Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

“I’m just saying my plate is full at the moment. No trouble, Clay,” she
warns. “Can I ask that of you? Please?”
Yesssssss. Even though it’s usually the Saints who cause the trouble over
there, but okay. “No trouble,” I tell her.
“All right, have a good day,” she says, kissing me again and leaving the
room.
I blow out a breath, thankful she doesn’t press that more. Which is kind
of weird. I thought for sure she’d be like ‘I don’t want you hanging around
her and absorbing her gayness,’ but she was actually cool about it.
Minutes later, Liv and I are out the door, carrying our bags and her
wearing my clothes and shoes as I toss her the keys.
She gets in the driver’s side, and for the first time ever, I’m a passenger in
my own car. Callum can’t drive my car. Liv can.
“Are you okay?” she asks as we near school.
The streets are still quiet, classes not starting for over an hour, and I
check my neck in the mirror, dabbing on some foundation to cover the
hickeys. She went to town on me again after we got into bed last night, and I
pull up my bra a little more, hiding the little one on my breast.
“Just park over here,” I reply, instead, gesturing to the curb.
I run my hand down her thigh, smooth in my leggings, giving myself one
last moment of contact before I have to be close to her and not able to touch
her for the next hour.
“And yeah, I’m okay,” I say.
My parents are splitting up. I don’t want to go to Wake Forest. I’m
infatuated with someone that everyone else will make their business if it ever
gets out.
But I’m okay, because I have her.
We head into the locker room, already empty, and drop off our bags
before jogging into the gym.
Weights clank, machines run, and giggles fill the air as our teammates
chat, Coomer giving us the eye as we run in.
I almost turn to check with Liv before I leave her, but I stop myself. We
arrived together. People already noticed that.
I walk away without a word, jumping on the treadmill next to Krisjen,
Amy on her other side.
“Hey,” Amy chirps.
“Morning,” I say, realizing I forgot water bottles. “You, uh, made the