On the Sideline (B.S.U. #3)

By JB Salsbury

Waking up in Bex’s bed is a nightmare I’ll never forget.

Now she seems to pop up everywhere I turn. And the more I get to know her, the more I like her. How had I never noticed her before? She shoves off every attempt I make to get close, and I don’t blame her. After all, I am kind of dating her cousin.

Jocks suck.

Does Loren really expect me to believe he wants to be my friend? If he thinks he can use me to get closer to my cousin, he’s a fool. She’d step over my dead body to get to better selfie lighting.

He doesn’t let up, and his attention confuses me. Because guys like Loren aren’t attracted to girls like me. I’m already an outcast. Giving Loren a chance would mean social suicide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JB Salsbury
• Release date: Mar 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215345153

JB Salsbury

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, J.B. Salsbury, lives in Arizona with her husband and two kids. She spends the majority of her day as a domestic engineer. But while she works through her daily chores, a world of battling alphas, budding romance, and impossible obstacles claws away at her subconscious, begging to be released to the page.Her love of good storytelling led her to earn a degree in Media Communications. With her journalistic background, writing has always been at the forefront, and her love of romance prompted her to sink her free time into novel writing.For more information on the series or just to say hello, visit J.B. on her website, Facebook, or Goodreads page.http://www.jbsalsbury.com/https://www.facebook.com/JBSalsburybookshttp://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6888697.Jamie_Salsbury

Book preview

Chapter One

Bex

Matter is defined by anything that has mass and takes up space. Mass is the amount of matter in an object. Volume is the amount of space something occupies.

According to science, I exist. And yet, I’m completely invisible.

A sorority party might seem like a strange place to contemplate my existence, but with every party the Eta Pi house hosts I find I blend into the walls.

Is it possible to have matter and not actually matter?

Oh God, enough with the pity party. I sip my Seagrams Jamaican Me Happy wine cooler and wonder if it’ll start Jamaican me happy. I check my watch and groan. It’s only ten o’clock and Eta Pi party rules insist all sisters remain social until midnight. I stare longingly at the ornate staircase that leads to the second floor and my room, wondering if anyone would even notice if I snuck away.

I consider it, look around the crowded living room, and deflate when I see my cousin Riley, Eta Pi President, smile shitilly at me. I roll my eyes and slump back against the couch. I hadn’t noticed how close I had scooted to the edge in anticipation of making a break for it.

Who am I kidding, I mumble to myself. I’m stuck here.

I search for something to do, something more engaging than staring at my knees while wishing for time to pass. My sorority sister Meegan is holding court near the dining room, her big personality and fake smile attracts people in droves. I rub my nose, push up my glasses and wonder if that’s my problem—I don’t smile enough. I turn to a huddle of three frat guys next to me and smile as big as Meegan. One laughs, the other shrinks away, and the last smiles back awkwardly the way one would to a child who just peed her pants. I drop the act and turn back to my knees, pick at the label on my bottle, tug at the collar of my Eta Pi sweatshirt, pull off my glasses to rub my eyes, and crack my neck. I check my watch again. Only fifteen minutes later than the last time I checked. I drop my head back to rest on the couch. Why am I here?

No, not why am I at this party. In order to stay in Eta Pi I’m required to attend all social events.

Not even why am I in Eta Pi, that’s easy. My family insists. There is no option but to pledge my grandmother’s, mother’s, aunts, and now cousin’s sorority. It’s a prerequisite for being a Thunderbird.

What I mean is why am I on this earth? Is my sole purpose to take up space? Because that’s all I’ve been doing since I arrived at Bear State University a year and a half ago.

In that time I’ve made only two friends. This is not the college experience that was promised to me. I was told in college people would like me for me, that I no longer had to worry about not looking like every other midriff baring, wedge sandal wearing, bleached blonde beauty in Southern California. Don’t worry, Bexley, in college you’ll find your people.

But tonight is no different than the hundreds of other nights before this. I remain nothing more than a piece of furniture.

At least I have my snakes. They seem to be the only creatures that understand me. Gee, Bex, it’s no wonder you’re alone.

No shit.

