Chapter 37: Naughty & Nice: Chapter 37

I hate this.

Since moving to South Carolina and embarking on life at Trinity Royal College, I’ve felt like I’ve found my true home.

The team house was my haven. A place where I could hang out with my boys. A place to party, a place to let go, to celebrate the wins, commiserate the losses, and most importantly, hook up with every and any willing girl.

God, that makes me sound like a whore.

Fuck. I am a whore.

Or… I was.

Since being back, I haven’t been short of offers.

Lacey—aka blonde with no panties—has been lingering like a bad rash. She rubs herself up against me and ensures I know that she’s still missing her underwear at any possible opportunity.

Old me would have been all over it.

New me… not so much.

I sink lower in my seat, internally groaning that I’ve resorted to giving myself two distinct personas.

The heavy beat of the music filling the entire ground floor of the house should inspire me. It should fire me up to party long into the night, celebrating the birth of a new year. A new chapter in all our lives.

We’re on fire this season; we’re right on the cusp of having the Titans’ best season in years.

I should be ready for it. I should be eager to get back to training, to kill our final games, and to end with a championship under our belt.

But I’m not. Or at least, not as much as I should be.

My head isn’t set on the future and all the challenges that lie ahead.

It’s stuck in the past.

Six very specific days in the past.

“Hey Wilder,” Lacey purrs before taking it upon herself to climb on my lap.

She straddles my thighs, having no shame that her already obscenely short skirt rises even higher, letting me see… you guessed it.

I stare at her blankly.

I hate to be stereotypical, but she really is being blonde.

I’ve given her no sign that I’m interested since returning to the house. Sure, in the past I may have. Even as recently in the car on the way home, something I’m now really regretting. But I couldn’t help myself. My need to get a reaction out of Noelle was unignorable.

I got to her the morning we left Canada. Worse than that. I hurt her.

I didn’t mean to. I was angry. I was…

I was scared.

Fuck. I hate admitting that. Even to myself.

I was scared about leaving that place.

I thought I had the most perfect life here. It was everything I ever dreamed of.

And then this Christmas happened.

It changed something in me. Something I didn’t want to change. Something I didn’t allow to be changed. But something that changed nonetheless.

Seeing Noelle and Hendrix together… Being with Noelle and Hendrix…

It opened my eyes, and sadly, my heart and vulnerabilities.

And… I miss them.

I miss being with them. I miss being myself—my true self—not the version I allow everyone else to see.

I put on a mask with everyone else. I hide my pain, my insecurities, and I make out I’m something I’m not. The guy everyone here knows is an arrogant jerk. Even I can admit that. I didn’t realize how exhausting it is to constantly be that version of me.

“What’s wrong?” Lacey whines. “I thought you’d be ready to party tonight.”

Yeah, me too.

“I’m not in the mood,” I mutter, unwilling to indulge her.

She shifts on my lap, shamelessly trying to drag up some interest.

Sadly, there is none. My body doesn’t react to her in any way.

No, that’s not true. It reacts, just not in the way it should, or at least in the way it used to.

I’m broken.

Noelle broke me.

And for some reason, I’ve no interest in getting fixed anytime soon.

“Aw, I’m sure I can change that. How about we go somewhere a little quieter and celebrate the new year, just the two of us?”

Lifting my eyes, I glance at the clock on the other side of the room and my stomach bottoms out.

The new year is approaching, and I’m sitting here wishing that I were somewhere else.

Wrapping my hands around Lacey’s waist, I lift her from my lap.

“I thought that might get your interest,” she purrs, wrapping her arms around my shoulders as if I’m about to carry her up to my room and spend the night fucking her into next year—literally. “What the fuck?” she squeals as I throw her down on the couch.

She bounces, her skirt riding up over her ass and causing a few of the guys in the room to holler and whistle. But while they might be interested in what she has to offer, I couldn’t give a fuck. Without looking more than necessary, I spin on my heels and take off through the house.

A few of the guys try to talk to me, but most give me a wide berth. They’ve already experienced my shitty attitude in the past few days; they’re more than happy not to be on the wrong end of it again.

I stumble out of the front door, the fresh air immediately mixing with the alcohol I’ve consumed in the hope of drowning everything out.

I’ve tried since almost the moment I walked back into this house, but as of yet, the only thing it’s successfully delivered are killer hangovers.

We’ve been planning tonight for months. It was billed to be the football party of all parties. I mean, I’m sure it is. I’m just blind to it.

I check my watch as I take off down the driveway.

It’s lined with cars and people who are still arriving to celebrate the new year with the team.

“Wilder,” someone calls, but I don’t so much as bother looking over.

