the ugly brown boxes full of shit I didn’t need and heard the sound of glass breaking.

  I was ready to throw the box across the large living room when a knock sounded at the door. I tripped over four more boxes in an effort to answer it.

  I jerked the knob and swore. “Sanchez.”

  “Miller.” I hated that I was inspecting him for any hint that she’d been kissing him, tugging at his clothes, sucking his—

  Yeah, I needed to stop.

  He sidestepped me, breezing right into my apartment like he owned it.

  “Did you need something?” Hadn’t he already done enough?

  “Nice place.” He did a slow circle where he stood and then crossed his bulky arms over his chest. “If you need the name of a decorator I can—”

  “Cut the shit,” I interrupted. “It’s late, and we both have practice in the morning. What do you need?”

  His green eyes flashed. “I called dibs.”

  Not what I expected him to say.

  It felt like someone had punched me in the face and then shoved me off the nearest cliff. “You can’t just call dibs on a person, Sanchez. Besides, I’m sure if she knew about your little bet with the rest of the guys, she’d feed you your own heart.”

  His lips twitched. “I can see my girl being violent like that, kinda kinky. I think I like it.”

  My gut twisted. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I bit my tongue in an effort to not rip his face off. I had no right to be possessive. No right to be upset. No damn right.

  “Was that all? I’m tired.”

  His eyes narrowed. “So, you’re cool with this? With me dating Emerson?”

  It was the first time he’d said her name, which was my first clue. He
wasn’t kidding. He was serious as hell.

  “I don’t even know her anymore.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal and immediately felt like I was going to throw up. “You can screw whoever and whatever you want, man. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression you needed permission.”

  “Good.” His smile grew. “Because this girl’s different.”

  I know she is, my heart screamed.

  “Sure she is.” I snorted. “Just wait.”

  “You sure sound bitter for someone who stole her virginity then left her all alone.” His gaze met mine. “Something you’re not telling me before I go back into my apartment and strip her naked?”

  Red. I saw fucking red. “Nah, man, have at it. Just make sure to wear a condom.”

  I sounded like my father.

  My drunk, bitter father.

  I’d never hated myself more than I did in that moment.

  “I always protect those I’m with, even if it’s from themselves,” he finally said as he walked by me. I could smell her on his skin, and I hated them both. I couldn’t afford to hate him if I wanted to win games, but damn, I’d never wanted to inflict physical harm more than I did in that minute.

  All I needed him to do was trip over at least five boxes, the heavy ones, snap his leg in two, and then he’d be out of the picture, and I could go back to being lonely.

  And angry.

  Why the hell had I been traded now?

  I ran my hands over my buzzed hair and swore again.

  “Hey, Miller?”

  “Yeah?” I tried to sound casual. I failed.

  I knew he could see right through me. My posture was rigid, my voice hoarse, and my eyes probably looked as wild as my heartbeat.

  “Never say I didn’t warn you.”

  He nodded. “Game on.”

  “Game?”

  “May the best man win.” He winked and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving me blanketed in silence, until of course, his own apartment door opened and footsteps sounded.

  Followed by female laughter.

  I couldn’t tell if it was the TV or if it was Emerson.

  And then I was irrationally angry that I’d forgotten the way her laugh sounded, and that if she was laughing, it was because of him.

  Sleep.

  I needed to go to sleep.

  Or I was going to lose my mind.

  And be complete shit at practice.

  But when I slid into my sheets a few hours later, my head resting against the pillow, the only vision that would come was that of Emerson crying and clinging to me, her nails digging into my biceps.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  EMERSON

  It was quickly turning out to be the worst morning of my life. I woke up to Sanchez hovering over me with a mirror under my nose.

  He was afraid I wasn’t breathing.

  Good to know that his first response wasn’t to call an ambulance or even feel for a pulse, but to grab a freaking bathroom mirror and shove it underneath my nostrils.

  Things just got worse from there.

  I’d been trying to do the whole protein shake thing as per the manual’s instructions, only to wake up to sausage, bacon, toast, and eggs.

  He’d made it all.

  And while that would normally be the sweetest thing ever, he refused to let me leave until I ate everything on my plate.

  Because, didn’t you know? Kids are starving all over the US, going hungry. Plus, he wanted me to keep my curves.

  Okay, so maybe that was the good part of my morning.

  But it quickly went to hell after I grabbed my bag and moved to the elevator.

  Either Miller was literally stalking us through the peephole, or I had the worst luck in the world.

  I heard the door open first.

  Smelled his cologne second.

  It was different than what he’d worn in high school, but somehow it still made my legs liquid and my heart pound a little harder.

  Sanchez wrapped a possessive arm around me and tugged me into the elevator, but at least held it open for Miller.

  “This is fun,” Miller said, seemingly to himself.

  My lips twitched and then, maybe it was the breakfast, or the fact that I’d had a horrible night, but my heart hurt.

  And I laughed. Hard.

  Both guys looked at me like I’d just grown two heads.

