The Prospect

THE PROSPECT: CHAPTER SEVEN

Kiddo

The sound of my blaring ringtone woke me up the next morning and I rolled onto my side, feeling around my nightstand until my palm connected with it.

Sliding my thumb across the screen to the right, I didn't bother looking at who it was before answering. Only my fucking brothers in HSC ever called this early. And that usually meant something was wrong.

Or they needed a coffee run.

Either way, that was my job. And I was happy to have it.

"'Ello," I answered, my voice muffled with groggy sleep and hoarser than usual.

The other line was silent. "Fuckin' A, man. Hello?" I said again, louder.

My hand dropped beside me to empty space in my bed. I'd been going to bed horny and alone for well over a year. The first year of it mandated by HSC. The second year? Self-implemented after Tricia started working at the coffee shop.

C3 Bar always had club babes looking to go home with someone. But I couldn't do it last night. Not even when Melanie, a girl who hovered at the club bars just waiting to be made into an old lady, grabbed my junk through my pants.

Nope, not even then. All because Tricia dropped that bomb on me, making up some story about me being her boyfriend...

What. The. Fuck.

And then she ditched me for Jenna. Girl talk, Jenna had said, taking Tricia's hand and glaring at me as she dragged away the girl I'd been dreaming about for ten years.

"Hello," I grunted again, pulling back and checking that my reception was okay.

Full bars.

There was a quiet cough and then I heard it—her voice. Tricia.

"I—sorry, um, Kiddo?"

I shot straight up in bed and swear to God, my cock went stiff from the second I heard her breathy voice sigh into the phone.

"Yeah. It's me."

"H-hi. Yeah, this is—"

"Tricia," I said. "I know. What's wrong?" Concern slammed into me and a sudden, inexplicable anxiety clamped my guts.

"Nothing," she answered quickly and I exhaled in relief.

How the fuck did she get my number? I was drunk last night, but not so drunk I wouldn't have remembered slipping her my number.

You wanted to slip her something else, you dick.

Christ. I couldn't even have a phone call with the girl without Sam's voice making an appearance in my head.

"I hope it's okay I'm calling," she said carefully. "I called the garage and Rig gave me your cell phone."

I grunted, swinging my legs over the side of my futon and twisted to each side, cracking my back with a satisfying crunch. Goddamn, I needed to get a better bed. This piece of shit was ruining my spine.

"Tricia," I said, running my hands through my hair and going to the kitchen to start some coffee. "It's fine. What can I do for you?"

"It's just... well, we didn't really get to talk about what I said... about what I did last night."

A twinge of excitement skittered through my body, not dissimilar to the fucking jolt of satisfaction I get when hitting the gas on a new car.

She told her friends I was her boyfriend. Right there in the hallway to the bathroom after we'd had the most intense conversation I'd ever had in my life.