Free Stroker: A Bad Boy Sports Romance by Teagan Kade Page A

“Do fucking what?”
    “The sound,” he continues. “Please, god, do the sound.”
    I huff. “Fine.” ‘Arrrrgggghhhh’ I moan, in Chewbacca’s voice, beating my chest.
    The two of them stand there in silence for a second, stunned… Right before exploding with laughter.
    I pick an apple out of the fruit bowl and throw it in Billy’s direction. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”
    He has his hand out, struggling to breathe.
    Tia collapses against him crying, wiping away tears. “Says the human pubis.”
    *
    A guy in green face paint is bowing before Tia. “May the force be with you.”
    “And you,” she replies, every bit the space princess with her hair up in twin buns. I have to admit, it is kind of adorable seeing her in her element—‘adorkable’ even.
    Star Wars plays on a giant projection screen at the back of the room, the place surprisingly packed. They’ve all come out of the woodwork for this one.
    It’s easier than I expected. If I stay in character I only need to respond to people with grunts and random chest-beating. I don’t even have to show my face.
    A pixie-like girl I’ve seen around the place comes running up to us. Her hair looks suspiciously like the American flag. “Tia, hi!”
    “Lacey!” Tia beams, hugging her. She turns towards me, arm in arm with her new friend. “Chewie, this is Lacey, the gymnast.”
    I give a grunt. ‘Gymnast’ rings alarm bells. I thought I’d been through the entire team, but not this girl. Ethan maybe.
    Lacey raises her eyebrows. “Not much of a talker, are you, Blake?”
    Fuck.
    Tia looks confused. “How did you—”
    “The eyes,” Lacey points. “It’s always the eyes.”
    I put my hands up, dropping the act. “You got me.”
    Lacey swipes a neon blue cocktail off an alien robot with tray passing between us. “So, Johnson & Johnson, what brings you to the wildlands? Shouldn’t you be at The Trophy Room in your natural element instead of slumming it here with the weirdos?”
    I’ve really been missing out if all weirdos are like Tia and Lacey. “I’m a big Star Wars fan. What can I say?”
    Lacey’s not about to let that fly. “Would you rather be a Jedi or a Sith?”
    Little does she know I’ve done my homework. “A Jedi, naturally, specifically part of the Jedi Sentinel Class given they’re more covert and technologically advanced than the Consulars and Guardians.”
    Lacey spits out half her drink. She squints. “Who are you and what have you done with Blake Johnson? And ‘covert’? The last thing you are is covert. What about the time you and that girl from—”
    “Drink, Tia?” I interrupt, starting to sweat a little more than I should in this fur ball.
    “Sure,” Tia replies, allowing me beautiful, sweet release to get out of there and find the bar.
    Han Solo nods as I approach it, cleaning a glass. “There you are, Chewie. What’ll it be? Rancor blood? Settov Hammer? Wookie-wango?”
    I shake my head. “Just give me a beer.”
    Han winks. “You got it, big boy.”
    *
    After a couple of bantha milk cocktails, Tia’s in a galaxy far, far away, skipping around Lacey and I as we head back to the apartment.
    “As Tia’s newly acquired BFF, I have to ask,” says Lacey, “what are your intentions for her?”
    “My intentions?” I scoff, thankful to be free of the Chewbacca head at least.
    “You going to pump and dump her like you do every other girl on campus?” It seems Lacey’s filter-free too.
    “She’s Coach Reed’s daughter. She’s a no fly zone.”
    “And when has that stopped you getting your dick wet?”
    Whoa. I take a deep breath. “Coach Reed’s done a lot for me. I’m not looking to fuck that up. Besides, she’s not my type.” Even as the words leave my mouth I know they’re bullshit. She’s more than my type. She’s smart, funny, and honest. I almost think more about her smile than her ass, which is, truth be told, kind of strange.
    Lacey, however, is far from convinced. “Guess we shall