  “Don’t mind me.” I wiped tears from under my eyes. “I laugh when I get uncomfortable.”

  “The hell?” Sanchez shook his head. “That can’t be convenient.”

  “She laughed at her grandpa’s funeral,” Miller apparently felt the need to add.

  Sanchez grinned. “No shit?”

  “I had to keep handing her tissues so people would assume she was just sobbing really hard. And not heartless.” Miller sounded pissed, but I knew that if he remembered that memory correctly, we were also holding hands underneath the hymnal, and he’d inched my skirt at least halfway up my thigh in order to distract me from laughing.

  (Then)

  Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

  I could still feel his lips whispering against the outside of my ear as he confessed to wanting nothing more than to make out with me.

  I was still dating someone else.

  It felt so . . . forbidden.

  The elevator dinged.

  I gave a little jolt and glanced up at both of them, fully aware that my cheeks were pink and my breathing was a bit labored at the memory.

  Miller’s expression changed from angry to . . . perceptive. Something shifted between the guys. I had no idea what.

  When the elevator doors opened, Sanchez let me go first and then Miller. I could have sworn I heard Miller mutter, “First point goes to me,” as he strode to his Mercedes.

  Sanchez rubbed his jaw like he’d just taken a hit.

  “Everything okay?” I asked. It took a lot of concentration to not look behind me as Miller started his car.

  “Yeah.” Sanchez grabbed my free hand and brought it to his lips. “How many years were you guys friends? Just high school, yeah?”

  I gulped. “Since we were seven.”

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” His grin was sexy, but it looked forced. “Now, get that nice ass in my car so I can take you to practice. And if your coach sees you, just tell her that your car wouldn’t start, and I was the only knight in shining armor available.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re more like the guy that kills the knight in shining armor then puts on said armor and steals all the maidens.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “See? We’re already best friends, and it’s been two days.”

  I glanced away. “And here I thought you just wanted sex.”

  “Best friends who have sex. That’s what makes the best part . . . best.” He pulled out of the parking garage and turned up the music. “Now, promise me we can go out this week.”

  “No.”

  “Please?”

  “It’s weirder when you’re polite.”

  Another laugh. “Would you rather I say something like ‘Bitch, you’re coming with me!’?”

  Laughter erupted between us. “Please don’t ever say that again.” I checked my cell and panicked. “Crap!”

  “What?” His expression paled.

  “If I’m not at practice in five minutes, I’m going to have to run.”

  “Hell no.” He slammed his foot on the accelerator, making it feel like my body was still five miles behind us as we careened toward the stadium. “I’m not letting them take away that ass.”

  So, my morning had started off bad.

  But after that comment?

  Things were looking up.

  “You’re flushed,” Kinsey commented after practice.

  I gulped the rest of my water and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “I think, after that practice, everyone is flushed.”<
br />
  Her eyes narrowed. “Hmm, I’m not buying it.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Curves!” Sanchez yelled at the top of his lungs, gaining the attention of every single person in the parking lot.

  Great.

  “Hold up.” He called again, his voice closing in.

  Kinsey gave me a knowing look and crossed her arms. “Looks like someone has a crush.”

  “I don’t,” I said quickly.

  “Wasn’t talking about you, Em,” she said in a singsong voice and then, “Hey, Sanchez. Quick, what’s two plus two?”

  His icy glare was so ridiculously out of character for him that I didn’t know what to say to cut the obvious tension between them.

  “I don’t know, Kinsey. Say, how do you drown a cheerleader?”

  “If you say ‘Put a mirror at the bottom of a pool,’ I’m going to give your balls a little tug and show Emerson how small they really are.”

  “Time out!” I stepped between them. “Something I should know?”

  “She wouldn’t sleep with me.” Sanchez shrugged just as Kinsey rolled her eyes.

  “I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

  “So, the hostility comes from lack of sex?” I offered.

  Kinsey’s lips pressed together in an amused smile. “What can I say? I think Grant”—it was the first time she’d said his name—“is still under the impression that if you don’t use it, you’ll lose it. I think his biggest fear is waking up without an erection.”

  “That . . .” Sanchez nodded seriously. “And waking up with you naked.”

  She flipped him off.

  “Miller!” Lily, one of my teammates, called out his name and basically hung on his bicep like a cheap Christmas ornament. Her sports bra covered huge boobs, and her tiny shorts could double as underwear. “I’m having a preseason party. You should come.”

  Kinsey and Sanchez both laughed.

  What was I missing?

  “Um . . .” Miller politely removed her hand from his body. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

  Lily walked off, her hair bouncing across her shoulders like she was on the catwalk instead of at practice.

  “Ask me how many NFL stars she’s been with,” Kinsey said with a laugh. “It’s almost comical how fast she launches those talons. Last year after stalking Thomas during the entire preseason he finally fell for her charms. The poor guy ended up buying her diamond earrings and a trip to Mexico before he realized she’d already slept with half the team.”