by Danica Avet
Nessie still doesn’t look at me, but her gaze is fixed over my shoulder, the blush on her face deepening as her mouth opens.
I freeze. I swear I feel the air around us crackle with energy. The hairs on my arms stand on end and I swallow hard. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” I whisper, which is stupid because if he’s behind me, he heard everything I said.
My friend nods, her eyes wide enough she looks like a Japanese animated character.
“Blondie, if that wasn’t true, I’d be hurt,” a silken voice says and I really do come close to peeing myself. “Hey Red, miss me already?”
I move slowly, which is what you’re supposed to do when faced with a wild animal, shuffling around so the wall is at my back and I’m able to see him. Ivan the Terrible. Standing not two feet away, his hair sticking up all over the place, his lips red and swollen, hickeys all over his neck. But he isn’t paying any attention to me even though I was just gossiping about him.
No, he’s staring at Nessie, who straightens her spine, that spark of insanity I’ve come to recognize so well kindling to life in her eyes. “I miss you like a toothache,” she snaps back.
Those crazy dark eyes of his scan her, lingering on certain areas, and the air seems to thin. “I can think of lots of other things to do with your mouth than give you toothaches,” he murmurs.
She goes to say something, no doubt another sharp retort, but a girl with equally messed up hair and red lips, saunters by and trails her fingers over Ivan’s shoulders. “Thanks, Ivan,” she says with a smirk.
He doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at her, just keeps his gaze on Nessie, whose face goes through every shade of red before it settles on burgundy. “You’re disgusting,” she spits out, eyes narrowed to slits.
Ivan isn’t bothered by her words. If anything, he looks pleased, his cruel lips quirking. “Don’t be jealous because you’re still too small to get on the adult rides, Red.” His gaze goes to me, sweeping over me. “You’re just the right height, Blondie. Wanna—”
His words cut off as a girl laughs long and loud, sounding drunk as hell. We all turn to see her stumbling toward us on the arm of a guy who gives me the creeps. Ivan scares me with his bad boy vibe that says he does what he wants and doesn’t care what people think of him. This guy is something else, the slimy smile on his face as he half-carries the girl toward the bedrooms making me think of every true life crime show I’ve ever seen.
The girl’s beautiful, her dark hair thick and lustrous, her body all lithe dips and curves, the short dress she’s wearing leaving very little to the imagination. Her eyes are dark as night, but there’s a weird look to them that makes me very uneasy. A wildness that is just a hair away from being feral, as though she’s just waiting for the perfect moment to attack.
Ivan turns to face her, his smirk replaced by a scowl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he demands, seeming to swell in size as he blocks the path to the bedrooms.
“None of your fucking business,” the girl snarls back.
“Back off man, she’s taken. Aren’t you, baby?” The slimeball tucks her closer to his side, but not protectively. It’s possessive. Smarmy. “Find your own bitch, Ivan.”
The bad boy starts breathing heavily as though he’s using every ounce of willpower not to murder someone. “Get your fucking hands off of her.”
Slimeball doesn’t seem to care. “She likes them on her… In fact, they’re gonna be in a lot of other places soon enough.”
“Natasha,” Ivan says in a voice that sounds like it belongs in the bowels of hell. “Get the fuck out of here.”
The girl, Natasha, actually spits at Ivan. “Fuck. You.”
Everything happens fast and I barely have time to grab Nessie and drag her back against the wall with me as Ivan goes into action. If it wasn’t so dramatic and crazy, I would’ve been impressed by his speed, but I’m terrified to have a front row seat.
Ivan punches Slimeball in the throat. No warning, no nothing, just reaches out with that tattooed hand and lands a blow straight to the guy’s larynx. Slimeball lets go of the girl, grabbing for his throat as he starts to choke, but Ivan’s already in motion. Natasha goes up and over his right shoulder, kicking and screaming and using words I never even knew existed.
She catches us watching her and her ire turns our way. “What the fuck are you bitches lookin’ at?”
