Authors: Kendall Ryan
This weekend one of my frat brothers is playing at a local club and everyone is going to watch him perform.
I wouldn’t mind having Avery alone at my house, but she seems excited about going.
I
tell her I will pick her up, amazed that she’s set on doing this even without the safety net of her friends. Apparently, they have some theater party tonight. But I like that she trusts me. I stop in front of Avery’s dorm, where she’s waiting on the sidewalk. Her face lights up when she sees me. It’s strange to me that she wouldn’t kiss me, yet she clearly feels something when I’m around. This girl keeps me guessing, that’s for sure.
Before I can even exit the car to go around and open her door, Avery’s sliding in next to me.
“Hi, beautiful.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth curls upward. I don’t know who scared her away from male attention, but it’s clear she’s hungry for it
now. “Hi,” she returns.
“Ready to listen to some bad folk music?”
“Sure. I love bad folk music.”
“Then you’re in for a treat.”
We sit through two warm-up bands before my buddy Sloan makes his way to the stage. Our table of a dozen or so stands up and cheers for him. Avery does too, clapping and whistling with the rest of us. Sloan slouches on a stool and begins to strum a familiar cord. Just a man and his guitar – it’s a brave move. I’ve heard him play at the house, but never perform like this. His voice joins the notes and he’s actually decent.
Halfway through the set, Avery taps my knee. “I’m just
gonna run to the restroom.”
“I’ll take you.”
I rise with her.
She gives me a confused look, but nods.
I tell myself it’s because she’s so innocent and since I brought her here, she’s my responsibility to look after. But I know it’s more than that. I want every other guy in this place to know she’s with me. I rest my hand on her lower back and escort her through the bar. If I could create a sign and pin it on her back, I would. It would say
back the fuck off, she’s with me
.
I walk Avery to the back of the club and
wait in the hallway while she’s inside the ladies room. When she emerges, I can’t resist lacing her fingers between mine and guiding her back to our table, before pulling out her chair and settling down next to her.
After the set,
we head to my house and instead of taking Avery directly to my room, where I know I won’t be able to behave myself, we hang out with the small group that’s gathered in the living room. Due to limited seating, Avery sits on my lap, something that’s wreaking havoc on my self-control. I place one hand on her hip and she smiles politely at me. She wouldn’t be smiling if she knew the wicked thoughts playing through my mind right now. We’re having fun, debating the issue of our school mascot’s resemblance to a penis. Hearing Avery say the word penis is a treat. Her mouth pouts in the hottest way, and her cheeks are tinged in pink. Stacia comes in and interrupts. Damn Stacia always ruins all my fun.
The chatter in the room dies down as
a roomful of eyes look between Stacia and me, complete with Avery balanced on my lap.
Shit fuck
. This isn’t good. I feel Avery stiffen, and my hand involuntarily grips her hip, telling her to stay put. Stacia and I aren’t dating anymore. She’s just going to have to deal with it. Besides, it’s not like I invited her here tonight. I swear, I think she drives by and whenever there are lights on or cars in the driveway, she just comes in.
Stacia walks straight past me, swinging her hips and heads for the kitchen. “Trey, make me
a drink, hun,” she says, luring him after her.
I hate how she thinks men are at her beck an
d call. Shit, they usually are, but that doesn’t make it okay. And Trey’s an easy target. He’s just horny enough to follow.
Asshole.
That was
Stacia’s big complaint of me when she and I dated. I wasn’t
attentive
enough for her. Her word, not mine. She doesn’t want a boyfriend; she wants a pussy-whipped fool at her beck and call to spoil her rotten. Maybe I’ll feel that way about a girl someday, but not Stacia. She’s already spoiled enough. For the right person, I’ll want to do those things, not be guilt-tripped into them.
Even after Stacia
leaves the room, Avery’s stick-straight posture tells me she’s still uncomfortable. I want to get back to our easy banter. “I think it’s time for your next challenge,” I whisper near her ear, my lips rubbing against her skin.
Avery relaxes in my arms and turns slowly to glance
at me, a slow smile forming on her lips. “What’d you have in mind?”
If I
tell her what’s really on my mind, I’ll get slapped. “I want you to go talk to that guy over there.” I look pointedly at one of my frat brothers, who’s picked up Sloan’s acoustic and is butchering the simple notes.
“Done and done.” She smiles and rises from my lap.
As soon as her warm weight is gone, I’m regretting sending her away. But watching her confidence grow is a thing of beauty. I’m riveted watching Avery spark up a conversation with Jared. Maybe this was a bad fucking idea. He continues strumming the guitar, glancing up at her only occasionally, and only to give the briefest of replies.
A few seconds later, s
he slides back into my lap with a huff. “Well, that was a letdown. He practically ignored me.” She pouts. “Aren’t these little challenges supposed to be
good
for my self-esteem?”
I can’t help but smile.
Maybe it was cruel to send her over there, but it was just a stupid dare to see if she’d actually do it. “Sorry babe. I didn’t know you’d actually do it. Jared’s one of my brothers and he’s seen you in my lap all night – he’s not going to make a move on you. He values his face too much.”
“What?” Her confusion is adorable. “So you chose someone you knew wouldn’t talk to me?”
I shrug. “I can’t have another guy touching something I want for myself.”
Her mouth drops open. “Oh.”
We’ve been pretending that we’re friends, because it’s all she’s ready for, but she has to know I want more. I consider asking her to kiss me. Her mouth is right there, inches from mine, looking fucking delicious, but I can’t. I can’t bear to hear her turn me down. I glance up and spot a safe-looking target across the room: a guy who looks like he was raised on whole milk and Flintstone’s vitamins. Safe as white bread. I wonder if she’ll do it. At least it’d be easier to hear her turn him down. “That guy…over there.” I point and Avery’s eyes reluctantly leave mine to seek the target. “Kiss him.”
