I went home alone and played handball until I blew my load and passed out.
Good fucking times.
The library was mostly empty except for a few last-minute crammers. Sundays weren’t really considered study days around campus. When we sat down, she got straight to business. She dropped her bag onto the table and pulled out notes, books, and a pencil. I followed her lead, opening my book to the study guide we were being tested on.
The lights above us were just bright enough to read the words on the page in front of me. My eyes scanned the same sentence repeatedly, my brain not soaking up any information. Every now and again, my eyes would flicker up to Gretchen, watching the way her fingers skimmed the pages.
Feeling my eyes on her, she set her pencil down and looked up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged casually.
“You’re lying.”
“Am not.” Against my will, my lips tilted into a grin.
Shaking her head, she went back to studying.
An hour later, she stood and stretched, allowing me to admire her small waist when her tank lifted. The lighting above us reflected off her bellybutton piercing. I bit into my lip imagining nibbling the tiny diamond ring.
“You thirsty?” she asked.
I nodded.
I was fucking parched.
My mouth was dry with want for her.
I was so fucking horny I could barely stand myself.
We packed up our things and hit the drink machine before exiting the library. The cold soda in my hand stung my hot fingertips. I sipped it, not tasting anything as my eyes took in Gretchen in front of me. Walking her to her car was the right thing to do, but I wasn’t sure I could keep my thoughts in much longer.
Opening her car door, she tossed her bag into the front seat. Before she could climb in, I reached out and gently touched her arm. She turned toward me, her eyes moving over my face and sucking the air from my lungs.
“Are we okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
No. I’m not okay. I’m ready to explode.
Sadness moved over her expression. “You’re still lying to me.”
I sighed, annoyed, and turned to walk away. After the last few weeks with her, I was done kissing ass.
She grabbed my arm, stopping me as her round nails dug into my skin.
“I’m sorry about the kiss, okay?” The words flew from her mouth as if she couldn’t get the words out fast enough.
All it did was add fuel to my fire.
I was pissed that she was apologizing for it as if it was bad or something. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that stupid fucking kiss. I’d had two blowjobs since our kiss and still my night with her was better than both blowjob nights put together.
“Yeah. Me too. It shouldn’t have happened. No offense, but you’re not really my type.”
Lies.
Sure, in the beginning she wasn’t my type, but now, after getting to know her, she was perfect for me.
The words left a bitter burn on my tongue.
She nodded. “Yeah. You’re not my type either. It was a mistake.”
Hurt ricocheted through my chest, making me even angrier. I bit the inside of my bottom lip to keep from losing it on her.
Not her type?
She was lying more than I was.
I stood there, shocked by her words a bit, and then I knew it was time I left before I said something I’d regret later. Just as I was about to walk away, she said something that pushed me over the edge.
“I’m not that kind of girl anyway. The only reason it happened is because I’d been drinking.”
I snapped.
Was she really going to blame it on the alcohol?
This wasn’t a fucking Jamie Foxx song.
Hell, no.
I wasn’t having it.
I moved in, pressing her against her car with my body and shoving my knee between her juicy thighs. Capturing her eyes with mine, I leaned over her.
“Sawyer,” she choked. “What are you doing?”
Her palms pressed into my chest with sad determination. She couldn’t push a child away with the amount of pressure she was using. She obviously wanted everything I was doing.
I rubbed circles on the soft skin behind her ear with my thumb and let my eyes drift down to her lips. I was playing with her, but still, it affected me, too. Slowly, I moved over her and pressed a soft kiss on the spot I’d so sweetly rubbed.
A sigh escaped her throat and her rushing pulse vibrated against my lips. Moving up, I ran my tongue up the side of her neck to her jaw. Nipping at the skin of her chin, I moved up yet again until my lips were skimming hers. It was taking all the control I had not to move in and devour her, but it was time she learned a very important thing.
She wanted me.
Alcohol or not, she fucking wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
Her eyes were closed and her fingers were buried in my shirt as she tugged me closer. Her lips were moist, parted and ready for my kiss.
And I knew I had her.
Instead of giving her what she so obviously wanted, I pulled away, leaving her car holding her up.
“I guess your soda’s been spiked, huh? Sorry. I shouldn’t take advantage of a drunk woman that way.”
Her mouth fell open, and I enjoyed her expression before I turned and walked away.
I didn’t look back as I climbed in my truck and peeled out of the parking lot.
I was done.
The shit with Gretchen was over for real this time.
It wasn’t like me to dwell on a woman, and it was time I let the shit go and be myself again. She wanted to just be friends, then so be it. We’d be friends. I’d push whatever was developing for Gretchen away and focus on the game. And as soon as I could, I’d move past the blowjobs and find me a random piece of ass to take the edge off.
I was that girl. I’d tried to avoid being her. I tried so hard, but he’d broken through my defenses like a true player. Without even realizing it, Sawyer had moved right in. It was a Hail Mary of blazing blue eyes, perfect smiles, and the cutest fucking dimples ever.