“I think you need to leave.”
The words are low and commanding, the voice belonging to none other than Anders, who’s worked his way to us. A couple of other players are behind him, helping Slimeball to his feet. The noise of the party has dissipated, the music still playing, but it’s been turned down so everyone can hear what’s happening.
Ivan smirks, but I can tell it’s a half-hearted effort. “Yeah man, we’re out of here. I got what I came for,” he drawls, the girl still draped over his shoulder like an accessory. He glances over at Nessie and something flashes in his eyes before he gives her a chin lift. “See ya later, Red.”
People move out of the way as Ivan starts for the door, Natasha spitting and cursing, squirming on his shoulder. No one stops them, no one seems to be breathing as the cloud of electricity surrounding Ivan forges a path for the exit. The minute the door closes behind them, it’s as though the bubble of unease pops, releasing everyone. The chatter picks up, but this time the incident is on everyone’s lips.
“Are you okay, babe?” Anders asks, coming to stand in front of me, his big hand cupping my chin. He looks worried. But he shouldn’t be. I’m not the one who’s in the Devil’s sights. “Lena?”
Still, his concern is touching and I’m able to give him a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
He pulls me into his arms, my head coming to rest right under his chin. I don’t know what to say. The look on Nessie’s face makes my heart hurt for her. There’s sadness, resignation, and anger, which she quickly hides as she notices me looking at her. I don’t know what’s going on with her and Ivan, if anything, but it leaves my stomach tied in knots.
“Are you okay?” I mouth to her from the safety of Anders’ embrace.
Her smile is just as weak as mine and even though she nods I know she isn’t.
Anders
The party winds down shortly after Terrible’s exit with some pissed off girl on his shoulder. Savage isn’t ready for it to end, but he’s so drunk, he’s easily shuffled off to bed—with a locked door in case any of the cleat chasers decide to sneak in—and after coaxing a few of my fellow players to help clear the place out, partygoers start heading for the door.
Lena’s talking with Jolene and Becca, but Nessie’s nowhere in sight. Not sure what’s going on between her and Ivan. I just know it’s not good and I don’t want Lena involved. I make a mental note to talk with my girl about it, see if she can get through to Nessie just how bad Ivan is.
Turning away from her, I start looking through Savage’s place to make sure there aren’t any stragglers. My boy wasn’t the happy, fun guy he wanted everyone to think. The few minutes it took me to dump him in his bed had been filled with him mumbling about his family and if he weren’t so drunk I’d have asked him to expound a little more. This binge drinking isn’t good for him. Not just because he’s an athlete, but because if he isn’t careful, it’ll kill him.
Everything looks fine in the house, which is fucking huge for one guy to live in, but just as I start for the bathroom, the door opens. The girl sauntering out is an obvious cleat chaser. She’s attractive enough, if you don’t mind your girl with zero modesty, no inhibitions, and well-used, which doesn’t appeal to me at all. I don’t know what her name is, but I do know she wasn’t invited to spend the night.
If anything, Savage had practically begged me to kick everyone out.
“Don’t wanna see no one,” he mumbles as I toss him on his bed. “Make ’em all go away.”
“What about your harem?”
He opens one drink-glazed eye to glare at me. “All of ’em.” He closes his eye
again and lets out a sigh that sounds like it started at his toes. “Just want to be alone. No expectations. No disappointments. Nothing. Make ’em all go. Please.”
“Party’s over,” I tell the girl, hiking my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the door. “If you need me to call a cab, have a seat in the living room.”
I go to pass her, but she steps in front of me, posing or some shit. All I know is that her tits are against my stomach and she’s got her head tossed back. “Hi, Root,” she says in a voice that makes me wonder if she’s having an asthma attack. “I’m a big fan.”
“That’s nice, door’s that way.”
I sidestep her tits, which are a lot bigger than they need to be, and start for the back once more, but she puts her hand on my arm. “I’d love to spend some time with you.”