Loren

The very beautiful Riley Thunderbird is splitting in two and coming in and out of focus. Her dark brown eyes split into four and morph back to a hazy two. The whole funhouse effect is making my stomach uneasy. I groan and rub my eyes, unsteady on my feet, I reopen my lids to keep upright. I’m an idiot.

I told myself not to get wasted tonight. Our last football game of the season was yesterday and me and my teammates have been hammered ever since. I made a vow before the game that I would not participate in the weekend-long binge drinking for one reason. Riley Thunderbird.

She’s the president of the Eta Pi sorority and the hottest woman in the room. She’s like if Selena Gomez and Kylie Jenner had a love child—dark hair like silk, deep pools of molten chocolate eyes, and dark pink pillows for lips. We’ve been kind of seeing each other casually for weeks now, I was hoping tonight would be the night we’d take things a little further. That’s all shot to shit now that I can hardly stay upright without the assistance of the wall at my back. And is it just me or does that damn wall keep shifting.

Even as drunk as I am, there’s a sense of urgency that tells me to get home before I embarrass myself. None of my roommates are anywhere nearby, or maybe I’m just too drunk to pick them out of all the blurry faces. I hang my arm over Riley and whisper in her ear, Hey.

Oh God, she says, struggling under my weight. You’re a mess.

I know, I’m sorry. I try to shift a little off of her, but end up throwing myself in the opposite direction and stumbling. I need to go home.

Her pretty lips turn into a pout and I want to bite them so I make a chomping motion with my teeth and smirk.

Wow, yeah you do.

I just need to call… It takes me too long to fish my phone from my jeans pocket, and I flip it over, backwards and upside down waiting for the screen to light up. What the hell…

She takes it from me, looks at it, then hands it back with amusement in her eyes. It's dead.

"Shiiiiiiiit." I drop my head back and immediately regret it when I have to throw my arms out to regain my equilibrium.

Just go crash in my room for a couple hours. I’ll see if I can find any of your roommates. She grabs me by the shoulders and guides me toward the stairs. I’ll send them up to get you as soon as I find one.

Sleep, yes. That’s all I need. A catnap to sober up. I take the bannister with two hands and pull myself up the stairs to the long hallway lined with doors on both sides. I remember which door is Riley’s, we’ve spent a few nights on her bed kissing until my lips would go numb.

I push into the dark room and feel around the wall for a light switch. Finding nothing, I say fuck it, pull my shirt off, toe-off my shoes, and strip out of my jeans. The edge of her mattress is easy to find and I drop face first onto the sweet smelling bedding before slipping away into oblivion.

Later on, without a clue to how much time has passed, I wake to the feeling of a soft touch on my thigh. I must not have been asleep for that long because I don’t question where I am or how I got here. I’m in Riley’s room and she must’ve come up from the party, seen me nearly naked on her bed, and couldn’t resist the opportunity to get her hands on me. Her touch has me smiling into the dark even though my eyes are still closed. My head is a little clearer, but I’m absolutely still very much drunk. We won’t go all the way when I’m not in full control of my faculties, but I don’t see anything wrong with letting her cop a feel. It feels so good as her delicate, exploring fingers slide up my inner thigh. Mmm, that feels nice.

Her hand freezes at the sound of my voice.

I blink open my eyes and find the room isn’t as dark as it once was. In the corner of the small room there’s a light—no, a glass box of some kind that is lit up. An aquarium? Terrarium. I don’t remember Riley having any pets.

I attempt to sit up.

Don’t. Move.

The authoritative voice that is laced with warning freezes me in place.

Be very, very still, the voice says, a little calmer now but still carrying a heavy sense of danger. He won’t hurt you if you don’t scare him.

I look toward the voice, but she’s hiding in the shadows. Him? I feel the lukewarm shape on my thigh and realize my mistake. It’s not a woman’s hand. What is it?

Shhh, don’t even talk. I think… She swallows thickly. You’ll be okay. He’s hunting.

What for?

Food.

A wheeking sound of terror escapes my lips.

Don’t do that, she hisses. You sound like a wounded mouse. Now listen to me very carefully.

