by Love Belvin
“In your apartment? Argh!” She growled playfully. “Wish I was your pupil.”
I yanked on my ear, excited at the prospect. “It’s never too late to go back to school.”
“But you’re leaving.”
“Last I checked, tutoring doesn’t require enrollment.”
“Good point, stallion.” She giggled sweetly. “No, seriously. Since when do you tutor at your place?”
My brow line tightened and lips pursed at that very relevant question as I considered it. “Since I’ve been presented with an interesting subject.”
“Subject as in academic or prospective ass?”
I grabbed my head, tossing it back dramatically. “I’ve got a girlfriend, NormaJean. You forget that?”
“Unfortunately, I haven’t. I just wish you didn’t.”
“But you were for it when I started fucking with Aivery.”
“I always have and will continue to be supportive of all you do. That’s not being for Aivery, honey.”
I rubbed my forehead, confused. “That makes no sense.”
“It does, dear heart.”
“How?”
“You only pursued Aivery because we got exposed. If it were not for that debacle, you would not have put on the face of a young man living what some perceive to be a norm for his age.”
I blinked, taken aback. “What?” Thick laughter left my lungs, belying my unease. “What perceived norms, young lady?”
“That, in order for you not to be a sex addict or deviant, you have to be in a committed relationship with a young girl your age. And that’s simply not true. There are countless men your age who fulfill their sexual fantasies and explore their sensual temperaments with several women before pursuing monogamy.”
“You don’t think I know that?”
“I wonder, Ashton. I swear, I do. But when I see you struggling in a relationship you’re not being fulfilled in, as your friend, it’s my job to remind you. Just cut Aivery off. You’re about to go into the League; that is the absolute worst environment for the flimsy house of love and commitment you and that girl have built. You can go in there, fuck whoever and however many women you want to fuck, the way you like to fuck them.”
The way you taught me to fuck…
“I fuck Aivery the way I like to fu—”
“Bullshit! That girl hasn’t lost her mind yet.” We both had to laugh at that. When she was able to calm her humor, she asked. “Who are you ordering food for?”
My eyes scanned the area. “Tori.”
“A guy?”
My head shot back, reacting to that assumption. “No.” Then again, I didn’t know what in the hell Tori was…other than intriguing. But that was it. Even if I was single, Tori McNabb wouldn’t be my type. “KaToria,” I qualified. “Her name is KaToria.”
“Oh, nice. Is she pretty?”
Tori pretty? I’d been thinking about that a lot lately. Sitting on my bike, I shrugged like a damn kid. Lucky for me, NormaJean wasn’t there to witness it. “She a’ight.”
“Does she like you?” Her voice turned dreamy.
I laughed. “Hell no!”
“This KaToria, at least, finds you attractive. Right?” NormaJean sounded more hopeful than the reality of my relationship with Tori.
“I seriously doubt it. And you know what?”
“What’s that?”
“I think that’s why I’m ordering dinner tonight and tutoring her in my apartment instead of the usual library.”
NormaJean expelled a heavy breath into the phone. “I severely doubt if she doesn’t want to find out how heavy your cock is on her tongue, but I guess you having a platonic relationship with a young girl is necessary, too.”
I nodded. “It’s sensible for me to have one with someone my age. It’s been working out well with you, my senior.”
“Speak for damn yourself, stallion.”
I laughed. “I gotta go.”
She yawned, “Okay.” NormaJean cleared her throat. “I’ll shoot you an email tomorrow night to see how it went. But I know you’re going to give them a show.”
“You better know that, sweetie.”
“Later, Ash.”
“Later.”
I slipped my cell into my pocket then pulled my helmet over my head. Trying to stay on schedule, I kicked the stand, cranked the engine, and pushed off for my apartment.