Impatient, because every second she keeps me in the hall is another second I lose with Lena back at her place, I shake her off with a frown. “No thanks. Now, the party’s over so you need to get the fuck out.”
She doesn’t take the hint, stepping closer, the light from the bathroom shines on her face and I see she isn’t a girl, but an older woman. It isn’t anything obvious. She’s an attractive woman who obviously takes good care of herself, but she still has fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, small things that I normally wouldn’t notice. You know, if I just saw her on the street. But with her all up in my shit, it’s kind of hard to ignore.
“Are you sure you want me to leave?” she asks in that breathy voice, her free hand sliding down her cleavage. “We could have a lot of fun together.”
I run my hand through my hair, trying to keep my cool. It’s been a stressful fucking night already. I didn’t need this on top of it. Not when all I want to do is go back to Lena’s apartment and curl around my girl.
“Look lady, I’m trying to be nice here, but you’re trying my patience.” I’m proud my voice is so even, but it’s like she doesn’t even hear me, her hands coming to rest on my chest. I grip her wrists in a firm, yet careful hold, moving them off of my body. “I have a girl.”
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” the woman says with a tinkling laugh.
“Anders, are you ready to— Oh.”
I look up, feeling like a deer caught in headlights, to see Lena standing at the end of the hall. It’s like everything that could go wrong tonight, is. First with fucking Ivan the Terrible, then with Savage, and now this woman who won’t take no for an answer. I don’t know what we look like, me and this woman, but it can’t be good and, without thinking, I give her a gentle push in the direction of the living room.
The woman, who I’m starting to think is probably related to Ivan the Terrible because of her fucking gall, saunters toward Lena, hips swaying as though she has a wedgie from hell. She pauses next to my girl, looking up at her with a disdainful expression before turning back to me.
“Maybe next time, Root,” she tells me with a smile that creeps me out.
The woman bypasses Lena with a swish, leaving an awkward silence behind. I stand frozen in place, unsure if I should start explaining now, or wait for her to bring it up. Lena’s expression doesn’t give me much indication which is the best route, meaning we just stand there staring at each other.
After a few minutes, she seems to shake it off and asks, “Are you ready to go?”
Like a dumb beast, I just nod. Her smile is fake as the MILF’s breasts and she slips out of the hall, back to the living room. Swiping my hand over my face, I let out a groan. Why me?
I finish my walkthrough of the house and meet Lena back at the front door. She’s sitting quietly, a small frown furrowing her forehead, but she stands as I approach. It’s so quiet now everyone’s gone, most of the house dark, that it feels like we’re the last two people left in the world. It should’ve felt intimate. Instead, it’s as though there’s a wide gulf between us, even though we’re only a few feet apart.
And I hate it.
“Jolene and Becca just left with Nessie,” she says quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is Beau okay?”
A snore, loud enough to be heard through the closed doors and across several feet, answers her question. She giggles, shoulders shaking and her gaze meeting mine, but it comes to an end far too quickly.
“He’ll be fine,” I mutter. “Ready?”
Her nod is short and her body stiff when I place my hand on her back, leading her out the door. I pause to lock up and, turning around again, I see she’s already standing next to my Bronco. Fuck. She’s totally pissed and I can’t blame her. It had to look bad, that woman practically fawning over me. Like I invited her attentions. I knew we shouldn’t have come to this goddamn party, but being right doesn’t make the ride to Lena’s place any easier.
There’s an awkwardness between us that hasn’t been there since the first week we knew each other. We don’t chit chat, don’t laugh and flirt. The cab is filled with a tense silence that leaves me on the verge of fury. Not at Lena, but at fate, at Savage who wouldn’t fucking leave it alone about the party, at Ivan who scared her, and at the woman who made my girl think I was some kind of cheating fuckhead.
I park in front of her apartment and we sit there staring out the windshield.
“Do you want to come in?” Lena asks after a few seconds, her voice quiet, uncertain.
