The Freshman

by Monica Murphy

  Caleb goes to stand on the other side of Tony. I’m in between Tony and Gracie, so maybe that’ll be enough space to keep them from fighting with each other?

  Probably not, but I’m hopeful.

  I chat with Gracie while Tony talks to Caleb. She’s a bundle of nervous energy, hopping up and down, shaking out her hands, as if she’s about to enter a boxing ring. She’s anxious on Robin’s behalf, and I think it’s cute, how she always throws herself wholeheartedly into a guy and their potential relationship.

  Roadies appear on stage, setting up equipment, including a drum set. Some of the teens leave. Actually, a lot of them leave, and we’re able to shift even closer to the stage. Gracie looks worried.

  “I thought they would stick around for the main attraction,” she says, nibbling on her lower lip.

  “Looks like our friend stole the show and the crowd,” Caleb crows.

  Tony hits him in the chest, and he shuts up.

  A sigh escapes Gracie when her gaze returns to mine. “If this doesn’t go the way he expects, Robin is going to be in the worst mood ever.”

  “Have you witnessed his bad moods before?” I ask.

  She nods. “He’s very moody.”

  I glance over at Tony, who winks at me. On anyone else, I would think it’s a cheesy move. With Tony, I can’t ignore the little shiver that streaks through me. That wink is full of promise. That smile curving his lips? Also full of promise. He appears completely unruffled, even after his friend made a public spectacle of himself, and Gracie tried to start a fight. Even after tons of teenaged girls screamed their heads off for their friend and they had no clue said friend was even doing this, he’s as cool as a freakin’ cucumber.

  I always thought that saying was stupid. Now I think it’s pretty apt.

  “It’s going to be fine.” I rise up on my tiptoes and hook my arm around Gracie’s shoulders, giving her a squeeze. She’s taller than me and this position is uncomfortable, so I let her go. “He’s going to put on a great show and that record exec is going to scoop them up. Next thing we know, we’ll be watching their music video on YouTube and they’ll make millions touring the world.”

  I am talking big, huge dreams right here, but it’s exactly what Gracie needs to hear. The tension visibly leaves her shoulders and she nods, the smile growing on her face.

  “Hell yeah! And I’ll get to say I knew him back when they were nothing,” she adds.

  “Exactly.”

  Within minutes, the band comes out on stage and starts tuning their instruments. Some of the girls yell their enthusiasm, but it’s low decibel compared to the pitched screams from earlier.

  Hmm.

  Tony snags my hand and pulls me close, ducking so he can whisper in my ear. “Tell me the truth. Do they suck?”

  I pull away, so I can look into his eyes. I shake my head while saying, “Yes.”

  His dark brows draw together. “Yes, they suck, or no they don’t?”

  I tug on his hand so now I’m the one whispering in his ear. “They’re awful.”

  “Really?” Our faces are so close, our cheeks are touching. “They’re that bad?”

  “Terrible. Caleb is going to have the time of his life, screaming at them,” I say solemnly.

  “Want me to talk to him? Tell him to keep it down?”

  He is truly the sweetest. If I was smart, I would make him my boyfriend as fast as humanly possible. But the idea of having an actual boyfriend still makes me a little nervous. “Please. Gracie’s a nervous wreck. And I don’t want her to get arrested for murder. That’ll ruin our evening.”

  Tony smiles. “He only does it to antagonize her.”

  “Thank God you’re not like that.”

  “Why would I want to antagonize my friend?” He smiles, obviously teasing me.

  I kiss him, because he’s so close. “Right. And all the friend talk isn’t supposed to annoy me.”

  “Does it? You’re the one who originally wanted to keep it friendly,” he reminds me.

  I pull him in closer and really kiss him. With tongue and everything, right here in the middle of the crowd. He responds quickly, wrapping his arms around me so our lower bodies are nestled close together, our mouths still fused, our tongues tangling. I’d much rather do this than watch Robin and the rest of Bat’s Cave perform.

  “Get a room,” Caleb says, his voice so close, I pull away from Tony to find him standing right beside us. Like he could lean in and kiss us too.

