Sweet Rome

The minute I exited the classroom, two arms snaked around my neck and I groaned. “Shel, f**k off!”

As I turned around, a pair of red, pouting lips protruded and large hazel eyes tightened. “Not Shel, Bullet!”

I sighed as I was pushed aggressively against the wall. “Caroline,” I greeted tightly as she rubbed up all she had against my cock. I ignored the watching students walking past, and no doubt Shelly too, which I actually decided would be a good thing. It’d piss her off, maybe get her to back off for a while.

“Come back to my dorm,” Caroline said seductively, her sharp nails slipping under my shirt and digging into the skin—she was one kinky bitch. I gritted my teeth at the pain and her eyes lit with arousal. She leaned in, right to my ear, and murmured, “I’ve been dreaming about your c**k in my mouth all week.”

Christ. I shut my eyes for a second, debating whether or not I could actually do this new change in lifestyle I’d set for myself, but I pushed her off, deciding to stick to my original plan. For the first time ever, Caroline and her wonder mouth held absolutely zero appeal. Time to put my plan into action—a cull on all distractions. She was getting too clingy anyhow.

Meeting Caroline’s hungry eyes, I stated, “Not happening. In fact, I’m cutting you out for good. Go suck someone else’s junk. I don’t want it no more.”

“But… but… why not? You never refuse me!” It was true, I never had before, but, hell, I was done.

“Things change.” Her nails, at my words, dug in farther into my stomach, and her face flushed red with anger. Glaring, I grabbed her wrists and pushed her away.

“Change? You? Since when?” she shrilled.

“Since right f**king now! You’re not required anymore,” I shouted, and she blanched, storming off down the corridor. It was true. I did need to change. I was sick to the back teeth of the groupies, of the fame whores. Ten months. I reminded myself. Just ten more f**king months. And I turned against the wall, head against the cold cream paint… Just ten more months to get through.

3

“Nope, not going,” I said for the fiftieth time to Austin, Reece, and Jimmy-Don as we chilled in the lounge area of the frat house—me lying on my back on the couch, throwing a football up into the air, them watching some shit reality show about f**k knows what.

“What you gonna do, then? Stay here on your own?” Austin asked from his place on the recliner. Austin was ex-gang: Italian, heavily tattooed, piercings everywhere, ear plugs, the works—and looked as scary as all shit, but he was the best guy I knew and one of the only people I could actually tolerate.

“Yeah, I guess.”

A bunch of the guys—mostly Tide players—came bustling in the room, hyped up and carrying kegs. I sat up and flicked my chin at Porter. He was an ass**le but still a teammate, so I put up with his loud mouth shit… just. “Why the f**k you all so happy?”

Porter stepped forward, rubbing his hands together. “Initiations, bitches! You know what that means: drunken pu**y on tap.”

“They’d have to be drunk to f**k your rancid ass,” Austin remarked, and I smirked at his cutthroat tone. There was absolutely no love lost between the two wide receivers, history going back too far to get into.

“C’mon, guys, let’s go. We can leave if it’s a washout,” Reece said, a hint of desperation in his voice. When he came to school last year, Coach asked me to show him the ropes, you know, as the leader. I hadn’t been able to shake the little f**ker since.

Rolling back my head, I groaned, throwing the ball at the second-string QB’s head. “Fuck, Reece, you need to get laid by your own efforts. I’m sick of your randy ass needing me to hook you up. You’re a football player. Fuckin’ use it for the perks! What’s the point of playing for the Tide if you can never get your own chick?”

He ducked, ignored my jab, and smiled. “I’ll take that as we’re going! Let me change.”

I rubbed my hands down my face in exasperation, hearing the door close as Reece left the room. As I looked back up, I noticed Austin staring at the floor and Jimmy-Don, my only other close friend, flicking his head at me, hinting that I should speak to him.

Shit. I hadn’t even noticed anything was wrong.

“You okay, brother?” I asked.

Austin darted his eyes up response. The three of us were tight. I’d known Austin my whole life, the two f**ked-up kids from opposite sides of the tracks, finding each other through football. Jimmy-Don came along during our freshman year. He was a big Texan cowboy and the most genuine guy I’d ever met. Fucking hilarious too. Reece didn’t know us too well yet, and Austin didn’t fully trust him, didn’t trust anyone much. It was obvious Austin was preoccupied with something, and the minute Reece left, he’d dropped his shield.