Score (Skin in the Game Book 1) Read online

  “Yo, check it out. Your two o’clock.” He said it in the reverent tone he usually reserved for a stellar catch on the football field that made me wonder if a unicorn had just graced us with its presence.

  I looked up in time to see a girl descending the staircase. She was the definition of the word stunning, with dark skin and black, silky hair piled on top of her head. Her tight dress barely covered her ass, and she had crazy long legs capped off with knee-high boots.

  She sauntered in as if she owned the place, and hell, every member of D-Phi would’ve probably gladly given her the keys and the deed, right there.

  Pathetic that all I could think was, Same shit, different day.

  Another set of legs came into view, encased in a pair of sturdy snow boots, and a pair of thick jeans. It wasn’t until the figure continued down the stairs that I perked up.

  Bee.

  Likely, no one noticed her, not after Miss Thang’s big entrance. She had her head down and kept gnawing on her lip like she’d rather be anywhere else. She was wearing a big, loose sweater, and her hair was covered in snow crystals. But I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  Without even thinking about it, I sprang up from the couch as fast as my bum knee would let me and wove my way through the crowds, to where they were standing by the keg.

  “Hello, ladies,” I said.

  Bee’s friend looked at me and smiled like a cat that got the canary. She nudged Bee and said, “Well, that’s what I call a Bee-line.”

  Bee blushed. “Hi. Um. Cal, this is Flora. Flora, um, Cal.” She pointed to her friend, making awkward introductions.

  “I’m glad you guys could come,” I said. “Can I get you a beer?”

  Bee’s eyes widened as if she’d never had a beer in her life. She opened her mouth to say something just as Johnson hip-checked me. “Well, who do we have here?” he said, eyes glued on Flora. “Introduce me to your friend?”

  I introduced both of them, even though it was pretty clear he was only interested in Flora.

  He grinned. “Flora. Love it. You are indeed a beautiful flower. We need a fourth for Beer Pong. You up for it?”

  The two girls exchanged looks, and Bee nudged her on. “Go ahead,” she said. “Have fun.”

  She smiled at Johnson. “Okay. Yeah. But I warn you, I’m pretty much a pro.”

  He led her away, leaving me alone with Bee.

  “Hey,” I said, handing her my full beer. “Here. Take this one. I’ll get another.”

  I swiped a full beer off the bar and we navigated to a corner, away from the keg.

  “I gotta admit, I’m surprised you came,” I admitted.

  “I’ve never been to a frat party, actually,” she said, taking in the sights like a wide-eyed tourist. “Is that lame?”

  I shook my head. “You haven’t missed much. See all these people? A lot of them think they’re missing out on life whenever they miss a single party, but it’s not true.” I pointed toward the door. “What happens out there, that’s life. This is just…something to fill the time.”

  She wrinkled her nose. How did I not notice she had a cute nose?

  “If that’s what you think, why are you here? Why aren’t you out experiencing life?” She made little quotes with her one hand, and the other lifted the beer to her lips. She took a sip and winced.

  “Biding my time, I guess,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her that my bum knee was well on its way to changing my life in a dramatic way, but she probably guessed that, anyway. Change the subject. “You don’t seem to be a fan of the beer. Are you telling me you’ve never drank beer before?”

  “Oh, no, I have. This is just particularly…bad. Can this even be classified as beer?”

  I nodded in agreement. “You’re right. It’s more like warm piss. You get used to the taste, though.”

  She grimaced, but that didn’t stop her from taking another sip. “I don’t think I want to.”

  I laughed and looked up at the staircase, just in time to see Renee Clayton stroll in.

  Shit. Just what I needed.

  Renee was another serial frat-bunny. I’d dated her sophomore and part of junior year. At first, it was just hooking up, but we did that so much we eventually became a couple. We never attempted to define it, really, so when she started hooking up with other guys and I found myself not really giving a shit, we kind of just drifted. But Renee was used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it. Lately, she’d been coming by my apartment, texting me more, showing up at parties she knew I’d be at, looking killer hot. I’d been putting her off for weeks, knowing I needed to focus on my recovery, but she wasn’t getting the hint.

