Jack Hammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  I worked at the university for several days without even a single sighting of Chelsey. I guessed in a way that was a good thing. I had too many things going on in my life to worry about what she was doing or thinking when it came to me.

  The following day, my luck ran out in that department. I was outside of a different building edging the sidewalk, when I heard her familiar voice once again. Looking up, I expected to see her with another professor, but this time it was a younger guy.

  He was tall and dressed exactly how I pictured an Ivy League stiff to dress. His light hair was longer, and he kept tossing it to the side with the flick of his head. He held a messenger bag over his arm, and I watched as he offered to take Chelsey’s bag for her.

  A memory of the first time I’d ever spoken to her moved through my mind. I could remember the panicked look on her face as she cleaned her things from the hallway floor. She was so young—so sweet—so fucking beautiful. I was obsessed with her from that moment on.

  Mr. Ivy League smiled down at my Chelsey before reaching out and touching her arm as he spoke. The sick desire to rip his arm from his body and beat him to death with it took over me.

  I stared at them like they were a bad accident, and when she smiled back at him, it felt like a punch to the balls. I swallowed hard, not even paying attention to the job I was supposed to be doing. And then she must’ve felt my eyes on her because she turned to face me.

  Her dark eyes moved over my face once before she looked away. I moved closer to hear what they were saying.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. But thank you for asking,” she said.

  “Maybe another time?” Ivy League asked.

  “Sure. Maybe another time.”

  A date.

  He asked her on a date and she declined. Still, bile moved into my throat and my stomach burned like it was on fire. I felt sick. I wanted to put my fist through his face, but more than anything I wanted to stop the madness going on in my head and the heavy jealousy that moved around my gut.

  Chelsey wasn’t mine—hadn’t been for a long time—if she ever was. Yet, I was livid at the idea of her going out with another guy. I couldn’t decide if that was right or wrong. All I knew was while I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted when it came to Chelsey, I certainly didn’t want anyone else to have her.

  29

  CHELSEY

  BLAINE WAS EVERYWHERE. He was in my nightmares—in my dreams—and when I wasn’t sleeping, he was at school waiting outside my classes.

  His eyes were always on me, always taunting me with the pain I felt when I saw him. I hated it, but at the same time I couldn’t deny the feeling I got every time I saw his face.

  He worked for the landscaping company who was doing the grounds around school, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d stopped stripping. Part of me hoped that was the case. Blaine wasn’t mine—he’d never been mine—but the thought of women looking at him or touching him sickened me.

  I went a few days without seeing him after the first time, and I’d begun to relax into my usual schedule. I was just leaving class when Charles, a guy I had several classes with, stopped me outside the building.

  I felt Blaine’s eyes on me the entire time. It was hard to explain, but it was like the sun was heating my skin when he looked at me. I barely realized Charles was asking me out of a date.

  I said no, but I was flattered that he asked me. Charles was nice looking and extremely smart, which was kind of a turn on. But the fact of the matter was, I didn’t have time for guys. Once I was done and I was a doctor, I’d make time for men. Until then, school was most important.

  I pretended like Blaine wasn’t there when I walked by him to go to my next class.

  “Poor, Ivy League. He didn’t stand a chance with a stiff like you,” Blaine muttered as I walked by.

  I should’ve ignored him, but I couldn’t help myself. Turning on my heel, I faced him with narrowed eyes and a pinched mouth.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “All I’m saying is, you’re a stick in the mud. Always have been, always will be. I had to practically use a crowbar to get your legs to open for me.”

  I felt tears rush to my eyes, but before he could see them, I turned quickly and left. I hated him so much. I hated him because he brought out so much emotion in me, but worst of all, I hated him because he was right. I hadn’t had fun since him, and knowing what I knew now, that fun didn’t count. I was all in, Blaine never was.

  **********

  THREE DAYS LATER, when a few of the girls in my class asked if I wanted to join them for a frat party, it was Blaine’s parting words that pushed me to agree. Not to mention, I was ahead of the game in the assignments department. I could afford to take the night away from the books and get out of my apartment for some air.

  I took my car and used the GPS on my phone to find the place. When I pulled up, the lawn was littered with college students. Cars were parked everywhere and the music from the stately, brick house could be heard from down the road.

  I parked and made my way across the yard looking for a familiar face. Going to a party wasn’t something I usually did. Going to party alone made me feel like Wonder Woman. But part of me wanted to show Blaine I could be reckless… I could be fun. Even if he wasn’t there to witness it, I knew I was doing it, and that’s all that mattered.

  Stepping through the doors was like stepping into an underground club. People were packed in the room so tightly their sweaty bodies were pressed against each other. I slid through the room, making my way to a quiet corner until I could find the girls who invited me

  I didn’t know them well, but we had a few classes together. One them, a girl named Riley, and I always landed in the same study groups. We were total opposites, of course. She somehow managed to have a life and still make nice grades.

  Smoke swarmed around the room, and when the music would take a break to switch songs, the laughter and conversation of those around me replaced the noise. I pressed my back against the wall, keeping my eyes trained away from those who were openly making out.