Her confused gaze meets mine.
“No kissing. I told you I’m not ready.”
Shit.
Now I feel like a dick. “Fine. Go talk to him then.” I hold her eyes, wondering what she’ll do.
Avery surprises me by glancing his way, and then walking toward him without another word.
Something twists inside me.
T
hey strike up a deep conversation, and I silently curse myself. This was my grand fucking plan…to drive her into the arms of another guy? I should punch myself in the face.
I sulk on the couch and watch them. I haven’t seen the guy around here before. He
actually looks like he’d be a decent guy, but that’s beside the point. Avery tosses her hair over her shoulder and laughs at something he says. God damn it, she’s actually flirting with him. My stomach clenches. He smiles at her, and I have the sudden desire to knock that smile off his face. I grab another beer and down half of it in a single gulp.
Avery
Jase is helping me break free from my shell in ways I didn’t think were possible. I need to thank him for last night. After his little dare gave me the shove I needed, I talked to Mitch for over an hour at the small party. And since Jase got pretty drunk, Mitch even drove me home. I had to give myself a little pep talk, convincing myself that Mitch was a safer choice. That despite my growing feelings for Jase, his reputation and whatever’s still going on between him and Stacia means I need to spread my wings a little. Jase and I are just friends and that is for the best.
I
exchanged contact info with Mitch and we may be going out next weekend. We’ll see if he calls me.
I dress casually in yoga pants and a fitted long-sleeve tee, throw my hair into a ponytail and set off in search of coffee. I pick up an extra cup for Jase, who’s no doubt hung-over this morning
, and begin the twenty-minute walk to his house, just off campus. I sip my coffee, letting the sunlight warm my skin. The leaves are changing, bursting in pretty oranges and shades of gold. I’m struck by the notion that the leaves are evolving just as I am.
I daydream as I walk,
imagining it might be possible to move forward once and for all, when the images of that night creep into my psyche. Me, posing topless for the camera, with a seductive open-mouthed smirk, my hands and mouth on a certain part of Brent’s anatomy, making it obvious who I was and not-at-all obvious who he was. It started off as innocent, and I trusted Brent. Completely. Which was dumb. Beyond dumb. He had a reputation when I met him, but I believed he had changed.
It’s exactly why I need to exercise caution with Jase.
I need to keep him in the friend zone. His belief in me means everything, but anything more will be simply too dangerous. It’s a pity the warning signs flee my mind at the first sight of him.
After knocking at the front door for several minutes, I decide to try the knob, and finding it unlocked, I let myself in. It’s probably a litt
le forward surprising Jase like this. I know he’s probably still sleeping, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to see me, so I put it out of my mind and climb the stairs to his room in the attic.
I knock on his bedroom door and wait.
Nothing. No sounds from inside. I smile at the thought of him curled up in his big bed. I don’t know if I should just go in or what. I tap again. “Jase?”
I hear him curse and then
his heavy footsteps pad across the room. The door opens just a few inches and Jase peeks out at me with bleary eyes. His hair is rumpled and his clothes appear slept in. “Avery?”
“Morning, sunshine. I brought coffee. Can I come in?”
His confused gaze bounces
from the cup of coffee I’m holding back to mine. The look in his eyes is pure panic. Something is very wrong and my insides tingle with the anticipation of bad news. Jase makes no move to open the door any further.
“Jase?”
I question after a heartbeat.
He rakes a hand thoroughly his unruly hair. “Listen, Whistle…you’re not going to be happy, but I promise you, absolutely nothing happened.”
I storm past him into his room and see Stacia stretched out on the small sofa under the window. She’s just waking up, and dressed only in one of Jase’s T-shirts.
My hands are shaking. I set the coffee down on his dresser
so I don’t throw both cups at him. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re not dating, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less pissed that he and Stacia…did whatever they did last night. But I’m the one that left with Mitch last night, what did I expect?
Jase
stops before me, his eyes downcast at his feet.
Stacia stands and stretches, the shirt lifting to show her pink
lacy panties with her movement.
“Stacia, it’s time for you to go,” Jase says
, his voice tight.
She steps into her jeans and tosses her long blond hair over her shoulder. “Chillax,
hun, I’ve gotta pee and then I’ll go.” She crosses the room and heads out into the hall.
Once she’s gone
, Jase takes my hands in his. “I swear to God nothing happened. She got too drunk to drive home last night and I let her crash on the sofa. I didn’t touch her. I promise you.”
He’s still dressed in his clothes from last night – including his belt. If something did happen between them, why would he have dressed in all his clothes again before going to bed
? I don’t know if I should trust him, but I want to.
He’
s still holding my limp hands in his. “It’s fine, Jase. You’re free to do whatever…whoever you want.”
“Okay, I know. I just…I want you to know that things really are over between her and
me, despite what this looks like. I’m not with anybody right now.”
“Fine,” I say. I don’t know whether to be mad at him, myself, or Stacia. There are so many emotions running through my system
– anger, hurt, embarrassment – that I don’t know what to think. For all my supposed caution in getting involved with Jase, I suddenly realize I’ve built up our bond in my head into something it’s not.
Jase pushes his fingers through his thick hair again, cursing himself under his breath.
“She took a bunch of shots and begged me to let her stay. All I did was give her a blanket and leave her up here. She was passed out when I came to bed a couple of hours later.”
My hands are still trembling
. That news conjures up the image of a drunk Stacia hanging all over him, begging him to take her to bed. I don’t think for a second that she accidently drank too much and needed to stay. She’s much too calculated for that. The urge to hit something is barely contained. “You know she does this on purpose, right?” I ask.