  “Tasting better?” I asked Bee as she downed another gulp.

  I’d managed to guide her so that I was facing the wall, hoping Renee wouldn’t see me. It didn’t work. A second later, two soft hands covered my eyes, and her overly sweet perfume filled my nostrils.

  “Guess who?”

  I tugged away from her as gently as I could. “Hey. How are you?” I said in a monotone, hoping she’d get the picture and scram.

  She snaked her arms around my back and pulled me to her so that her tits rubbed against my chest. “Hi, Baby,” she cooed.

  I untangled her arms from me, trying not to cause a scene but the way Bee’d suddenly started looking at me—like she’d swallowed nails—I could tell she was about three seconds away from bolting up the stairs.

  “Hey,” I said, grabbing Bee’s wrist. “Bee, have you met Renee? Renee, this is my girlfriend, Bee.”

  It came out so fast, and the music was so loud, that I wasn’t sure if Bee heard it until her jaw swung open.

  “Wait. What?”

  Renee raked her blue gaze over Bee’s every feature before giving her a tight smile. “Oh. Hi.” Then she looked at me, one brow raised. “You’re serious, Cal?”

  I threw an arm around Bee, whose shoulders stiffened immediately. “Yep.”

  “No, wait,” Bee started. “He’s drunk and—”

  I pinched Bee’s side gently and pulled her closer.

  “Ow!”

  She lifted her foot and brought her heel down hard on the top of my Nike. It didn’t hurt. Or, not enough to wipe the smile of romantic bliss off my face, at any rate.

  “We weren’t putting labels on it, but yeah. She’s my lady now.” I had started enjoying myself at that point and kissed the top of Bee’s head for good measure.

  She stood there motionless aside from subtly grinding her foot into the top of mine. Then she mumbled through clenched teeth, “Yep. This is my man.”

  Renee just stared at us. Okay, yeah, maybe she wasn’t buying it legit, but I was desperate. If it got her off my case, it was all worth it.

  Across the makeshift bar, someone was calling for volunteers to play another lame party game, Screw, the D-Phi version of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Perfect excuse to make our exit before Bee cracked under the pressure.

  I pulled her by the wrist and raised my hand.

  “Here,” I called past Renee. “We’ll play.”

  Bee dug her heels in. “Play what? Oh, hell no,” she pleaded in a low, desperate voice. “I don’t even know how to play, Cal.”

  “It’s fine,” I said to her over the strains of an old Radiohead song. “It’s called Screw. Just follow my lead. It’s easy.”

  She trailed behind me, leaving Renee staring after us.

  It was only after I got to the bar and looked at the giant dice that I remembered that while most girls would probably be fine with this, Bee wasn’t most girls.

  “Look,” I murmured, leaning down so only she could hear me. Across the room, I could still see Renee’s hard gaze on us and it was making this terrible idea seem better by the second. “Just play along, would you? I’ll owe you big time. I’ll tell your professor that you were the best therapist I ever had. I’ll tell him having your healing hands on me was like a religious experience.”

  She pressed her lips together but she didn’t pull
away from me as we stepped up to the bar. Weber, our Master of Ceremonies, looked us over. His brow wrinkled.

  “Wait. You,” he asked, pointing at me and then dragging his finger toward Bee. He leaned into me. “And her? You sure? I thought I saw Renee here.”

  I fought the urge to smack him upside the head. “Stop shitting around and just hand her the die.”

  He shrugged at me in an It’s-your-funeral kind of way.

  Bee did that little lip-gnawing thing. “What do I have to do?”

  “Simple,” Weber said. “Roll the die, remove everything south of the body part listed, then step inside the closet with the man of your choice.”

  Bee wrinkled her nose and stared at the giant pink die on the table. She looked about two seconds away from charging the nearest exit. A crowd had gathered around us, and they were all egging her on. I saw her shoot a glance at her friend, Flora, who was tucked in a corner talking awfully close with Andrews, who must’ve given up on his threesome idea.

