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“Perfectly fine. You?”

“Never better.” He cracks his neck. “I’m sharper, actually. More focused. Sacked our starting QB twice at practice this morning. Coach said he hasn’t seen me move like that all season.” He looks way too pleased with himself. “All that energy’s gotta go somewhere. So yeah. Thanks for the bet.”

“Glad I could help,” I mutter.

“Yeah.” He studies me. “You look tense, though.”

“Busy week.”

“Mm-hm.” He settles into the couch, one arm draped over the back, his leg bouncing. “Ran into Brooke in the hallway when I got back. She asked about you.”

“Yeah? What’d she want?”

“What do you think she wanted? She was in those shorts again, asking where you’ve been.” He grins. “She wants your dick, dude.”

I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s trying to get in my head. “Noted.”

“Noted?” He laughs. “Brooke. Hottest girl in the building. Pussy dripping every time she sees you, probably in her room right now fingering herself, wishing you were balls deep inside her. And your response is noted?”

“What am I supposed to do, Bran? Fuck her brains out and hand you the win?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t stop you.” He leans forward. “But you think she’s gonna wait till December? A girl like Brooke’s got options. You think she’s not getting dicked down by someone else while you’re sitting here playing monk?”

“Go ahead then. Go knock on her door and handle it for both of us.” I drop onto the other end of the couch and kick my feet up on the coffee table. “I’ll have the outfit laid out on your bed when you get back. Might even iron it for you.”

That shuts him up. He leans back, jaw working.

Good. He thinks he can get in my head? Two can play that game.

“You know what’s funny, Bran? You’re sitting there telling me about Brooke’s dripping pussy like you’re doing me a favor, but look at you.” I nod at his sweats. “You got yourself hard just talking about it. You’re sweating. Your leg won’t stop bouncing. And you want me to believe you’ve got this under control?”

“I do.”

“Yeah? So you wouldn’t want a mouth on you right now?” I lean a little closer. “Some warm, wet throat wrapped around your cock, doing all the work while you just lie there? Sliding up and down, nice and slow, until you’re dumping everything you’ve got down their throat?”

“Enough.”

“Because after a week? Those balls must be aching, bro. Full to bursting. All that cum backed up with nowhere to go, building and building, getting thicker and heavier every day. I bet if someone put their lips around you right now, you’d blow so hard you’d fill their mouth in one shot. Just pump and pump and⁠—”

“Dylan.” His face is tight, eyes locked on mine. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Proving a point.” I lean back. “You said you were focused. Clear-headed. This shouldn’t bother you at all. I’m just talking.”

Brandon’s chest is rising fast. His leg is going like a jackhammer and his hand has drifted to his thigh, fingers digging into the muscle. And in those gray sweats, there’s no hiding what’s going on. He’s fully hard now, the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric, a dark wet spot forming at the tip.

“Your focus could use some work.” I nod at his crotch. “You’re leaking, Bran.”

Not that I’m any better off. My own cock is throbbing in my jeans, pressing hard against the denim, and I can feel a wet patch spreading in my boxers. But Brandon’s too far gone to notice. His eyes are glazed, his breathing is ragged, and he’s one deep breath away from grabbing himself right in front of me.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t think he’d make it this far. The guy’s a dog, always sniffing around for tail. But he’s more stubborn than I gave him credit for. He’s on the ropes, though. And I’d be stupid not to push.

“You’re dying right now, aren’t you?” I nudge his knee with mine. “Look at you. You’re vibrating.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

“Speaking of dicks, yours is about to rip through those sweats. You need some alone time? I can step out, give you five minutes.”

“Fuck you.”