  And then I saw Riley, and the strange pressure on my chest lifted. She made her way across the room to me, her short skirt moving up her legs and giving the guys she passed the perfect view of her toned thighs. She smiled, and I smiled back at her, relief filling me.

  “Hey, girl! I didn’t think you’d show,” she yelled over the music. “Want to get something to drink?”

  I opened my mouth to say no, but then Blaine’s words moved across my memory. I found myself nodding and following her to the kitchen where a guy was manning the kegs. He pumped it and then filled a plastic cup with beer before handing it over to me.

  I sipped the beer, and my face pinched at the flavor. It was gross, but everyone around me seemed to think it was okay, so I assumed it hadn’t gone bad. I followed Riley around, being introduced to a bunch of people I knew from my classes. Everyone was really nice, and by the time I finished off my second beer, I could feel the relaxation seeping into my muscles.

  Thirty minutes later, when Riley and the girls starting pouring shots, I was giggling right along with them. I was handed a tiny, shot glass, and I took it and held it out with the rest of the girls.

  “Here’s to college life. May we never forget to let our hair down and have a little fun.” Riley held up her cup and the rest of us followed suit.

  “Bottoms up!” I slurred, before I slammed the shot and swallowed hard.

  Liquid fire moved down my throat, making me gasp and choke. The girls laughed and I was so buzzed I laughed along with them.

  And then I looked up and my eyes clashed with a beautiful set of translucent blues.

  Blaine.

  The side of his mouth tilted up in a cocky grin before he lifted his cup to me. I growled into the space around me. He. Was. Everywhere!

  Instead of lifting my cup to him, I lifted my hand and flipped him off from across the room. The alcohol was definitely loosening me up. I couldn’t reme
mber a time when I’d ever flipped someone off.

  He shook his head and I could see from his face that he chuckled. Damn him. Then he licked his plump bottom lip before he lifted his cup to his mouth and took a drink. He was with a group of guys that looked like trouble, his black, Henley shirt was tight across his chest and his rugged jeans were hanging on to his slim hips for dear life.

  God, he was beautiful.

  Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous? And why couldn’t I get away from him and all the memories we made together?

  He moved across the room toward me, and I stiffened. The girls next to me ran their eyes over Blaine as he strutted across the room as if he owned the place. That was one thing about him that annoyed me the most. He owned every room he was in. He was comfortable with himself and his confidence only made him sexier.

  Moving into the wall, I pressed my back against it like I was trying to escape. He noticed and smiled as he closed the distance between us. And then he was standing in front of me. The smell of his cologne wafted around me, making me dizzy and my mouth watery.

  “Well, look what we have here.” He leaned in close so only I could hear him. “If it isn’t Miss Ivy League. I figured you’d be asleep already.”

  I didn’t have a comeback for two reasons. One: I was totally drunk. The room around me felt tilted and I felt my body beginning to drag. And two: he was right. I would’ve been curled up in bed with a book hours ago had I not taken the time to rebel against him.

  “Don’t,” I said, turning my head and preparing to walk away.

  He reached out and gripped the top of my arm, stopping me. I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him.

  “What?” He leaned in closer, the warmth from his body tingling the side of my face. “Don’t get pissed off because I’m right.”

  “I’m not the girl I used to be, Blaine.”

  I was lying. I was still the girl I used to be. As a matter of fact, it was getting late and I wanted to go home. But there was no way in hell I’d go anywhere now that he was there.

  He snorted. “Please. It seems to me you’re even stiffer than you were a year ago.” He laid his palms against the wall behind me, boxing me into a tiny space filled with him. “We both know you’re only here to prove a point.”

  I looked away. Looking into his clear, blue eyes hurt too badly.

  “And what point is that?”

  I shouldn’t have asked, but the words just kept coming out. I blamed the alcohol.

  “That you’re not the stuck-up bitch I know you are.”

  And then he stepped away, leaving me cold and hurt by his words. I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. I gasped from the pain rocketing through my chest.

  I felt sick to my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or his words making me nauseated, but I suddenly had a desire to run outside and get sick in the yard.

  I watched his back as he moved across the room, stopping to talk to random people like he’d known them all his life.

  What was he doing there in the first place? He didn’t even go to school with any of these people.

  Then again, I guess it didn’t matter. Blaine had it all. He always had. He was rebellion and sex combined with a lopsided, roguish grin that made the girls go crazy for him. It was a winning combination that always affected my decision making abilities.

  The music was loud all around me. The girls were off on the makeshift dance floor grinding their bodies on each other and the guys who danced around them. And something inside me clicked. I wasn’t what Blaine claimed me to be. I wasn’t cold and stiff. I wasn’t boring.

  Those were the reasons he left me all those years ago. He never said so, but I knew it deep in my heart. More than anything I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted to show him what he was missing out on. I wanted him to see that the girl he broke a year before was really fun and exciting… maybe even a little sexy. But more than anything, I wanted to hurt him as badly as he hurt me.