  Finally, she muttered something that sounded like a spell or a curse under her breath, picked up the die and tossed it.

  It bounced once, teetering between WAIST and KNEES, but once it hit the edge of the bar, it whirled and skidded to a stop.

  I peered at it and breathed a sigh of relief.

  ANKLES.

  Perfect. If it was higher than waist, I was going to have to cart her out of there with some excuse because there was no way she would do it.

  The crowd was less than thrilled, though, and erupted in boos and jeers.

  Bee seemed oblivious of the outcome until she peered down to get a closer look and then groaned. “I have to take off my boots? The floor here is gross.”

  I couldn’t hold back my grin. Leave it to Bee. “Hey. It could’ve been a lot worse.”

  I picked up the die and gave it a toss. Immediately, the crowd broke into a deafening roar. I craned my neck to see the word written there.

  It had landed on CHIN.

  “It’s worse,” I muttered.

  For the first time since walking in, her lips split into a genuine smile.

  “Interesting.” Then, as if the reality of it finally set in, her smile dimmed and she swallowed hard. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she murmured, leaning into me.

  I checked over all the heads of people waiting for me to strip down to my boxers, and saw Renee, watching me intently.

  Shit.

  Then I reached down and pulled my t-shirt over my head. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

  I tossed my shirt on the bar as Johnny Cash’s I Walk the Line started to play overhead. Then I pulled off my pants and pretended to swing them around like a stripper, to the hoots and hollers of everyone in the room. Bee quietly removed her boots and tiptoed to the closet with her head down.

  A grinning Weber held the door open for us. “We expect you to be on your worst behavior in there, got it?”

  “Fuck off,” I said to him as the door snapped shut, leaving me and Bee in complete darkness. The closet smelled like mothballs and was about the size of my locker at the gym. I could feel her there, only about an inch away from me. Her breath was coming about a mile a minute and I realized with a start that mine wasn’t much slower.

  Say something, asshole.

  “Well, this is awkward.”

  Very smooth, Cal. No wonder you’re such a hit with the ladies.

  But she let out a short laugh and some of the tension seemed to leave her body. “This from the guy who just did a strip tease for an entire roomful of people? I figured you were high on liquid courage. Or is that ego all natural?”

  “I’m not drunk. I’ve had a couple, sure, but my faculties are intact.”

  “Okay, then. What are we supposed to do in here for the next seven minutes?” she asked.

  “We don’t have to do anything.”

  I should’ve left it like that. It would’ve made things so much easier. But the words were out before I could stop them.

  “If you don’t want to.”

  The silence was thicker than molasses and the tension was back, tenfold.

  “If I don’t want to? What about you?”

  “I could think of something to pass the time.”

  She let out a tinny laugh. “Considering the name of this game is called Screw, I’m worried about what.”

  I found myself grinning again, which seemed to happen a lot when Bee was around. “Nah. I will make sure your ankles leave here with their virtue intact. Because you’re mine. I walk the line.”

  “What?” she demanded, her voice not much more than a strangled squeak.

  “The song.”

  Her mumbled response was so low, I had to lean down to hear it. “Oh, duh. Yeah.”

  I knew she was blushing. I could almost feel the heat coming off her cheeks in the darkness. “I wish I could have the same assurances from you,” I teased softly. “You know, me being nearly naked, and all. Most girls wouldn’t hesitate to use this to their advantage.”

  “You’re safe. Believe me,” she said in a rush. I heard her exhale and felt her warm breath on my chest.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. Once I got started, I couldn’t resist egging her on. “Because you know, you’re so close to me, and it’s so dark, and…you’re not even thinking about it?”

  “Uh. No.” Her hand went up and grazed my bare arm but she yanked it away like it was on fire. “Oh. Er. Sorry.”

  I laughed again. “You didn’t touch anything inappropriate.”

  “Oh, well, thank God. How long do we have to stay in here, again?”

  “Seven minutes. If you’re hinting that you want to stay longer, that could be arranged.”