I have somewhere else I need to be, and if I don’t hurry, I’m going to miss the deadline.

I don’t want to celebrate the new year with these guys. Sure, they’re my teammates. They’re important to me. But not important enough.

I take off running. The house is two miles away, right on the other side of campus, and midnight is closing in.

Unless I go at full speed, there’s a chance I won’t make it.

That’s not a possibility.

I have to get there.

I have to say the words I’ve been holding back all week.

I have to bring in the new year with the two most important people in my life.

I have to apologize.

My legs and lungs burn, but the house is in my sights. I’m feet away, and I’ve still got seven minutes.

Putting everything I’ve got into the final stretch, I push harder, knowing that the end is in sight.

As I race up the driveway, I pull my keys from my pocket. I can’t ring the bell. The second they see it’s me, they’ll probably put the deadlocks on and refuse to let me in. It would be understandable if they did.

My hand trembles with anticipation and exhaustion as I push the key into the lock, but my adrenaline is still pumping, and the second the door is unlocked, I throw it open, sending it crashing back against the wall, fucking up any chance I had at a calm entrance.

I don’t know where they are. Chances are good that they’re in bed fucking. Couldn’t blame them if they are, but I’d quite like to get their full attention as I gate-crash their night.

Thankfully, as I rush into the house, I find light coming from the living room, along with the sound of the TV.

I grind to a halt in the doorway just as Hendrix jumps over Noelle as if they’re being raided by an armed madman.

I want to say that it’s only me and she doesn’t need protecting, but I’m not entirely sure that’s true. I’ve already hurt her, and something tells me that I’ll probably do it again, even if it is unintentional.

Their eyes are wide as they stare at me, but thankfully, they do relax a little.

Hendrix’s mouth opens to say something, probably to demand I get the fuck out of their house, but in a rush, I beat him to it.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I’m really fucking sorry.”

It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near e-fucking-nough. But it’s all I’ve got right now.

Neither of them says anything as the guy on the TV announces that there are three minutes to go.

Please don’t send me away.

Please.

My heart races and every muscle in my body is pulled tight.

If they send me away then… then I’m going to spend the new year alone and out in the cold.

That isn’t the kind of start to the year anyone wants.

I deserve it. I really fucking do.

But… I don’t want it.

I want them.

“Wilder,” Noelle finally sighs. The sound of her voice instantly makes something within me relax.

Hendrix, though, isn’t going to be so easy to break.

“Shouldn’t you be at a party with five girls hanging off you right now?” he snaps.

“I left,” I explain. “I didn’t want to be there. I don’t want to be there. They’re my teammates, sure. But… they’re not you two.”

Noelle’s expression softens more, but Hendrix isn’t willing to budge.

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that before acting the way you did.”

“I’m sorry. I was hurt, and it was a stupid thing to do.

“Last week… Last week was everything. Spending time with you both like we did. Noelle,” I say, focusing on her, “getting to know that other side of you… I didn’t want to come back to my life here and the way I was before.”

“But you did,” she argues. Her cheeks redden before a confession bursts free. “The photos on Instagram… all you’ve done all week is party and hook up.”

“All I’ve done all week is be miserable.

“I thought I wanted that. The wild nights, the parties, the girls. But I don’t. I want that,” I say pointing at their little love nest.

“I want quiet but wild nights with you guys. I want to be where I can be me.

“I want to be the version of myself that I was with you both last week.”

Despite the fact I’ve been thinking these words all week, they still sound foreign coming out of my mouth.

For years, I’ve dreamed of what college life might be like. I’ve imagined the parties, the girls, the fun. And yeah, it has been great, don’t get me wrong. But it’s taken me away from my family, from the people who mean the most to me.

The two people who mean everything to me.

“One minute to go,” the guy on the TV announces. “Grab your drink and shimmy close to the one you want to kiss at midnight.”

Fuck. My heart jumps into my throat.

This is it. Now or never.

“I know it’s crazy. I know it’s weird. I know you two have just got together, and I’m so fucking happy for you, but⁠—”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Noelle, I want you too,” I say in a rush. “I want what we had last week. Please, I know it’s crazy, but… but will you consider it?”

Silence.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…”

She’s going to say no.

They’re going to say no.

Emotion burns up the back of my throat, and fuck if my nose doesn’t itch with impending tears.

Don’t cry. Do not fucking cry.

“I’m sorry, Noelle. I didn’t mean a word of⁠—”

“Three, two…”

Everything happens so fast. Both of them move as the final countdown continues until they’re standing right before me.

“One.”

Hendrix wraps his hand around the back of Noelle’s neck, whispers “Happy new year,” and then slams his lips down on hers.

Pain slices through my chest.