Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Drake snorts. “How could we forget? She posted pictures of us half naked.”
“No, I was naked,” Tucker says with laughter in his tone. “Butt ass naked. Shame about the girl who got caught up in this mess.”
Drake laughs. “I’m sure getting caught with your dick in her mouth was the highlight of her year.”
“I heard her parents made her quit school,” Jamie says. “Way to go, Tuck.” He rolls his eyes at Tucker. “Did you really need to get a blowjob in the middle of a crowded hallway at a party? And why the fuck were you naked?” He shakes his head and frowns. “Fucking idiot.”
“You’re no fun.” Tucker smirks. “Take the stick out of your ass and live a little.”
“He’s too busy obsessing over Cece,” I teased.
“No, I’m not.” Jamie’s cheeks redden by the second. “I’m done with her.”
“That’s what you said last time,” Drake fires back.
“And the time before that,” I remind him. “We’re over the Cece saga. It’s time to move on, J.”
“When the fuck did this turn into a lecture about my dating life?” Jamie’s nostrils flare as he looks at Tucker. “I’m not the reason The Queen started posting about us.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault,” Tucker says in his defense.
“Stop getting fucking blow jobs in public.” Jamie slams his hand on Tucker’s back. “And we won’t have any more problems with The Queen.”
Tucker tips back his head, his laughter filling the air, making Jamie even more angry. “I would have been a fool not to let her wrap those pretty lips around me.”
Jamie groans, turning away from Tucker. He’s the serious one of the group, the cleanest, and the smartest. We all jokingly call him our house manager. Sometimes, we even call him Dad. He hates it, but we get a kick out of it.
Since the start of the year, a blogger who calls herself The Queen has been following us around and writing lies about all of us. She thinks she’s Gossip Girl, or some shit, like she has a duty to tell the student body about our dirty deeds because our parents are famous. Like we didn’t grow up with targets on our backs and know how to play the game.
It started with posts on Instagram about us. Then she created an app everyone on campus has installed on their cell phones. Every time I hear someone’s phone ding, I get a little jumpy. My parents don’t need any more drama from me, and I’d like to keep it that way for the rest of the school year. So that means no more thinking about Bex Bryant.
Drake taps my arm. “I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat before we head home. We’re out of food.”
Tucker howls with laughter. “That’s because you ate it all.”
“Fuck you.” He rubs his hand over his stomach. “My mom says I’m a growing boy. And I want pizza from Gio’s.”
“Who the fuck are you kidding? You were full grown by the time you were five,” Tucker quips. “Didn’t you start shaving when we were in fourth grade?”
“Sixth,” Drake corrects. “You’re just jealous you didn’t hit a growth spirt until our sophomore year of high school.”
I turn to Drake. “Our first game of the season is three days from now, and you want to eat junk food already?”
He holds up his middle finger with a stupid look on his face. “Kiss my ass, Cap.”
He calls me that because I’m the captain of our team.
“Stop being such a hard ass, Prez,” Trent groans. “What’s one slice of pizza?”
“You take your captain duties way too serious,” Drake says. “If Trent and Tuck can have a beer every night, then I can eat pizza.”
“Fine,” I agree because there’s no point in arguing with them. “If we lose on Friday, or you look like shit on the ice, I’m blaming all of you. All you do is jerk off.”
“More like jerk each other off,” Jamie jokes.
Drake punches Jamie’s arm. “Don’t be a dick.”
Jamie flinches from the hard hit and returns his gesture. “Asshole.”
This is a typical day for us.
We live in the same house together, eat most meals together, work out and play hockey together. Our lives are so intertwined we never have much space. Some days, I want to beat the living shit out of all of them, so they’ll give me some room to breathe.
But they are family.
And family sticks together.
“One slice,” I tell Drake. “You were sluggish at practice.”
“Easy for you to say, Prez.” Drake gives me a nasty look. “You could eat ten pizzas and never lose an ounce of muscle.”
I ignore his comment. It’s not as easy for me to stay in game-ready shape as he thinks. I have to work my ass off. Living up to the Parker name is hard enough. Everyone compares my hockey stats to my dad’s. The pressure to be as good as him, or even better, is often suffocating.