Behind me, I could hear a streak of yells, yelps, and laughter, letting me know the door opened. I was sure to put the wet floor maintenance sign in front of the door. Standing, I looked beyond the door of the stall I was in. It was my boss, Kelly. He stood in the middle of the doorway, behind him, nasty little kids zipping down the walkway. I hadn’t even been working here long and was already tired of looking at kids. When I had my own, I would never take them to an indoor trampoline park—or any indoor place for kids. It was just gross!
“McNabb, I need you to take the morning shift tomorrow.”
“Why?”
Kelly’s eyes widened like he was surprised by my question. “Because Tim called out with a stomach bug. Plus, I asked you to.”
“I’m not on the schedule for tomorrow because I can’t work.”
“Well, I need you.”
Tomorrow was homecoming, and normally I wouldn’t care about school events, but I was told I had to be there as a Panther. Beyond that, it was a big game for Ashton. I…wanted to…support him.
“I can do opening till like ten-thirty, but I gotta go after that. It’s homecoming.”
“So?” His face turned red. Kelly was heating up.
“Trisha already told me no athletes could miss homecoming.”
Kelly sighed hard. His eyes going to the ceiling, fists going to his hips, a pencil in one hand and the clipboard in the other. It looked like that call would stand.
When I pushed for needing a job after quitting the cafeteria on campus, Trisha tried staying ahead of me. She was able to get me a job here at the trampoline park which was two miles from campus. The woman was even able to work out transportation for me, having the shuttle that drove into town make a stop not en route and dropped me off three blocks from my job. It worked for me, until I learned how nasty kids could be and how neglectful their parents were.
“Fine!” His lips balled and nose seemed to lengthen. “But be here on time to open, and you had better not have a single call out or tardiness this week!”
I’d never called out or been late since getting the job. Kelly waited a few seconds for a response from me, maybe an argument. When he saw I had nothing to say, he left the bathroom. The door closed and the noise from the rowdy kids’ raucous muffled. I went back to mopping the overflowed toilet.
When the doorbell rang, I hopped from the countertop to my feet. Unaccountably nervous, I opened the door with sweaty palms, ready to curse her ass the hell out. But when I did, I saw…a wet dog. The hell?
Tori rolled her eyes. “I got caught in it.”
“You didn’t take your umbrella to work?”
She shrugged with indifference. “I don’t have one.”
I blinked, overwhelmed by the sight of the tall and completely drenched chick shivering on the “God’s Dwelling Place” doormat my grandmother purchased for me.
“You could have called,” I gritted. “I could have come and scooped you from anywhere when the rain started.”
“I wasn’t on campus when it started, and—”
“You don’t have a damn cell,” I cut her off, answering for her. Moving aside to let her in, I scolded her. “You’re too damn far away from your stomping grounds to not have a phone.”
Tori bent over to unlace her sneakers and neatly placed them on the mat before stepping in.
Paying me a cursory glance, she rolled her eyes away. “Why do you think I work?” She turned to me fingering her flat ponytail as I closed the door. Tori glanced around, bringing my attention to candles lit in the living room. “You expecting your girlfriend tonight?”
Shit�
�
My eyes closed in realization. Not only were the old school, love songs playing for my pet fish, but the candles. I didn’t know they were burning, it was habit.
“My bad. I light candles when I write.”
She sucked in a breath and her body tensed. “You were writing?” Tori was implying she disturbed me.
My chin dipped. “That’s why you’re here. For your paper?” I asked with sarcasm.
“Oh! It’s just that…”
“What? That since you forgot about me sacrificing my time to help you with your paper, that I did, too.”
“I didn’t forget, Ashton. I got stuck in a rainstorm! You hear it out there. The wind is crazy!”
I did hear it outside. It was insane, the heavy wind slapping against the windows made it clear how dangerous it was out tonight. I was worried about the girl. Powerless. Angry that I could even feel those emotions about her.
Tori turned away and ambled down the hall and into the living room, creating a trail of wet puddles on the floor. She shifted back to find me standing in the same place. “Is that garlic I smell?”
Exhaling, I sauntered toward the kitchen. “I forgot about that, too. You hungry?” I asked, pressing buttons on the stove to start the oven.
