A lonely package of mac and cheese called to me from the cabinet, so I scrapped any plans I had to do something fancier. Nothing better than processed cheese on a winter’s night.
With my belly full of pasta, a while later I sat down at my laptop and banged out about twenty-five pages of what I had learned. So far, I had close to a hundred pages of the book I planned to either shop around to a publisher or self-publish. The title was Feminist Choice or Choice of Feminism.
I’d considered using a pen name, maybe Ariel Something, but tossed that idea out. This mission was mine, and I decided to tie my real name to the whole wagon. I’d also sent out some feelers regarding transferring to another school. It was time. I was doing this, raising my flag as the ambassador of adult-movie stars.
And if Blane’s silence wasn’t enough of a reminder, my lack of a major was.
I had an abundance of choice, right? With several dozen credits toward my degree, some money in the bank, and a promising part-time career as a barista, I had more choice than most women with only a GED or high school diploma. Although there was no escaping the fact that my savings was from filming porn. Even with all my choices, I needed the industry to get ahead . . . so there was that little fact.
At midnight, my phone pinged.
BLANE: Sorry I can’t make it. I just finished with the team.
That’s all he wrote. No promise of a rain check or confirmation of meeting his mom this weekend.
I crawled into bed and closed my eyes. My phone pinged with an e-mail a few minutes later, but I ignored it. With my mind unsettled, I drifted off to a fitful sleep.
Blane
My cock was semi-hard and ready to go again when I arrived at the field house for our team meeting. Damn, Cate could give a blow job; the way she grabbed my balls had me so revved up.
Honestly, I’d meant to spend more time with her at Chantilly, but Alex had ruined that idea. Maybe not entirely, I thought, because look what happened after stealing that cake and getting the hell out of Dodge. Christ, that cake came in handy.
I was looking forward to hurrying back to Cate’s place when I entered the locker room.
“Put it away,” someone said, and a loud, “Shut it off,” came next. The guys were huddled on the couch, all eyes on me.
“What the fuck?” I joked, trying not to be unnerved by the intensity of their stares. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”
Ashton shook his head and stood up.
“What the hell?” I said as I took off my coat and tossed it on the bench. “Are you guys having some gay combine or what? I’m not a homophobe, but seriously, can we stop canoodling and get this meeting over with?”
“Steele, I don’t want to be the one to show this to you, but someone is going to,” Alex said from the couch as he opened the laptop.
Mo punched him. “Dude, I thought we agreed to let it go until after the game tomorrow.”
“Come here,” D said, sighing as he beckoned me over.
Trying to make fun of their seriousness, I walked over to the couch and perched on the arm of it. “You guys are whacked.”
Alex gave me a sad look. “You know how someone said they’d seen a porn star at our games?” His voice was strange, all slow and calm as if he were talking to a mental patient.
“No.” I shrugged. “Where? When? Who?”
“On Twitter,” Ashton said. “Her name’s Ariel Stone; she’s new. She doesn’t get all raunchy, but she’s sexy as all get-out. Curvy and shit. Big tits—”
Mo punched Ashton in the arm, interrupting him.
“Get to the point,” I said abruptly, losing patience with this shit. “What does this have to do with me?”
Ash averted his eyes. “She’s made a name for herself for letting men come all over her chest.”
“Great, and she’s a fan?”
“Yes. She’s a fan, and a bit more,” D said.
“Gimme that.” I grabbed the laptop from Ashton and set it on my lap.
There was a video paused, so I hit PLAY and a cheesy music track came on, something that was supposed to be sexy. A man leaned over a couch, a side view that showed his naked ass pumping back and forth as he jacked himself off on a woman.
The room around me went totally silent as I watched the camera pan over the woman’s tits and across her jawline toward her eyes. She looked familiar. Her skin was flawless, her tits plump, and her face was somewhat obscured under big auburn waves . . . but the eyes were the same ones that had stared up at me earlier today.
I shut my eyes and reopened them, hoping it would be a prank, but there was Cate dressed up as some Ariel chick, moaning as a dude whacked off all over her chest.
Stunned, I looked at up and realized everyone had abandoned the couch. The guys stood huddled by the lockers, shifting nervously in place as they watched me.
I jumped to my feet and tossed the computer to the floor. It clattered and spun against the table before landing on the carpet. “Who showed you this?”
They stood there silently, not a fucking peep out of a one of them.
“What the fuck? Someone answer,” I yelled.