I nod ever so slightly holding each and every muscle in my body perfectly still.

He hasn’t been fed in ten days. He’s very hungry and probably willing to sink his fangs into anything with a pulse.

I feel whatever it is moving again, sliding further up my thigh to the space between my hip and dick. My brain makes a quick assessment—terrarium, no legs, no fur…oh God. S-s-snake, I squeak.

What did I tell you about making those noises, she whisper-yells. Listen to me. Snakes have bad eyesight; they hunt by scenting the air with their tongues. You do not want to give off the scent of panic and a racing pulse or he might confuse you for a dying animal. Keep your heart rate steady.

I blow out what is meant to be a calming breath, but sounds more like an audible shiver.

Focus on my voice…

I nod and close my eyes, my hands fist the bedding at my sides, and the thing starts to move again. "Get it off me," I whisper.

I can’t. If I try to grab him, he might lash out fangs first. You’re totally safe…I think. I mean, snakes don’t eat humans. Oh wow, he’s headed toward your…um…

I lock my throat closed to keep down a high-pitched shriek of fear.

It’ll be alright. They eat baby rats so as long as you don’t have anything that resembles a nest of warm, baby, hairless rats in your underwear, you should technically be okay.

I manscaped in anticipation for my night with Riley—my eyes pop wide open.

They’re ambush predators so if he was going to attack, he’d clamp down hard with his fangs and then—

Please stop, I whisper as quietly as I can. My dick is about to die and get eaten by a fucking snake. I may never use him again. Why didn’t I appreciate the last good time we had together? All the good times we’ve had together? A tear escapes my eye and rolls down my temple.

A flick of a switch and the room is revealed under fluorescent light…not Riley’s room. And that’s not Riley glaring down at me through thick, smudged up glasses. You mind telling me what you’re doing in my bed, jock? There’s no more kindness or caution in her voice, no panic or concern. Just straight up annoyance.

I try my best to look down my body without any sudden movements, and see the massive bump of snake coiled right next to my dick and balls…well, to be fair, my ball sac. It’s inhabitants retreated into my stomach minutes ago.

Her eyes narrow. I know you.

What? I mouth, mostly silently, nothing more than a puff of shallow air.

You’re Rowan and Emery’s roommate, you play football.

Yes, yeah, that’s me…. Please save me, I implore with my eyes. I’m sorry, okay?

She pulls a chair from across the room, the scrape of it’s metal legs against the tile sends my pulse through the top of my head. She flips the chair around, and straddles the back like a man. You’re sorry for what? Trespassing? Getting naked in my room? Her big eyes squint into slivers behind her thick glasses. Are you some kind of sick pervert? She eyes the bed and frowns. You didn’t rub one off in my bed, did you? Because I swear to God, if you did—

"No. No. No. I am trying my best to stay calm but there’s still a hungry fucking snake with fangs cuddling my cock. I thought it was Riley’s room."

What? she says way too fucking loudly, making the animal twitch and my stomach cave in on itself.

Shhh, please. The thing slithers along my groin. Oh God, it’s moving.

You thought you were in Riley’s room? The three snake habitats didn’t give that away? She tilts her head, her massive crown of messy curls looking a lot like that rats nest she mentioned earlier. Are you blind?

My chest bounces with short, quick breaths. Drunk.

You’re drunk.

Was. The one word sounds like the air release from a balloon valve.

She seems to think that over for a bit. Take your fucking time, sweetheart. Her gaze drops to my chest, my abdomen, and then my boxer shorts where she sighs heavily. Alright, I believe you. She slips her hands into my boxers and I gasp and nearly pass out as I anticipate the sharp sting of fangs in my softest of soft spots. He’s innocent, Monty. The serpent she pulls from my underwear is white and yellow and looks as long as my arm. I nearly black out, but adrenaline has me in flight mode, and I scramble to sit up. I cup my junk protectively while watching as the thing coils around her forearm, and she kisses the slimy beasts head.

Stomach bile surges in my throat bathing the back of my tongue in day-old whiskey, but I’m helpless to look away from the horror movie going on in front of me.

Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy, that’s right, she says in baby talk. You’re the goodest boy. She kisses