I never stood a chance.
I was doomed from the start, and knowing that made me sick to my stomach.
I didn't know when it happened, but suddenly, I was so attracted to Sawyer I could barely contain myself. I distinctly remembered not being attracted to him, which freaked me out because that meant his personality had won me over.
Yes. Sawyer had a winning personality, too.
He was a threat to all vag in a five-mile radius.
I couldn’t lie to myself; he was easy to get along with. He was funny. He was intelligent, and even though he did a damn good job of hiding it, he had more heart than he let on. I saw it every time he talked about his teammates—every time he smiled with a fan while taking a picture.
Once he’d signed a football for a sick kid—his Camden hat was covering his bald head and his sickness was obvious in his fevered eyes. Sawyer picked the kid up and took him on the field with the rest of the team. It was beautiful seeing how he’d made that kid’s day, and he’d done it without even a second thought.
He was all heart, which I knew was the reason he played so hardcore all the time. A big heart made for an easy target. Sawyer must have figured that out early on in life. He hid it so he didn’t get hurt. I understood that now.
I understood him.
To top it off, he was acting differently toward me. He was pulling away from me, which, of course, made me want to be near him even more. I knew it was for the best that he pulled away, but it still sucked, especially when he flirted with other girls. He was doing that a lot lately. It seemed like every time I saw him he was with a new girl, laughing and touching her—making me completely crazy.
I hated myself for feeling this way—for looking at Sawyer with the awestruck way I’d seen the other girls look at him. There I was, thinking I was so much better th
an the girls who chased him, but I wasn’t. Turns out, I wasn’t immune to his good looks and charming ways. Turns out, I had fallen for him without even realizing it. His kisses—his touches—everything about him drew me in, and there was no getting out.
I was lost in him.
Stuck.
“Can I help you, Gretchen?” Mr. Finch asked.
He was always in the admissions office, and after going there four times in the last week with plans to drop my Literature and Film course, he’d gotten to know my name. However, every time he handed over the drop class paperwork, I’d look at it, read it over, and hand it back.
I was ready to abandon my plan to bring Sawyer and Jacob back together, which was totally selfish on my part. At least, I felt selfish.
But wasn’t that what Jacob wanted?
Didn’t he want Sawyer to come around on his own terms?
I was just getting in the way, which was wrong.
At least that was what I told myself so I didn’t feel like the scum of the Earth.
In the end, even though I abandoned my plans to bring two friends back together, I stayed in my Lit and Film course. I couldn’t screw myself that way and the fact was I needed the credits.
My plans changed again three days later.
I went to visit my dad on a weekday, which was unusual for me, but I wanted to make sure he was well taken care of. He hadn’t been feeling well; at least that was what Aunt Irene and Natalie, his nurse, had texted me.
When I was done with my visit with my dad, I stopped by Newdale to see Jacob. He’d been acting funny on the phone as if he didn’t want to talk to me, and I knew something was up. Aunt Irene told me he was dodging her calls too. She was sure it was because he was busy with classes and practice, but I knew the real reason. I felt like shit that I wasn’t telling her that her son was sick.
I knew what I’d find when I went inside Jacob’s apartment, but still, I was never prepared. When he opened the door, my stomach weakened. He was declining fast, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I had to step up and tell his secret. He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He couldn’t keep going on the field. It was suicide, and I wasn’t ready to let him go.
Out of his mind with exhaustion, Jacob cried on my shoulder that night. I held him in my arms as he shook with sadness.
“I have one game left in me, maybe two,” he said.
“I’m going to tell Coach,” he repeated.
“I don’t have time to wait for Sawyer. I’m going to him. I need him to know why I wasn’t there for him.”
His words were crushing me, but still, I held him close and let him break down.
He went on and on about the things he wanted to do before he left school, went home, and took his final breath. He talked like a man who had already given up, when in reality, his fight was just beginning. He knew it, and I knew it, but if I knew one thing about my cousin, it was that he was a fighter.
I’d make him fight.
I wouldn’t let him give up, but just in case, I knew I needed to get shit right for him. If it were the last thing I did, I’d make sure he fulfilled his bucket list. Even if it meant putting myself in the path of emotions I didn’t want to feel. Even if it meant throwing my heart and myself in the path of Sawyer Reed.
The ball was snapped, and I threw it down the field, knowing it was a shitty throw even before it passed my receiver. To my dread, Boston College intercepted it and began to run it back. Quickly, my boys shut them down and the ball went loose and flittered across the field.
We recovered it, my boy Samuel throwing himself on top of the ball before the other players piled on top of him.
As I lined up for the next play, the guys were looking at me and shaking their heads. Obviously, I was playing for shit. Coach McCall’s eyes cut through me from the sideline, and I knew there was going to be hell to pay when I got close to him again.
I hunkered down, waiting for the snap while disappointment moved over me. I was angry with myself for playing so badly.
Usually, I dominated and the scoreboard was one-sided, but this time we were losing. The Boston boys strutted across the field with the cockiness I usually had.
