She sure as hell doesn’t look like a Diane.

Maybe a Dirty Diana, but not a Diane.

When I saw her earlier today, I thought she was hot, gorgeous. But tonight, she’s pulling out all the stops. The shirt she is wearing doesn’t fit; it’s big, hanging off her in a carefree way that has me wanting to rip it off her with my teeth. The bra she’s wearing underneath it is almost see-through, and the little peek of skin is ridiculously hot. I hadn’t noticed the sick-ass black and gray guitar tattoo she has on her forearm or the other one that is a daisy with music notes falling from it in the same place on her other arm. They are amazing tattoos and only add to her hotness. Her jeans might as well be painted on, showing her long, thin legs, with just a small peek of ankle. It’s sad that her little glimpse of ankle has me drooling, making me want to drop to my knees to touch the skin, just to feel her.

I hadn’t realized how long her hair really is, touching her butt and making me want to wrap it around my hand to pull her to me for a kiss. God, we were so close to doing just that. I don’t know what came over me. I just had to taste her, feel her body against mine. I have no clue what it is, but man, she’s got me in some kind of trance. It’s weird. Crazy, even.

But it has to be her eyes. Those turquoise depths are complete trouble. They make me feel things I’ve never felt. They make my stomach clench, my cock perk with excitement. They are flawless. Perfect, especially with the way her dark lashes fan above them.

I could stare at her all night.

And that’s my plan.

I just wish my boys wouldn’t have pulled me away for a keg stand, though.

As I hold on to the keg, Markus puts the end of the tap in my mouth and the beer starts to flow. Everyone is hooting and hollering, but all I can do is look at her as the beer streams down my throat. This isn’t my first keg stand, and I like to think I’ve become a pro at them. Hell, with Jude as my brother, how could I not? He has the longest keg-stand record right now.

But not for long.

Holding her gaze, I watch as her face changes, her brows rising as she watches. She’s upset that I was pulled away—I can read it all over her face and body—but I plan to come back to her. No doubt about that. In the meantime, though, I’ll be amazing.

Like always.

Gripping the side of the freezing keg, I start to do inverted push-ups, just for shits and giggles. As I expect, people lose their shit as they count loudly, all eyes on me. Just like I want it. I want people to know that this Sinclair is just as good as the others. If not better. It doesn’t matter that they are in the NHL and I’m not. I was hurt, but my time is coming. And in the process, I’m going to burn a trail of awesomeness that leaves a mark on everyone at this school.

I will be remembered.

And not because I’m Jude and Jayden Sinclair’s little brother.

But because of who I am.

The best.

As the crowd counts, I can tell that I’ve impressed No Dating Diane and that makes me push on. Her lips curve as she watches, her thumbs hanging loosely in her belt loops, looking ten times better than this beer. Hell, a million times better.

Still going, though, I have twenty more seconds. I start to get a little light-headed, but I refuse to stop. I will beat Jude. My boy Richie is recording this; it’s going to be on Facebook and Jude best believe I’m going to tag him in it. Jayden’s and his reign is over—it’s time for me to take over. This is my house, my team, and damn it, I’m going to leave hellfire behind me.

“Sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty-four.”

Only seven more seconds. I can do this. Closing my eyes, I dig deep like I would on the ice. On the ice, I’m unstoppable, and that’s the way I need to be now. When I have my mind set on something, I do it, and I don’t lose. I win. Well, except for that time I had my collarbone broken because I was protecting my now sister-in-law, but that’s all small details. I’m healthy. I’m ready to win. I’m ready to show this fucking school who the best is. I was supposed to go before both my brothers, but shit just kept getting in the way.

Now, though, nothing will get in my way.

“Woo-hoo! Go, Jace!”

Opening my eyes, I see No Dating Diane holding her beer in a toast as she cheers me on, counting with everyone. I don’t know why that means so much to me, but it does. I like that she is supporting me.

Wait.

What the hell is up with her?

Why does she affect me so?

“Seventy, seventy-one, seventy-two!”

Yup, I’m done. When I nod my head, Markus pulls the tap out of my mouth and then helps right me. Closing my eyes, I swallow down the barf that wants to escape and inhale a deep breath. I’ve got this. I do.

“New house champion!” Richie yells, holding up my hand as the crowd goes nuts. “What’s you got to say, Champ?”

I look back at Richie; he’s holding the camera up, waiting for my response with a big goofy grin. Smiling, I choke down some more puke before I say, “Winner, winner, chicken dinner. In your face, Jude Sinclair!”

That sends the crowd into a frenzy, and soon everyone is patting me on the head, smacking me on the back, and fist-pumping as I make my way back to Diane. I’m woozy and my stomach hurts, but nothing is going to keep me from finding out her name. She’s watching as I come toward her, wobbling as I walk and still swallowing down the puke that is trying its hardest to get out.

As I stop in front of her, she grins up at me. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” I say before letting out a long, obnoxious burp that has my boys cheering. Swallowing hard, I blink, realizing I may be drunk. I hadn’t even drunk all day because I knew I was going to attempt that time tonight. I have been talking about it for a while, and no one paid me any mind because Jude had the record and no one could beat him. I knew I could. But shit, I have no clue how my brother got trashed and then held that for seventy-one seconds, because I feel like I’m going to puke my brains out and die. Kudos to him.

Even though I’m better.

“You okay, big guy?” she asks and I smile.

“Yeah, fine.” I wave her off, holding my chest as I burp again. “Ugh, sorry. I’m not usually this trashy.”

“No?”

I grin. “Nope, I’m a classy dude.”

“Ha, I highly doubt that,” she teases and I hold up my forefinger and thumb.