The Dixon Rule (Campus Diaries, 2)

Hey, can my best friend fuck you?

THE PARTY IS WINDING DOWN, BUT MY HEARTBEAT IS STILL COMPLETELY out of control.

I kissed Shane Lindley.

It was out of spite and to win a game, but still.

What I did was unacceptable. It was egregious. It was—

The hottest kiss ever?

Oh my God, fuck off, I order my traitorous inner voice. How can my own subconscious betray me like this?

And yet the thought persists. Maybe I did feel a teeny, tiny tingle of arousal from that kiss. How could I not when his erection was pressing against me? And it was…substantial. A generous penis, as my friend Brooke described a boyfriend’s package once.

Unfortunately, that generous penis belongs to the cocky, insufferable Shane Lindley. Therefore, I will not be partaking in that penis, thank you very much.

Will Larsen pulls me aside as I’m dumping empty beer bottles into a garbage bag. I’m not sure how I got roped into cleanup duty considering this wasn’t my party.

“Hey, can I crash at your place tonight?” he asks in a low voice.

I give him a strange look. “Why? You live so close. And you don’t seem too drunk to walk a few blocks.”

“Yeah, I’m not even buzzed.” He glances over his shoulder.

I follow his gaze and spot Beckett and Lily. I heard her agree to go home with him tonight, and she’s draped over him like a cashmere scarf.

“C’mon, Di. Let me crash. And, uh, maybe act like we’re gonna hook up?”

I snort.

“I’m serious,” Will says. “Just…you know…make it look like I have a reason to go upstairs with you.”

The pleading flash in his brown eyes is cause for alarm. He only recently moved in with Beck and Ryder, right after Shane moved to Meadow Hill. So why doesn’t he want to go home? It’s been a week. They can’t already be having roommate issues.

But I’m unable to ignore a man in distress, so when Shane joins us, I shove the garbage bag at him and reach for his teammate’s hand.

With a wink, Will laces his fingers through mine and calls out to Beckett. “Hey, go on without me. I’m gonna crash here.”

Beckett seems startled for a moment. Then he notices our intertwined hands, and the corners of his mouth tick up. “Got it. See you tomorrow.”

Once Beckett and Lily are gone, I tug on Will’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

Shane’s jaw drops. “Really? You assholes aren’t gonna help?” He points to the tables still laden with pizza boxes and empties.

I smirk at him. “Not my party, not my responsibility.”

Will merely shrugs. “Sorry, bro. I’ve got other plans.”

Shane glares at his teammate. “Don’t do this, man. She’s going to eat you alive. There’s still time to make the right decision.”

“He’s just jealous,” I assure Will. “I swear, this guy is obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” Shane growls. “And don’t forget who kissed who.”

“Don’t forget whose penis got hard and whose vagina got dry.”

“You were wetter than the Atlantic,” he shoots back.

“Dryer than the Sahara. But it’s okay. I’m positive you’ll be able to turn on a woman someday. Just keep practicing on your sex doll.”

Fluttering my free hand in a careless wave, I pull Will away from the pool area toward the path home. A glance over my shoulder reveals a sullen Shane, broad shoulders hunched, clearing up the rest of the mess.

“You could be nicer to him,” Will tells me. The full moon clearly reveals the amused curve of his mouth.

“I could,” I agree. “But I won’t.”

I’ll also never give him the satisfaction of knowing how much I enjoyed kissing him. Why are the arrogant jerks always the best kissers?Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Once we’re safely inside Red Birch and I’ve closed my apartment door behind us, Will offers a sincere look and says, “Thanks for doing this.”

“Are you really staying over?”

He nods. “It’s still cool, right?”

“I mean, yes, but…”

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything to happen.”

“Well, good. Because nothing’s happening. But I do require an explanation in exchange for room and board.”

“You have like an extra sheet and blanket or something I can throw on the couch?”

“Don’t be silly. You’re going to sleep in my bed. It’s big enough for both of us. You’ll have to endure my beauty routine, though. I refuse to go to bed without taking care of my skin.” I study him. “Actually, you could use some face TLC too. You have a bit of a sunburn.”

“I worked outside all week.”

“All right. Come into my office.”

He smiles, drawing my attention to his boy-next-door looks. He’s just that classic all-American guy, the one who wears his letterman jacket in high school, graduates college with a very practical degree, and marries a woman who’ll give him 2.5 kids and bake cookies on the weekends. Then in the fall, they go to pumpkin patches together and take family pictures, posing in matching orange sweaters.

“You okay there?”

I snap out of my reverie. “Sorry. I was picturing you at a pumpkin patch.”

“Was I naked?”

“Of course not. That would scare the other families.”

He’s puzzled. “I was there with family?”

“Long story.”

Will chuckles. “Okay.”

We walk into the bathroom, where I pull out the exfoliant I use once a week. I twist off the lid on the tub of pinkish-white substance.

“First, we exfoliate,” I explain.