  Tony shoves a hand in Caleb’s face, pushing him away. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  Caleb laughs. “I’d try and make a move on someone, but I’m afraid they’re all underage in here.”

  “I’m not,” Gracie says.

  I glance over my shoulder and send her a look that says, what the hell are you doing?

  She just shrugs like she can’t help herself.

  “You two shouldn’t speak to each other for the rest of the night.” Tony readjusts himself so he’s standing behind me, arms wrapped around my waist, chin resting on top of my head. Oh, this is nice. “We’re keeping you guys separated.”

  “Whatever,” Caleb mutters.

  Guitars start playing, and we turn our attention to the stage. Robin and the lead guitarist are both angrily strumming, and the sound is nothing but noise. Not necessarily a song.

  There was no announcement, no introduction. Robin leans into the mic and starts singing. He’s slightly off-key, and I can’t help but wonder if he has a frog in his throat, but Gracie is hopping up and down, screaming for him.

  Cheering him on.

  I do the same. I hear Tony yell his encouragement. Even Caleb joins in.

  And thank God, he doesn’t say anything inappropriate.

  It goes on like this for a solid thirty minutes. They perform song after song, not any I’m familiar with, despite Gracie playing their music for me in the car on the way over. Actually, she’s played them for me a few times. They’re on Spotify, of course, or was it Sound Cloud? Probably both. As they play on, they start to sound better, but I have to admit…

  Jackson Rivers is a better singer and guitar player. Not that I would ever say that to Gracie.

  There was something so intimate about Jackson’s performance, though. Despite the constant screaming from the audience, the way he plucked at his guitar and crooned his lyrics into the mic, it was as if he was singing to me and no one else.

  Watching Robin, it seems like he’s trying too hard. Maybe he’s nervous, since he knows the record exec could be out here, watching them? I don’t know.

  But now I feel sort of bad.

  I start swaying to the beat, trying to get into it. The drummer is actually pretty good. I pay attention to the lyrics, and I have to say Gracie is right. They’re not bad.

  Tony keeps his hold on me while I move, his hands resting lightly on my hips. People start to crowd us, trying to get closer, and Gracie becomes annoyed.

  “I can’t see!” she yells.

  “Sit on my shoulders,” Caleb leans over us to yell at Gracie.

  She crosses her arms. “Over my dead body.”

  “Fine.” Caleb shrugs. “I offered.”

  I keep moving to the beat. Tony laughs in my ear, his mouth so close it tickles. “They’re ridiculous.”

  Within minutes, Gracie makes her way over to Caleb and he’s hoisting her on his shoulders. She shouts with delight, a giant smile on her pretty face.

  “I can see everything!”

  She sings along with the songs as loud as she can, her thighs clamped tight around Caleb’s head, his arms gripping around her knees so she doesn’t fall off. She points at Robin when he finishes the song and the crowd goes wild, but he scowls at her. That’s his only acknowledgement of the girl he’s dating.

  What a jerk.

  The band launches into another song and Tony grabs hold of my hand, murmuring, “Come with me,” before he yanks me away from the crowd gathered around the stage.

  I follow him, not wor
ried about Gracie. Despite her irritation with him, she’s safe with Caleb. I think he’s just trying to get a rise out of her.

  But all thoughts of Caleb and Gracie and their argumentative foreplay disappear the moment we’re tucked behind a wall, near the back exit. Tony wraps me up in his arms and lifts me, his big hands cradling my ass, and my legs automatically wrap around his waist. He’s so strong. I should’ve known, considering he’s an athlete who trains daily, but still.

  I’m impressed.

  There’s no buildup, no words spoken. He’s suddenly kissing me. Devouring me, really. His hot, hard mouth on mine is working its magic, breaking down my defenses, making my muscles, everything within me loosen. Public displays of affection aren’t my jam, but somehow, I’m letting him grope me in the darkened hallway of a bar, and I don’t care who sees.

  None of those teenagers out there would care anyway.

  His fingers press into my flesh and he slowly thrusts against me in time with the thrust of his tongue in my mouth, and oh God. It feels so good. I moan. I twist my fingers into his hair and tug extra hard. I push my pelvis against his, feel the hard ridge of his cock and my panties grow instantly wet.