“Starving like Marvin.”
I stood straight, eyes shooting to meet hers. “You can’t sit on my furniture soaked like that.” I couldn’t lose the insolence in my tone, neither could I put my finger on why I was still angry. The girl was here. Wet, but safe—and hungry. Expelling another harsh breath, I dropped my hands on my waist and felt my eyes roll to the ceiling like a bitch. What the fuck was wrong with me? “Stay right there.”
I rounded the counter to leave the kitchen, passed by Tori’s wet frame in the living room, and promenaded toward the back of the apartment where my room was. It took less than a minute for me to collect a t-shirt, socks, and a pair of my boxer briefs.
I was back in no time with a stack of clothing in my hand. “If you want to change, you can use these, but…” My eyes roved up to the wet mop of her head. “I advise you to shower if you’re really going to feel comfortable.”
Blinking with a closed mouth, Tori appeared stunned. “You okay with me showering here and wearing your clothes?”
“I don’t think sending you back out there to do this in your dorm is safe or smart, do you?”
When my eyes traveled over to the window where the naked branches of a tree could be seen dancing wildly as the rain poured down, from my periphery, I saw Tori’s head turn to follow my line of vision.
“And do what with my uniform? I gotta open in the morning.”
I shook my head. “Just…” I pinched my nose. “Throw everything out in the hall when you take them off.” I pointed to the stacked washer and dryer door farther down the hallway. Tori hesitated with downcast eyes and a hanging jaw. That gave me pause. “Wait.” I switched weight on my legs. “This ain’t gone be one of those miscommunication experiences when you report me for sexual harassment tomorrow, saying this was the moment you felt uncomfortable, but couldn’t express that and the night went on with more points of pressured decisions to where you feel sexually harassed, is it?”
In a flash, Tori grimaced then snatched the clothes from me so hard, she dropped the socks. “Ashton Spencer, I may not be big or strong enough to beat your ass, but I will knock you the fuck out if you ever try me,” she threatened through gritted teeth and took off for the back of the apartment. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Yanking my ear, I answered, “First door on the right.
“They’re still in the wash?” I turned around to find Tori standing over the peninsula on the living room side of the counter.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I got. Wrapped around her head was a towel, and the BSU t-shirt I loaned her was big as hell, being held by her small shoulders and covering her incredulously crudely exposed breasts underneath. Their contour was elicit, sheer beneath the cotton, making the experience of her natural femininity alarming, fucking luscious and surreal. Tori McNabb was KaToria, a woman.
This was fucked up.
Dangerous.
Tori’s brows met. “Why are you looking at me like I slapped your great-granny?”
“Because your big ass tits are high-beaming me.” My face dropped, eyes closed, and shoulders curled. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“Shit…” I heard her whisper. “My bad. I don’t have a…”
I pointed to the heater unit near the kitchen table. “They won’t be dry for a minute.”
When I glanced up, Tori was attempting to hide her breasts as she stalked into the kitchen to where the unit was, built into the wall. Her bra and panties were stretched out on the vent. Her ass. My eyes closed to a squeeze.
Oh, my fuckin’ go—
“You…” My head whipped up just as hers did the same toward the hall where the washer was still going. “You…”
“Don’t say it.” I grumbled. “The answer is yes. That underwear is expensive as hell. I hope you don’t throw them in the washing machine.”
“Do your girlfriend hand wash hers?”
That question was alarming, forcing me to face her again. “I don’t know what she does.”
“So, you don’t hand wash them for her?”
I snorted. “No. I don’t wash her clothes, McNabb.” I washed Tori’s by hand because… Well, because she was Tori. That was until she came out of the bathroom, half dressed, revealing her true sex. It was official, she was no longer gender-neutral to me. “What type of dude do you think I am?”
“A panty buyer and washer.” Tori spit a laugh, exposing all her teeth and shallow dimples I didn’t recall seeing before. Her teeth were…pretty. Lips full and shapely. Abruptly, her humor ended. Tori’s lashes blinked successively. “If this is going to be weird for you, give me a jacket.” She attempted to cover her breasts again.