  Setting my drink on the table beside me, I moved toward the girls who were dancing. Blaine thought he was so exciting because he took his clothes off for women every night. It was time I showed him how exciting I could be.

  30

  BLAINE

  FRAT PARTIES WEREN’T USUALLY MY THING, but I had a few hours to kill before I headed to The Golden Banana and some friends of mine were meeting me there.

  Imagine my shock when I looked across the room and saw Chelsey there taking shots with the girls and a cup in her hand. I was drawn to her, and I found myself moving across the room to be near her without even thinking about it.

  I wanted to kiss her sweet lips and take her away from the party. She was too good for the scene around her. Too good for a lot of things, including me, but instead of pressing myself closer to her—breathing her in and kissing her lips—I walked away.

  By the time I made it to the other side of the room, a group of guys were moving toward the makeshift dance floor. Their hoots and whistles were drowned out by the loud music, meaning there was probably some skank on the floor letting all her goods hang out.

  Parking my ass in a chair in the corner, I finished my water. I was the only sober man in the room. Part of me wanted to leave, especially now that I knew Chelsey was there, but the other part of me knew I couldn’t go anywhere until I knew she was safe at home. It was a sickness. I was always weakened by her

  Standing, I moved toward the kitchen to get another drink. When the group parted a bit, and I was able to see exactly who it was eliciting all the attention from the guys, my mouth dropped open in shock and rage.

  Chelsey.

  She had her eyes closed, grinding her hips and running her hands down her sweet little body in a seductive manner. I’d seen her move that way before when she was on top of me—loving me—letting me mark her as mine. It was wrong for anyone else to see her that way. Anger shot through my spine when a guy reached out and grabbed her ass.

  Dropping my plastic cup, I pushed two guys to the side and moved into the circle. I pushed another guy out of my way when he stepped in front of me for a closer look. And then she was moving before me as if no one else was in the room.

  She opened her eyes, and glared at me. She was drunk. How had I not noticed she was drunk when I had her against the wall? Her bloodshot eyes beat into me as she licked her lips and lifted the bottom of her shirt showing a little bit of skin. The guys around me went nuts.

  Then she bit into her bottom lip and lifted her shirt higher. She was pretending to strip. I moved closer into the circle, eyeing her with narrowed eyes and a pinched mouth. I was beyond angry at her for making such a scene.

  And then she lifted her shirt higher, showing her white bra, before she ripped it from her body and swirled it over her head like a helicopter. Enough was enough. I moved and snatched her shirt from her hands. She pushed at my chest as I tried to pull her shirt back over her head. The guys around me booed, but I didn’t care.

  “Stop it, Blaine,” she slurred.

  I didn’t stop. Instead, I roughly pulled her arms through the shirt as she continued to fight me off.

  “You’re not doing this,” I growled.

  “What am I not doing? What? You can strip your clothes off for people, but I can’t?”

  I didn’t respond. Instead I pulled her shirt down, covering her virginal bra.

  “Hey, man. Leave her alone, dude. Let her dance,” some frat fuck said to me as he tugged on my arm.

  I didn’t respond. I just turned and pushed him into the table beside us. Beers flew soaking the rug beneath the table.

  “What the fuck, Blaine!” Chelsey shrieked, again pushing at me.

  I hated when she cursed. It wasn’t her. None of this shit was her. She didn’t need to be here, and it was my fault. I pushed her too hard. I teased her too much for being a saint. The reality of the situation was I liked her being the way she was. I didn’t have to worry about her and other guys. I didn’t have to worry about her going out and
getting drunk and killed.

  “We’re leaving,” I said, grasping her hand and pulling her off the floor.

  She pulled back and dug in her heels.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know who the hell you think you are but—”

  I didn’t let her finished. Instead, I bent over and scooped her up before tossing her over my shoulder like she weighed nothing. She continued to curse me and pound at my back with her tiny fists. I ignored her, and I left the party without saying goodbye to my boys.

  The night air cooled my hot skin as I took the steps to the yard two at time.

  “Where do you live?” I asked.

  “Kiss my ass,” she yelled from behind me. “I’m not telling you anything.”

  She fought hard as I kept walking across the yard toward where I parked my car.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time, Chelsey. Where. Do. You. Live?”

  I set her in front of me and steadied her when she began to lean. She glared up at me, her eyes burning something deep inside of me. And then the strangest thing happened. Tears sprang to her eyes and she covered her face with her hands and began to bawl.

  Her cries hurt my stomach, making me feel sick. I wanted to make her feel better. I hated seeing her sad… I always had. It was etched in my DNA to comfort her and take away any pain that came to her, but I couldn’t. The memory of the blow she dealt to me was still fresh. So, instead I went tense. I stood there watching as she cried into her hands.

  When she looked up at me, her big, brown eyes full of pain were like a shot to the chest. My fingers itched to reach out for her—to pull her to me and hold her—but instead I stared back at her.

  “I bet you’re just loving this aren’t you?” she slurred.

  She’d never been so wrong.

  “You won, Blaine. I cracked. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She was yelling at me now, her voice raw with emotion as the tears kept rushing down her cheeks.