To his credit, he doesn’t complain at all. He follows my instructions, and we’re both laughing our asses off as I rub the grainy substance all over his face. After we wash off the exfoliant, I reach for the next product.

“Now we mask up. This needs to stay on for fifteen minutes.”

He balks as he watches me squeeze a glob of black goo onto my fingers. “What the hell is that? Charcoal?”

“There’s charcoal in it. Trust me, your eye bags will thank me in the morning.”

After I apply the mask onto our faces, we walk into my bedroom to wait it out.

Will glances down at his swim trunks, then at the bed. “These are still damp. What are the chances you have some men’s boxers lying around?”

“Actually.” I brighten. “I do.”

He narrows his eyes. “Please tell me they’re clean.”

“They are. My younger brother has a drawer for when he stays over,” I say, going to the dresser. In the bottom drawer, I find a pair of plaid boxers. I hold them up by the waistband and study Will’s hips. “He’s around your size, so these should fit. Might be a little tight, but that just means I get to stare at your bulge.”

He grins and catches the bundle of plaid when I toss it at him. I grab my own pj’s and change in the bathroom, returning to my room to find Will has made himself comfortable on the bed. His bare legs, dusted with light brown hair, stretch out in front of him. He’s got some hair on his chest too, but not a lot, and of course, he possesses the six-pack abs of a hockey player.

“So what’s the deal? Are you not enjoying living with Ryder and Beckett? Too crowded or something? Because Ryder’s moving out after the wedding,” I remind him. Gigi and her husband signed a lease for an apartment that becomes available in September.

“No, I love it there. It’s a million times better than the dorms. And Ryder’s never even home.”

“Got it. So it’s Beckett we’re avoiding.”

“We’re not avoiding anybody.”

“Then why didn’t you want to go home tonight?”

“Didn’t feel like walking.”

“Is that what we do now, we lie to each other? We’re supposed to be best friends, William.”

He snickers. “No we’re not.”

“Fine. Best friend adjacent. You and Gigi are close. Therefore, you and I are close.” I flop down beside him on the mattress. “Spill the tea.”

“Nah. I’d much rather discuss how you made out with Lindley tonight. I think he enjoyed it.”

“Oh, definitely. Things were poking out of his swim trunks for sure.”

“Things?”

“Well, only one thing. His dick,” I say helpfully.

Will snorts out a laugh. “Yeah, I got that.”

“Anyway, stop deflecting. Why are we avoiding Beckett?”

“It’s…complicated.”

He releases a heavy breath that piques my interest.

“Wait. Are you two…?” I raise a brow suggestively.

“No.”

“You sure? Sometimes I get some bi vibes from him. Not from you, though.” I shrug. “Either way, I’m not judging.”

“Nah, it’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then?”

Will bites his lip, visibly uncomfortable. But I can tell from his expression that he wants to talk about it.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I assure him. “Not even Gigi.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m serious. I’m an excellent secret-keeper. Ask me what Brooke Sato did in Mexico last winter.”

“What did she do?”

“I’m not telling you. It’s a secret.”

That gets me another bark of laughter. “All right, you pass the first test.”

“I won’t breathe a word, I promise.”

Will runs both hands through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck. “Beckett and I have been doing this, uh, thing lately. Well, really, we’ve been doing it since we became friends.”

“What thing?”

“Like…” He offers an awkward shrug. “Threesomes.”

I attempt to keep an impartial face. “Okay…”

I may have already known, thanks to the rumor mill, AKA Gigi, that Will and Beck had hooked up with the same girl a few times. But that information was given to me in confidence, so I pretend this is the first I’m hearing of it.

“Threesomes can be fun,” I say neutrally.

“They’re hot,” he admits.

“Okay.”

“Really hot.”

“Okay.” I keep my tone encouraging, hoping it will get him talking in more than two-word sentences. “Then what’s the problem?”

He responds with a frustrated groan. “The problem is, I’m not supposed to think they’re hot.”

I bite my lip to stop from laughing. He sounds so tormented. “You’re allowed to enjoy group sex, Will. It doesn’t make you gay or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried about that at all. I just…” He trails off, and before I can push him to finish, he points to his face and says, “Shouldn’t this come off?”

“Oh crap. Yes.” I scramble off the bed. “We need to wash now, or it’ll dry out our skin.”

We return to the bathroom to scrub our respective faces. Afterward, I take a small silver tube out of my moisturizer drawer.

“This is our finishing move. The best moisturizer you’ll ever experience. It has collagen in it, but that’s basically the only confirmed ingredient. The manufacturer keeps the exact recipe a mystery, so for all I know it’s made from zebra tears and alligator semen—”

Will keels over with a howl.

“—but whatever it is, it’s life-changing. Trust me, you’ll love it. Give me your face.”

