Page 16 of Risky Play

He rubbed his temple. “Mads, I’m not blaming you. That guy sucks, and if I ever see him again⁠—”

“I can handle my battles myself!” I snapped. “I was the one who transferred here to solve my problem. It had nothing to do with you.”

He was pissing me off. I loved my brother, I really did, but his overprotectiveness had got to go. Yes, I trusted the wrong person, but Noah didn’t have to keep rubbing it in my face.

I got out of his car in a huff.

“Maddie!” he called after me.

I spun around. “What?”

“I love you, okay? D and I are here for you—that’s all I’m trying to say.”

Of course they did, and I knew that, but I wanted to make my own choices. Not mooch off my older brother.

“Can you let me fight my own battles?”

“Okay, “ he relented. “Okay.”

I waved goodbye to him and tried not to be agitated. Noah wanted the best for me, but it was annoying. I complained to Mom last night on the phone, but she said it was because I was his only sister, and he hated seeing me hurt. Noah cared, but in a very irritating big brother way that made me want to drop the gloves on him.

I rode the elevator up to my seventh-floor dorm room and thought of everything I needed to do for the coming week. I worked ahead and already had a draft of a paper that was due in two weeks, so I was in good shape.

When I moved to Philly, it surprised me to find I had a private bedroom but shared a bathroom with another student in a suite-style room. I had been expecting to share a room with another student. I had chatted with my suitemate Ari a little already. She was a third year, too, but she wasn’t a transfer like me.

She was shy but stood out in a crowd with her brightly colored hair in a mix of blue, purple, and pink. Even though we had separate rooms, we got along great, and she was one of the first friends I made at Franklin. We had bonded over our love of smutty romance books. I was still trying to find my place on the hockey team, and when I wasn’t doing that, I was burying myself in my studies, so it was nice to have one person to hang with. Even if it was just to get dinner.

When I walked into our suite, I saw Ari’s bedroom door open, but alarm ran through me at the sound of her sniffling. “Hey, you okay?”

She shook her head.

I walked into her bedroom and saw her eyes rimmed with tears. “What happened?”

“I told Jack I was bisexual, and he broke up with me.”

“What?” I snarled.

Ari confessed she was bisexual a couple of weeks ago. Her parents were a little confused at first but said they’d love her no matter what. She had been working up the courage to tell her boyfriend. To be honest, I met him once, and he seemed like a douche.

“Why did he break up with you?” I asked.

“He said he didn’t want to be with someone who was more likely to cheat,” she blubbered.

“What an asshole! That’s not how bisexuality works.”

Being a female athlete, I’ve had many teammates who were gay or bi or even pan over the years. Her ex being biphobic pissed me off. I always believed you should love who you love and not care what people think.

“I know,” she agreed.

“I’m sorry, Ari.”

“I really loved him.”

“You wanna grab a drink and complain about the shitty men in our lives?” I offered.

She wiped her eyes. “Maybe. What shitty ones are in yours?”

I groaned. “Remember I told you about the guy I hooked up with at my brother’s wedding?”