It wasn’t picturing Soren having sex that was screwing with my head though. It was who he was having sex with. Me. I was the women he was driving inside of, spread out on all fours, panting his name like pleasure was a cute little notion compared to whatever it was I was experiencing.
“What’s the matter? Your face. You’re red. Like, red, red.” Soren’s expression took on a serious tone as he hurried toward me.
“I’m fine. Just stay there.” I whipped my arm out in front of me, hand raised.
He stopped, but my unusual reaction had caught his attention. “Are you blushing? Is that the blush to end all blushes?” He squinted as he moved his head, inspecting my face. “I think it is. Here I was worried you were having an allergic reaction or something, and it’s just you blushing because I brought up doggy-style fucking.” His brows bounced as his chest pressed into my hand. I was keeping him at a literal arm’s length right now. “Turned on?”
“More like repulsed. But thanks for playing the Name That Emotion game.” I took a deep breath and moved back a few steps, trying to drain the color from my face. “Might want to work on that before you find that lucky lady you want to have your name tattooed on. You just mistook arousal for revulsion. Going to want to get that figured out.”
That damn grin. I hated it. I was obsessed with it too.
“And if I were to ask you to hand over your panties right now, they would confirm your claim?” He held out his hand, like I was just going to whip out of my panties and hand them over for inspection.
My hand settled on my hip. “Like the Sahara.”
His hand stayed in the air. “Prove it.”
“I don’t need to prove the truth. I’m not the one who cares anyways.” Turning to escape from this whole nightmare of an exchange, I opened the back door. “I’m going to go introduce myself to your friends now. I’m sure they’re far less animal than you.”
“Sahara,” he scoffed, following me through the door. “Try the Amazon instead.”
“God, Soren, will you stop? I’m not giving you my panties.” I hadn’t meant to shout that as loudly as I had, but the crowd in the kitchen didn’t seem to mind.
“I wouldn’t give them to him either. Not when I’m here,” one of the guys jeered as I shoved by.
“Where do I throw my name into that hat?” another hollered, making a lewd motion with his tongue at me.
“Keep it in your mouth, asshole.” Soren shoved up beside me, pushing the guy into a wall so I could pass. “Before I pull it over your nose and staple it to your head.”
No one mentioned anything else about my underwear after that.
“Staple it to his head?” I nudged Soren when he showed up beside me again. “Props for creativity.”
“That was nothing, believe me. That wasn’t even digging deep into my threat arsenal.”
I didn’t miss the way he seemed to be corralling me into the side of the room, the way his arm floated behind my back like he was shielding me from your everyday to your record-setting douchebags. Soren waved at a cluster of guys toward the front of the room. They were all wearing jerseys like him, beers in hand and shoving one another with their free ones.
“Friends are over there. Sure you’re still up for the intro?”
“Hey, I’m a fan of the team.” I drew my finger across the Devils cursive lettering going across the front of the jersey.
“Yeah, and they’re going to be big fans of you once they meet you.”
I was starting to figure out why he’d been hesitant about making the introduction tonight. Especially with the way his arm went around me as we approached. He didn’t like the idea of any of them flirting with me or making some play for me. Like they even would—there were plenty of aesthetically pleasing girls here tonight—but I could tell by the way Soren was acting, he felt differently.
Big brother warning his friends they better not even think about little sister?
Or was it something else? The same something else I felt when Jane and Ariel talked about Soren like he was something they couldn’t wait to test drive?
His friends noticed us coming, a couple of them stabbing their elbows into the next guy’s stomach. By the time we stopped in front of them, all of the guys were staring at us. Like they were trying to figure something out.
“Now I see why you’ve been so close-lipped about your roommate,” one of the guys up front announced, giving Soren a look like his secret was out. He pointed his beer at me, a goofy grin moving into place. “You’ve been trying to keep her all to yourself.”
Nothing was subtle about the way Soren angled in front of me. “You know shit, Derrick.”
“Come on. Cut the defensive thing.” Derrick moved so he was able to see me again. His beer pointed at the tops of our heads next. “She’s too tall for you anyway,” he said, before pointing his beer at his chest and stretching a little taller. Derrick was tall—a couple inches taller than Soren. He was trying to make those two inches seem like two feet.
“Yeah. Well, she’s too smart for you.” Soren slapped the bill of Derrick’s hat down so it covered his eyes, then he stepped in front of him. “Okay, listen up and listen good. I’m only introducing you bunch of thugs to my roommate because she asked, not because I think you have any merits or admirable qualities that deserve an introduction to her.”
“I’ll show you my merit, Decker,” one of them popped off, working at his fly.
“Merit, Callahan. Merit. Not miniature.” Soren patted Callahan’s face a few times. “Keep your bean in your pants. Last time you went searching for it, five reruns of MASH were over by the time you found it.”
A chorus of jeers followed, the herd of guys shoving at “Callahan” like he’d just been schooled. He didn’t even look fazed; he was heckling right back at them.
“What’s your roommate’s first name, Decker? I already know her last.”
“How do you know my last name?” I asked, trying again to step out from behind the wall Soren seemed to have put up in front of me, compliments of his body.
“I might not know what your last name is right now. But I definitely know what it’s going to be,” the guy replied, lifting his chin at me. “The same one as mine, mamacita.”
“I’m going to cita your mama, Mateo, if you keep hitting on my roommate.” Soren didn’t budge when I shoved him. I didn’t think he’d even felt it.
“Soren, dude, are you going to introduce us or are you going to continue the act of making yourself look like an idiot?”
When Soren didn’t answer, I ducked out from behind him so quickly he didn’t notice. “So, hey, I’m Hayden. Soren’s roommate.”
I waved at the newly quiet crowd of guys, starting to understand why Soren had been so hesitant to introduce me with the way I’d been dressed before. Even with his ginormous jersey hanging off of me, most of them were staring at my legs like they were contemplating how far they could wrap around their back. Long legs had their advantages on the runway—not so much when being introduced to a half-drunk team of college baseball players.