He obediently lowers his head so he’s not towering over me, and I rub the collagen gel into his freshly exfoliated skin. His stubble abrades my fingertips as I drag them over his cheeks and along the line of chin. His jaw is chiseled out of stone. I can see why women are equally eager to jump him as they are Beckett.

“Anyway,” I say, studying his reflection in the mirror as I moisturize my own face. “Back to these threesomes you’re having with Beckett that you don’t want to enjoy.”

“It’s more than that. It’s…like, I’ve been having sex my whole life, right?”

“Your whole life? When did you start?”

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m not some virgin who’s new to the scene. I’ve slept with enough women to know I love sex.”

“Understood. We’ve established you love sex.”

“So last weekend, I went to see my cousin in Boston, and we met these girls at a bar. Chilled with them all night. They were roommates and invited us back to their place, so we went, obviously. My cousin and one of the girls disappeared into her bedroom. I hung out with her roommate. She was gorgeous and funny and exactly my type. One thing led to another…and it was good. Don’t get me wrong, it was not bad. But…” He mumbles something under his breath.

“What?”

His cheeks are red now, and I don’t think it has to do with the skincare routine. “It took me a while to finish.”

I dig around in my arsenal and find some tact. “Oh. Okay. Well. That’s completely normal. What, did she expect you to come on command or something? Ejaculate the second she snapped her fingers?”

“No, she wasn’t complaining. This was entirely a me issue. I know it can take some men a long time, but I’ve never had that problem.” He smiles ruefully. “In fact, I probably could come on command.” He meets my gaze in the mirror. “The reason it took longer is because I couldn’t stop thinking how much hotter it would be if Beckett was there.”

I blink at our reflections. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” I say again, trailing after him as he leaves the bathroom.

“Yeah.”

“Hotter how?” I can’t help but ask.

He doesn’t answer until we’re sitting on my bed again. “I kept thinking how much more she would enjoy it if he was, you know, playing with her tits. Or kissing her while I fucked her. Or if she had his dick in her mouth…” An embarrassed Will averts his eyes. “Seriously, it just messed with my head. Distracted me. Then I lost my hard-on, and it took a while to get it back.”

He buries his newly moisturized face in his palms and groans into them.

“Aww.” I scoot closer to him. Linking our arms, I rest my head against his shoulder. “You’re right. That sounds stressful.”

“Fuckin’ understatement. I couldn’t sleep that night because my mind kept questioning what happened. And that’s when I came to the conclusion that I think I prefer sex when it’s…”

“More interactive?” I supply.

Despite his chuckle, his expression is pained. “That’s not normal, Diana. That’s like deviant shit.”

“Says who?”

“I don’t know. Society.” He groans again. “Anyway, I need to take a break from all that. I knew exactly what would happen if I went home with Beck and Lily tonight. Like, she’s a rocket.”

“Stunning,” I agree.

“And she flat-out said she was interested in both of us. If I left with them, the three of us would’ve wound up in bed together and…I don’t want to go there anymore.”

“But you just said you enjoy it.”

“It can’t become a habit.” His tone remains firm. “I want a girlfriend at some point. If I’m with someone, I can’t exactly be like, hey, can my best friend fuck you?”

“Good point. If my boyfriend said that to me, it’d be a huge turnoff.”

“See?”

“I get where you’re coming from, I really do. And while I don’t know if you need to stop the threeways entirely, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a pause. Sprinkle some one-on-one sex in between them.”

He looks relieved by my agreement. “That’s what I’m thinking. Beck’s leaving tomorrow night and he’ll be gone for a month. That’ll be a nice breather. Maybe I’ll meet someone in Boston when I’m working—” He yawns abruptly. “Fuck, I just got stupid tired all of a sudden.”

The yawn is contagious. “Me too.” I slide away from him and lift the corner of the duvet. “Stay on your side of the bed or you’ll lose sleepover privileges forever.”

“I won’t even breathe in your direction,” he promises.

I hop up to turn off the lights, then crawl into bed and make myself cozy under the duvet. Will stays true to his word, settling on the opposite side and falling asleep instantly. I lie there for a while, a part of me wishing I’d told him we could cuddle. Platonically, of course. I miss snuggling under the covers with a man. For all his faults, Percy was a solid cuddler.

Oddly enough, not only do I fall asleep thinking about Percy, but I also wake up hearing his voice.

It isn’t until the wispy cobwebs of sleep disperse that I realize I’m not dreaming it. Someone is knocking on my front door, and that is absolutely Percy’s voice saying, “Diana, are you home?”

I shoot into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes. The alarm clock tells me it’s nine o’clock. Not obscenely early by any means, but it’s Sunday morning and he’s here unannounced.

What in the actual fuck?

“Diana?” Percy again, his voice muffled from the hall.

Another knock.

I glance at Will, who’s beginning to stir.

Shit.

“What is it?” he mumbles sleepily.

I climb out of bed and comb my fingers through my sleep-mussed hair, tucking it behind my ears. “Don’t say a word,” I warn. “I need to go deal with this.”