The Wrong Picking Number

CHAPTER 17

MONROE

The party was at one of the rookie's places, a player named Angelo. It was apparently a rite of passage that the rookies got to have their homes trashed for the playoff party.

It was completely packed when the elevator door opened and we stepped into the apartment, the raucous sound of the party hitting me like a wall. My heart sank as I took in the wild scene around me, immediately feeling like a fish out of water in an unfamiliar world.

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, the noise level so loud I'd have to shout to be heard. Everywhere I looked, people were drinking and dancing, lost in a frenzy of wild abandon that left me feeling more and more out of place with each passing moment. Everyone seemed like they'd stepped out of a magazine, beautiful and polished in ways I could only dream. Other than a few guys who were wearing jerseys, I was the only girl I could see with one on. All of the other girls were dolled up in dresses fit for a club. And here I was, with my crotch ripped out.

"I'm going to find the bathroom," I told Lincoln, stopping suddenly in the front entry.

"I'll come with you," he said immediately, his hand warm on my lower back, but I shook my head. I could see a line of women down the hallway, obviously waiting their turn for the bathroom. I only needed a minute. Just to get myself ready for this night, without his overwhelming energy fogging my brain.

"I'll be right in there. Don't try to leave," he warned, like he'd stop me if I tried.

"Alright," I said with a laugh at his joke, even though there was no sign he was joking.

I got in line as he moved further into the apartment. A loud cheer went up as people noticed who had arrived. The other girls stared past me as they looked eagerly down the hallway.

"Daniels is here," they whispered excitedly to each other, before then going into explicit detail of everything they wanted to do to his body. The fact that I was wearing a jersey with his name on it didn't seem to garner any attention.

It sounded like some of them had already had the pleasure of a night with him.

"I'll never have anything like it again," a girl further up the line sighed. "I'm literally ruined, and now he wants nothing to do with me. I would literally do anything for a repeat. Anything," she emphasized.

Another girl asked for details, and I tried to block my ears, because I didn't want to imagine him doing anything with anyone else. Not when his mouth was still covered in me, and there was an ache between my legs that missed his tongue.

It was finally my turn, and I hurried into the bathroom, surprised at how clean it was despite the massive amounts of people using it for this party. The whole time I was in there, I tried to bolster my defenses. This was fine. Everything was fine. I could do this. This was the part of life that I'd missed out on. Actually having a social life.