I stopped on the last riser, scanned the party. Down the hall, I saw Zeb in the same spot in the kitchen although the people surrounding him were different. It seemed he didn’t have to mingle. Everyone came to him.
Someone stopped right in front of me, so I shifted, thinking they wanted to go upstairs.
“Sorry, I–”
The words died in my mouth when I saw who it was. The guy from the game who’d been selling drugs. Or whatever it was.
He had dark hair, equally dark eyes and skin remarkably pale for someone who played sports outside. He was solidly built, but nothing like Zeb. Still, he was imposing to me and I was glad I was close to his height standing on the first step.
“Fucking Wilder isn’t gonna keep me from hurting you if you tell anyone what you saw.”
I blinked, then fear took hold. He was close, his face close enough where he could kiss me. Except, I didn’t want to kiss him. I pivoted, pressed against the wall.
“I didn’t–”
“You did. I know who you are. Know how to find out where you live.”
I swallowed hard. My heart galloped and my fingers tingled.
“Yo, Trout, step back from my girl.”
Zeb. Thank God.
This guy’s name was Trout? A stupid name for a scary guy.
“We were just having a little chat, weren’t we?” Trout said, his voice full of menace.
Zeb’s gaze narrowed as he looked at me. “What the fuck’s going on? My girl looks like she’s ready to piss her pants.”
That was a very specific description of my fear, but even though I just went, it was definitely possible.
“She was telling me she saw me earlier. I told her, no way. I’dneverforget a face like hers.”
I could stay quiet about whatever illegal shit he was doing. I didn’t care. I really didn’t. I hadn’t even thought about it since Zeb came out of the locker room. He was the one bringing it up. “I’d never forget what you were doing either,” I countered.
“What were you doing?” Zeb asked, eyes narrowed.
Someone bumped into the back of him walking by, but Zeb ignored him.
“Nothing, bro,” Trout said. “Just ran into a friendoutside the locker room. Your girl needs her prescription changed on her glasses if she thinks she saw anything.”
“But–” I was going to say it was nothing, but Trout cut me off.
“You believe her or me, the guy who caught the winning ball today?” Trout asked.
Zeb studied him. I held my breath. Zeb gave him a small smile, raised his hand for a bro high five. “Perfect catch. Need to do that again next weekend against State.”
Trout grinned, gave me a look that said I might be Zeb’s girl, but I’d come second to the team. Trout walked off, raised his beer in the air, shouted something and half the partyers shouted it back. I didn’t pay attention to what it was, only stared at Zeb.
The guy who didn’t want to hear what I had to say. Who believed the lies his teammate spewed. Who said I needed new glasses. I saw what I saw and now that I knew the guy’s true nature, he was a piece of shit. He’d throw me under the bus to save himself.
And all Zeb had done was high five him because Trout had been the guy who’d caught Zeb’s perfect throw. Who’d scored the winning touchdown. Who got the win for the college.
The jerk was an asset to the team. Zeb could havethe best throwing arm in the world, but someone had to catch the ball. And that guy was a dick drug dealer.
Who Zeb stood behind. Not me. The guy who said I was his. Who’d claimed me with his sweatshirt. And his cum.
Thank God we hadn’t had sex. Obviously, I’d been dick dazzled. Caught up in Rose and the other girls’ excitement over a big, famous football player being into me.
