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The strength of a man! The boy I grew up with is long gone.
Lips that are thin but have that little bit of stubble around them. Being held tight together until he saw me. As I quickly dropped my head, I still had time to see the sides curl up at the sight of me standing there against the fence.
Next to me, all the other players were trash-talking each other, and I couldn’t move because the air I was breathing was gone. Jordan stole it.
I used everything I had to get through meeting them all, and I thought I could cope with a quick drive in the truck with Jordan.
I’m so damn stupid.
Why did I even think I could do this and that it wouldn’t turn to shit? Yet, I did it anyway. It’s like self-punishment. If I’m being truthful, I knew I’d end up kissing him, just not in the first ten minutes of us being alone.
Panicking I pushed him away and his reaction was so different to last time. He was soft and gentle with me and appeared to understand on that first night, the one we never talked about, and I try to pretend it never happened. It makes it easier to sleep at night.
This time, Jordan instantly lashed out at me, and it was totally unexpected.
My defense reacted before I could even rein it in.
Which has led me here.
Standing next to his truck, hearing him breathe while I’m trying to block out the noise of about a hundred people outside this house in front of me.
I mumble under my breath, my words hidden by the loud music already pumping from the speakers, “I’m such an idiot. Why am I here?”
Before I have time to bail out and ask Jordan to take me back to the dorm, leaving me there to wallow in my self-pity, Xavier comes toward us with two red plastic cups in his hand.
Great, if he thinks I’m drinking tonight he has rocks in his head. Mind you, maybe it’s my only way out of this nightmare.
“What took you two so long? Not like the dorm is far from the field.” He shoves the cups in our hands. “Here’s to friendship that will never be broken. Bottoms up!”
“Yeah, the never-ending fucking eternal friendship.” Jordan slams his cup against Xavier’s, and they both look at me to hold mine up.
Jordan might look like he has become a man, but right now, he reminds me of nothing more than the high school boy I remember.
“Yep, just three friends, that’s all we will ever be.” Two can play at this, you jerk.
It all gets to be too much for him and Jordan storms off toward the house.
“What’s up his ass? He should be high on the win and seeing us. Did he say anything to you? Give you any clue what’s got him down?” Xavier links his arm in mine, pulling me toward the back yard.
As Jordan gets closer to the crowd, I hear the giggles and voices of the girls, all getting that little louder and higher-pitched.
Kill me now!
I don’t know what the fuck is in this cup that Xavier has handed me, but lifting it to my lips, I don’t really care. The burn of it going down my throat is enough to tell me that shortly everything will be a little fuzzy, and to be honest, that sounds perfect to me right now.
“Whoa, slow down, Nat. I don’t want you puking everywhere later.” I can tell by the look he’s giving me that my brother is totally confused. I’ve never been one to drink, let alone chug things quickly.
“Stop trying to be the big brother all the time. Aren’t we here to have a good time tonight? You tell me all the time I need to loosen up. So that’s what I’m going to do.” Slipping my arm out of his, I continue through the gate to the backyard where Jordan’s teammates are, and I suck in the biggest breath I can.
Telling myself I need to be brave.
“Yes! Nat is here, come on over, darlin’, and join us. Glad to see you ditched Brandon and his growly mood. What you drinking there, sweetheart?” The guy Jordan called Lonigan takes my empty cup from my hand and puts his arm around my shoulder, squeezing me closer to him. I’m not used to guys who are so forward with someone they don’t know, but I have a feeling he means no harm, and Xavier is still beside me and I know he won’t let anything happen to me. I just need to make sure I stay with the crowd, and everything will be fine.
“What have you got to offer?” The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize my mistake. Never give a group of guys the opening to say what they’re really thinking, especially when ramped up on an adrenaline high, mixed with alcohol.
“A much bigger option than Brandon ever could, let me assure you of that.” Thrusting his hips backward and forward toward his teammates, it gets him the desired attention.
“You wish,” one yells.