I couldn't focus.
My brain was wrapped up in a set of tan thighs and innocent green eyes.
The coaches on the sidelines were slinging their hats down onto the turf and mouthing curses I was glad I couldn’t hear. I gritted my teeth, knowing I was letting them down. I had to get back into the game. I had to turn this shit around. We could come back from this, but I had to pull out a miracle, and I really had to block Gretchen from my mind.
Miraculously, we won. The final score thirty-four to seventeen. The win had more to do with our defense than it did with me.
In the locker room after the game, I sat on the bench and rested my sweaty face in my hands. I was embarrassed by my game. I was embarrassed by not getting the girl. And I was sick and tired of dwelling over the shit.
It was time Sawyer Reed was Sawyer Reed again. And that night, as the boys celebrated our win, I drank like a fish, hoping to numb the strange ache that had settled in my chest over the last few weeks.
Landon sat next to me on the couch, nursing his beer. He shook his head and tapped his knee against mine.
“What’s going on, bro? What the hell’s been eating at you?” he asked.
I didn’t even look his way. Instead, I took a swig from my beer and swallowed it slow.
Derrick fell onto the couch beside us. “We need to get our boy laid. He can’t play with all that buildup.”
They laughed.
“Leave him alone, y’all,” David said at our side. “He’s obviously having issues with Gretchen. What’s wrong, man?” he asked, gripping my shoulder. “She won’t give it up?”
I came unglued.
Shooting him a look, I dared him to try me.
Instead of losing it on my teammates, I stood from the couch and left the room. I heard them muttering behind me as I left. They were my brothers. I wasn’t about to take my anger out on them, even if they were closer to my problem than they knew.
Monday finally came and I walked to class feeling like a beaten dog. I turned my head when she walked into the room, not even acknowledging her. Without speaking, she took the seat next to me, and her sweet perfume sent chills down my spine.
As class carried on, she would occasionally glance in my direction with confusion on her face. She had her hair up in a long ponytail, and I could see the nape of her neck. There was something arousing about it, but I shook my head and refocused on class.
When she crossed her legs a little bit later, I found myself eyeing her. Her black leggings and oversized sweater did nothing to hide her figure. I could still see the round slope of her hips and the dip between her thighs. Her slim waist taunted my fingers when she turned and her sweater pressed tightly against her skin.
I was losing it.
Again, I redirected my attention back to the front of the room, wishing I could stop thinking about her.
This shit had to stop.
I needed to snap out of it.
It was affecting my game.
Gretchen was just another girl, right?
She was just another girl, and I needed to prove that to myself. Whatever it took, I’d do it—even if it meant a random hookup or five.
So that was what I did.
I spent every night that week with a different girl. There was lots of foreplay and I’d even managed to get off a few times, but no matter what, I couldn’t bring myself to have sex with any of them. Every time I tried, a strange, sick feeling would fill the pit of my stomach and the ache in my chest would begin to choke me.
It was really fucked up.
They were throwing themselves at me. The guy I used to be would catch whatever it was they were throwing and take it in greedily, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure what that said about me, but I didn’t like it.
Gretchen and I barely talked, and we never texte
d. We didn’t sit near each other in class the rest of that week, and even though it was bothering me, I pretended that all was okay. I hung out with my boys. I flirted with girls. I was the old me again, at least on the outside.
On the inside, I was a twisted mess. My nerves were a tangled web of fuck and my brain felt foggy and unresponsive. I pushed the emotions down deep, hoping they’d dissolve, but they kept finding their way back up—clawing at my throat and choking me with feeling.
Emotions and feelings weren’t my thing. They hadn’t been my thing since the day my mom took her last breath. It was a defense mechanism that always worked for me. That is until Gretchen stepped into my life and fucked it all up.
Now, I was turning on myself, and I wasn’t sure how to stop it.
Leaving class before the professor was even finished talking, I walked outside and found a spot on a low wall running alongside a garden. I had some time to kill before my next class, and I needed a breather. Rummaging through my bag, I looked up when I heard Gretchen’s laughter.
She was walking with a classmate, a quiet girl named Claire, and they were laughing as they turned to tell each other good-bye. When she turned my way, her eyes landed on me and her smile dropped. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she began to walk my way.
“Hey,” she said with a smile.
Her books were tucked tightly in her crossed arms and she rested her chin on them.
“Hey.”
“Can we talk?” Her innocent eyes moved over my face making me feel exposed and breathless.
“Yep. What’s up?”
She was fidgeting and nibbling nervously on her lips.
I’d never seen her act so uncomfortable around me.
I didn’t like it.
“I’m sorry I’ve been acting so crazy lately. I just have a lot on my mind.” She took a deep breath as if preparing herself for what was next. “I know you want more, Sawyer, but right now all I have to offer is friendship.”
She’d all but said those exact words before, and honestly, if I couldn’t have it all I didn’t want anything. At the same time, I missed hanging out with her. I missed her friendship.
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