  I want him. Worse than I did last time, because now I know. His taste, how his cock feels in my mouth, what he looks like when he comes. I want all of that again, and more. I had no idea I could be so turned on while listening to Bat’s Cave screeching in the background.

  It’s Tony who ends the kiss first. “We probably shouldn’t do this here.”

  He’s panting, pressing his forehead against mine, his chest heaving. I touch his cheek. Rest my hand against his chest, the pounding of his heart a speedy rhythm beneath my palm. He’s so hot. I say that out loud.

  “It’s this fucking jacket. I’m burning up. Should’ve never worn it.” He sounds so angry, I start to laugh. Eventually, he does too.

  “I like it,” I whisper against his lips after our laughter dies. “You look sexy.”

  “You’re fucking sexy in this tank top.” He removes one hand from my butt and I cling to him, my thighs tight around his waist. He settles that hand on my breast, his thumb streaking across my nipple in the barest caress. There’s a growing ache between my legs, and my mind is suddenly filled with images of me and Tony. New ones, where we’re completely naked. Rolling around in a bed.

  “I like the black bra,” he says, interrupting my dirty thoughts.

  “I knew you would.” I grin, smugly.

  “Hey. I thought we were just friends here.”

  “Really?” I lift a single brow. “After what happened in the back seat of your car, you can still say that with a straight face?”

  “I just like giving you shit.” He chuckles.

  “There’s nothing friendly about this.” I slide my hand down until it rests directly over his erection.

  Damn, that thing is impressive.

  “I have to disagree. It’s really fucking friendly.” He thrusts against my hand, making me wish I was touching bare skin.

  I idly stroke him. “We should probably get back.”

  His eyes look ready to cross at any moment. “Really?”

  “They’re going to wonder where we went. Then they’ll try and find us.” More stroking, my fingers curling, molding the exact shape of him beneath the denim.

  “Let them find us.” A ragged breath leaves him when I squeeze. “You keep that up and I’m going to come in my jeans.”

  “We can’t have that. I don’t want to waste it.” My hand drops and he looks disappointed. “Put me down.”

  He does as I ask, settling me on my feet. “What did you mean by that? You don’t want to waste it?”

  “When you come tonight, it’ll either be in my mouth, or inside me.” I smile. He groans. “That’s what I meant.”

  “You’re a fucking tease,” he practically growls, his face pressed against my hair.

  “You like it.” Grinning, I take his hand and lead him back toward the thinning crowd. Where did all the girls go? Is it past their curfew? I mean, it is a school night.

  We say nothing else as we make our way to Gracie and Caleb. She’s still sitting on his shoulders, and she’s swaying to the music, which is sort of forcing Caleb to do the same. The band is performing a slow song, and those left remaining in the audience are swinging their arms in the air back and forth, their lit phones in their hand. We stop right beside Caleb, who sends us a knowing look before he squeezes Gracie’s thighs, making her squeal and glance down.

  “They’re back,” he says, sending us both a knowing look.

  Within minutes of our return, the performance is over. Robin shouts out a hoarse thank you. Gracie shrieks her approval. There’s a smattering of applause, a couple of hoots and hollers, and then the stage goes dark.

  They’re done. Finally.

  Gracie climbs off Caleb as if he’s a tree, dropping to her feet with a thud. “Thank you,” she tells him, and he nods his answer, rubbing his shoulders. “Was I too heavy?”

  “Nah, you’re pretty light, for being so tall,” he says as he stretches out his neck.

  “I need to go check on Robin,” she says to me. “Do you mind waiting here?”

  “Sure. They’ll wait with me.” I indicate to the guys.

  “Good. Give me a few. I don’t even know if he’ll have time to talk to me right now. Hopefully he’ll be talking to the record exec. Scout. Whatever they are.” Gracie takes off before I can say anything else.

  The moment she’s out of earshot, Caleb moves in closer, his voice dropping. “They sucked absolute ass, just as I predicted.”

  “I know.” I make a face, feeling bad. “I should’ve warned you.”