Now there are two things I can do. Admit defeat and go back to my dorm where I can regroup to renew my campaign to make her mine, make her realize I’m not going to fuck her over. Or, I can go in there right now and lay it all out for her, strike while the iron’s hot, that kind of thing. Of course I’ll be winging it, but at least it wouldn’t give her more time to think, to come up with reasons why we shouldn’t be together.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. We need to talk.”
Lena
I don’t know how a night could go so wrong so quickly, but Anders and I are more like strangers than two people who’ve become close in the last month. I lead the way upstairs once he helps me from the truck, conscious of him right behind me. But I keep seeing that gorgeous woman practically devouring him with her eyes. She was a little older than us, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties, but she was so beautiful and sexy, I’m sure any guy would give his left arm to be with her.
We enter my apartment and I toss my keys on the table with a barely stifled sigh. Anders says we need to talk. I’m pretty sure that’s the code for this-isn’t-working-for-me-anymore despite our heavy make-out session earlier tonight. It stings. No, that’s not true. It hurts. A lot. As though someone reached into my chest and carved out my heart. With a spoon.
“What are you thinking?” Anders asks when he closes the door behind him, engaging the lock.
I glance at him through the veil of my hair to see he looks just as good now as he did when we started out this crazy night. He’s watching me, arms folded across his massive chest and a mighty frown on his handsome face.
I don’t want to be that girl, the jealous girlfriend who flies off the handle at the smallest attention her boyfriend gets. It isn’t as though they were having sex right there in the hallway. On the other hand, I’ve never done this before. This being a relationship with a guy who apparently draws women like bees to honey.
Don’t be a wimp, Lena Elizabeth Leblanc. Tell him.
“Is it always like that?” I ask him in a voice I barely recognize as my own, it’s so small. “Girls and women throwing themselves at you?”
Anders lets out this sigh that seems to last forever. “No.”
This time I can’t help but look at him, meeting his gaze. “You can tell me the truth.” I laugh a little shakily. “It’s not like I’m asking how many girls you’ve been with. I just need to know if this is normal for you.”
He takes a step forward, his gaze intent. “Ask me.”
I rear back. “What?”
“Ask me how many girls I’ve been with, Lena. Do it.”
My stomach flips inside out, b
ile rising up my esophagus. I can feel my mouth tremble. I really don’t want to know the answer to that question. There’s no way I can compete with all the beautiful girls who chase the football players. But the look in his eyes doesn’t leave me any other option.
“How many girls have you been with?” The question comes out as a whisper, my throat too tight for anything else.
“None.” He takes another step forward. “I’ve never been with any girl that way. I’ve made out with a few since coming to college, like what you and I have done, but that’s it.”
“Wh-What?” I breathe, my heart finally beating again, pounding hard enough that I feel it in my temples.
His big hands get shoved into the pockets of his jeans and he hunches his shoulders a little, but looks me straight in the eye. “I’ve never had sex with anyone. And that woman,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s up with her, but I didn’t ask her to touch me. I was trying to get her to leave, except apparently the word “no” didn’t translate well.” He takes another step forward until our toes are practically touching. “I don’t want anyone else but you, Lena. Just you.”
I study him carefully, trying to wrap my mind around the concept that this beautiful, sweet, brilliant man is as virginal as I am. Does it bother me that he’s made out with other girls? A little bit, but not as much as the thought of him doing more.
“Anders,” I whisper, unable to tear my gaze away from him.
His smile is shy, his cheeks a little pink, but when he takes his hands out of his pockets to slide them around my waist, tugging me against him, it’s with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants. And goes for it.
“I want it to be with you,” he says in a gruff voice. His fingers dig into my butt, helping to press his erection into the softness of my belly. “I want to share that first experience with you and only you.”
Oh my god, I’m going to cry. My lips tremble, my eyes sting as happiness fills me. But before the first tear falls, Anders kisses me. It’s a sweet kiss full of gentle exploration, as though we’ve never done it before, as though it’s the very first time. It’s an affirmation of his wish to lose his virginity with me; for us to lose it together.