I had to get my shit together. I was being weird. Clearing my throat, I asserted, “Nah. It’s not weird, but it is awkward. Aivery’s got some things here. I would go check for a bra of sorts, but I know off the run, you’re not the same size.”
“And I wouldn’t wear a stitch of her clothes anyway,” she hissed. “The girl would probably kill me if she knew I were here; I could only imagine what she’d do if I wore her clothes.”
“Yup.” My voice hiked as I sucked in a breath, agreeing with her. “Anyway.” I pointed to the blow dryer on the coffee table in the living room. “That’s for you to dry your hair when you’re ready—”
She sniffled. “That pizza?”
Shit!
I leaped around in the air, taking long lunges to the stove. Thankfully, the pizza wasn’t burning or quite on its way. I’d just put it in when Tori came out with teardrop-shaped boobs. I grabbed a mitt to pull it out. “I was getting to that. Was gonna say you should probably eat first.”
Tori peered over the counter and saw the pizza. “Margherita! My favorite!” Her lips pushed into the air as her eyes fell. “Well, since Verti.”
I froze, reaching for the plates. “That’s the first time you had Margherita pizza?”
Tori’s expression turned downcast again. For the first time, I hated it. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
I plated the hot slices. “Wear negative emotions on your face and reserve the positive.”
“What’re you talking about?”
About how I didn’t know you had dimples—no matter how shallow they are—until now. “You frown and scowl a lot, and immediately when something’s upsetting or bothering you. But you don’t smile or laugh much.”
“I do,” she grumbled following me to the table.
I placed the dishes on the table. “When? I never see you.” When I peered up at her, Tori’s tits catcalled me. I snapped my fingers then pointed to her. “Jacket. Right. Let me get napkins and drinks, and I’ll take care of that.”
“Please do
n’t do that to me.” The brittleness in her request sounded painful.
I turned to her. “Do what?” My face was tight, I felt defensive.
I did and said anything and everything to spite her.
“Don’t make me feel like a dog. Don’t make gestures that make me feel something other than what you, your mean girlfriend, and your snobbish West Beverly High friends are.” West Beverly High? “I mean, I get it. I’m not like you guys, but I don’t start trouble or even retaliate when you pick on me. I know you and I aren’t friends, but we are Panthers. Don’t make me feel less than that.” Tori took a deep breath, nostrils expanding. “I get it. I’m not light skinned, girlie, soft-spoken, or sexy. But because you’ve got a girlfriend, I thought you wouldn’t care about me being those things. I’m not like other girls, so that’s not what I’m asking. What I’m asking is try to keep your disgust for me to yourself. I can’t take much more of it.”
My head shook on its own volition. “You think that’s what I think about you?” My throat was so tight, my voice cracked. “You’re fuckin’ crazy, girl.” Tori switched weight on her hips, crossing her arms over her chest, expelling a tired breath. “A month ago, you’re right: you were ‘the dog,’ but I told you I dropped it. Hell, I dropped stacks on you to trick my friends and my girl. You think I do that for ‘dogs?’” I shook my head. “I’m not an animal lover, sweetheart. You think I feed strays? Tutor and workout with them?”
“You had to,” she tried to argue. “Trisha…A.D. Jones—”
“Girl,” I interrupted her false assessments. “I’m not only the quarterback of the Panthers, a senior in my last semester here, but I’m also Blakewood’s premier athlete. My sport and skill brings bank to this institution. You think they’re cool with me using my limited time tutoring? Do you know who A.D. Jones prefers for me to do my workout with? The kid they’re grooming to be my successor.”
“Yeah, but let’s not act like you’re thrilled to spend time with me.” Tori rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you would rather do it with your girlfrie—”
“Yes, at the start of the semester, I didn’t want to be within two-miles of you. That’s true, but we’ve spent lots of time together, Tori. You’re cool—or were cool before—”