  “They weren’t very good,” Tony agrees. “Lead singer almost seemed…nervous?”

  “You mean Robin?” Caleb keeps a straight face, but he looks ready to burst out laughing. “Maybe knowing there’s a scout in the audience worked him up. We know how that feels, right?”

  Tony nods in agreement. “It’s the worst.”

  “What do you guys mean?” I’m confused.

  “When we were in high school, we had college coaches come out to scout us,” Tony explains. “The majority of them were looking at our friend, Jake. Teams from across the country were interested in him.”

  “Wait a minute.” I look Tony dead in the eye. “Are you talking about Jake Callahan? Son of Drew Callahan?”

  They both nod, grinning. “He was our quarterback. Drew was our team’s coach.”

  “Oh God.” My father might’ve not been a football fan, but everyone knows who Drew Callahan is. Former quarterback for the Forty-Niners. Took them to a couple of Super Bowls. Was a sports announcer for a short period of time. “You just—hang out with the Callahans on a regular basis?”

  I’m not one to be dazzled by celebrities, but Drew Callahan was a hottie back in the day. He still is, if you’re into older men. And I’ve seen photos of Jake Callahan.

  He looks just like his father.

  “Our friend Eli is going out with their daughter, Ava. Our Bulldog QB dates their oldest daughter, Autumn,” Caleb says.

  “No way.” I don’t really keep up with what our college football team does, but there’s a memory niggling at me. Reminding me that yes, I did hear that tasty little fact before about our QB and his connection to the Callahan football legacy. “I want to meet the Callahans someday.”

  “They’re all pretty awesome,” Tony says. “Jake is one of my best friends.”

  “He’s at USC, right?”

  “Yeah, and kicking ass there too,” Caleb adds. “Not to change the subject, but I want to know where Jackson is.”

  “Text him,” Tony says, waving at the phone clutched in Caleb’s hand. “Ask him.”

  “Do you think he noticed us?” Caleb starts tapping away.

  “How could he not? You were constantly screaming at him,” I say drolly.

  Caleb grins. “Couldn’t help myself. All those girls yelling for him, sing
ing along with his drippy romantic songs. Dude has a fucking fan club and he’s been keeping it a secret from us the whole time. Little fucker. He’s the new Justin Bieber!”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Tony says with a laugh. He turns his attention to me. “What did you think of him?”

  I don’t want to say something that makes it look like I’m lusting over Jackson Rivers, which I am so not. My lips still tingle from Tony’s kiss. And my fingers are itching to touch him again. But…

  “He has a very—intimate way of performing. I get the appeal.”

  “So you’d be a screaming fangirl over him too if you saw him again?” Caleb’s brows shoot up.

  “He’s a decent singer. Even better? He’s a great performer. He made me want to pay attention,” I say.

  “I get it,” Tony says with a nod. “He drew you in. He has a way about him. He draws everyone in.”

  “He only draws me in because I want to kick his ass in video games,” Caleb says.

  Tony rolls his eyes. I laugh. I’m really enjoying spending time with these two tonight. And Gracie. Speaking of…

  “Why did you keep giving Gracie shit?” I ask Caleb.

  “She’s cute when she’s mad.” He shrugs.

  “You made her really, really mad,” I say slowly.

  “I know, right? She’s so easy to provoke. Maybe it’s my charm she can’t resist.”

  “You’re so full of shit,” Tony practically groans.

  “What the fuck ever. Look, she’s taken. It’s easy to flirt with and irritate a girl who’s interested in someone else. She takes the bait I throw out, but it’s not like she wants to be with me,” Caleb further explains, “I’m like that annoying little brother you want to punch in the face.”

  I don’t bother saying he doesn’t know Gracie very well. Because he doesn’t. She could lose interest in Robin within the next few days, and move on to someone new almost immediately.

  Like Caleb.

  “Hey, she’s coming over here right now,” Caleb says, his eyes going wide. “Oh shit, she looks pissed.”

  Gracie is, indeed, stomping her way over to us. She grabs hold of my hand and starts walking, the guys falling into step behind us. “We’re leaving,” she declares. “I hope Robin chokes on his precious microphone and dies.”