  “No! Look, I didn’t sign up for this,” she said, her voice going reed thin. “A party, a few drinks, sure. You better tell Professor Maxwell I’m a healing goddess. It’s freezing in here. This is cruel and unusual.”

  She was rambling, and I was pretty sure I knew why.

  She could play chilly all she liked, but she wanted me. She didn’t want to want me. But she did.

  The blood rushed to my cock as her scent filled my head. “Well, just imagine how I feel. I’m the one with almost no clothes on.”

  Honestly, I was feeling the best I had all day. I wasn’t in that smoky house with the same old drunk assholes. I was with Bee in a closet and she was being kind of adorable. I could’ve stayed in there a hell of a lot longer than seven minutes. “I have to thank you, though. You saved me from Renee out there.”

  “Saved you?” she said with a snort-laugh, sounding comfortable for the first time since we’d entered the closet. “She’s gorgeous. Why wouldn’t you want to be with her?”

  “She’s a pretty face, so I should nail her, huh? You don’t think very much of us football players, do you? We’re all shallow?”

  “No, I—”

  “It’s cool. You don’t know me, and everyone has a right to their opinion.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said after a while, sounding miserable.

  I wasn’t even really mad, but I couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “Prove it.”

  She swallowed hard enough for me to hear it. “Like…what do you mean?”

  What did I mean? Instead of thinking it to death, I led with my gut. I reached out a hand, making contact with her hair then slid down to stroke the silky skin of her cheek. She sucked in a breath as I tipped her chin up and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  I half-expected her to pull away or sock me or something. But she didn’t. Her lips parted on a gasp, so I slipped my tongue in there. Teasing, sliding, tasting. And hell, I don’t know what she did with that beer because I couldn’t detect a trace of it on her—she tasted sweet, and warm, and her lips were so fucking pillowy and soft.

  I could’ve stayed there forever.

  Her hands stayed at her side for a long moment, then slid around my back, as she let out a soft, sexy little moan. The kiss got heavy and hard and hot, and at that
point I didn’t need breath—I could live on this feeling alone. She crushed her full breasts against me and I ran my hands down to that amazing ass of hers, for the first time wishing to hell she hadn’t rolled ANKLES.

  I wanted to explore the rest of her body the way I was exploring her mouth, but I knew I had to take it slow. I lifted her sweater and slipped my fingers under the waistband of her jeans, cupping those sexy, smooth hips. My cock pushed against her abdomen, attempting to fight its way out of my boxers as the adrenaline coursed through me.

  She pulled away suddenly and let out a soft sigh that sounded like music. “What are we doing?” she murmured, sounding lost and confused, but not stepping out of my embrace, either.

  “I don’t know,” I said, honestly. This wasn’t the plan. Hell, I hadn’t even expected her to show up. But now that she was here, it was all I could do to keep my hands off her. “Do you want to stop?” I asked. The rasp of my voice gave away how bad I wanted her, but I didn’t care.

  The pause felt like a year and then, to my surprise, she whispered, “No.”

  Slowly, her hands slid up my bare chest. I followed suit, trailing my fingers up to her ribcage, to the band of her bra. I paused there, wondering if I should dare to take the next step. If she’d even let me. But everything about her right now had surprised me, and in a fucking awesome way, so I went for it. I cupped her full breast in one hand and used the other to press her even closer, groaning into her mouth when her hips flexed against mine. The urge to tug those jeans down and cup her pussy—test that soft flesh to see if she was as wet as I was hard—was so strong, it sent the blood roaring in my ears.

  Her nipple peaked and I plucked at it gently through the silky fabric of her bra. When she shivered in my arms, the thrumming of my cock became a throbbing ache. She was so responsive that the need to make her shiver or moan just one more time eclipsed everything else. The music from the party, the cramped closet, it all faded to black and Bee Mitchell became the focal point of my world.

  My fingertips dug into the lush flesh of her hip as I grinded against her. She whimpered, and I wedged a hand between us, tearing my mouth from hers.

  “Jesus, Bee. I need to touch you so b—”

  The door flew open without warning, casting us both in blinding light, and applause filled the air.