"You're nosy and interfering," I say, shaking my head. "You and my mother would get along well."
"That's probably why I like her so much." Sable grins triumphantly. "So I've said my piece. Now I'm going to go hump your roommate."
"Too much information," I call to her retreating figure. "I don't need that image in your head."
"Go get my roommate naked so you have a replacement image in your head."
Well, shit. I wasn't thrilled about this party in the first place. And now Cassie... God, she must think I'm the biggest prick ever.
I take out my phone, and start to text an apology. Fuck. That'll be a lame ass text message.
Grabbing my car keys, I head downstairs instead.
I push my way through the growing crowd, annoyed about all of the people already inside my fucking house. I want some goddamn peace and quiet, not sloppy drunk chicks trying to hang on my arm as I pass. Three of my teammates are standing around in the front room drinking beer and being obnoxious. Someone I don't know is upside-down doing a keg stand.
Dillon yells my name and I keep going. I never liked him to begin with, but since he said that shit about Cassie at the athletic center, he really rubbed me the wrong fucking way.
"Yo, where's the hot tutor?" Dillon yells when he catches up to me.
"There is no hot tutor," I say, ignoring him and heading for the door.
"The chick in the locker room before wasn't your hot little piece of ass?"
I clench my hands into fists. Let it go, I tell myself. I step outside into the humid Texas evening air.
"I think I'll take a turn with her." His slurring voice cuts through the noise behind me, and I turn around, a mixture of anger and adrenaline surging through me.
"I think you'll leave her the fuck alone."
Dillon grins, obviously enjoying pissing me the hell off. "Come on," he eggs me on. "I know you've been hitting that. That girl's lips were made to suck cock."
"She's not like that," I growl. I should walk away. He's trying to rile me up and that's it.
"She looks like she'd know what to do with that tight little pussy —"
I don't let him finish. "She's a virgin, you stupid fuck."
I punch him, square across the jaw. He reels backward, stumbling for a second before he runs at me. The impact knocks me to the ground and he hits me once, but I'm too angry to give a fuck. The only thing I can think about is how much I want to beat his ass into the ground. So I do. I'm on top of him, hitting him, but I only get a couple of punches in before Tank is pulling me off of him.
"Fight's over!" Tank yells. Someone else drags Dillon away from me. When I try to go after him again, Tank blocks me. "You know he's just running his mouth. It's not worth it."
I gulp deep breaths of air, too hopped up on adrenaline to give a fuck about reason. I want to beat his ass, and I want to do it right this second, but people are pulling Dillon back into the house.
"It's over," one of the guys yells.
"It's over," Tank repeats to me. "Go, cool off... Somewhere that's not here."
"Fuck," I yell. I'm amped up and I want to go hit something. Normally that would be the weight room.
Except I don’t go to the weight room. I go to Cassie’s.
22
Cassie
I snuggle up on the sofa, not working on my thesis like I should be. Instead, I give myself a manicure and pedicure and slap Sable's mud mask all over my face. I eat ice cream out of the carton and watch bad reality television. It's cookie dough, my favorite, and it's nice and quiet here. Here there's no loud music, no obnoxious football players, and no topless girls throwing themselves at said obnoxious football players.
I'm not bitter about the non-invite.
Colton is right. What happened was no big deal. Sure, he's hot, but that's it. I hooked up with him and nothing more. In fact, I should hook up with him like crazy. Get him to do the deed, take my virginity. It’s time I got it over with. It'll be like ripping off a bandage, right? No messy feelings and no messy relationship necessary.
Yep, that's a plan.
Totally.
I take another bite of cookie dough.
When I hear the knock on the door, I sigh and get up, ice cream in hand. "Why are you back so early? Bored with Tank already?"
But it's not Sable.
It's Colton.
And I'm standing here in my shitty pajamas. With mud all over my face.
"You," I say, pushing the door halfheartedly closed in his face before heading to the kitchen to get rid of the ice cream. When I turn around, Colton is standing there.
With a purple-blue bruise under his eye.
My eyes fall to his hands, clenched into fists at his side, and I momentarily forget why I'm annoyed with him, taking his hands into mine and turning them around. His knuckles are bloody, his skin torn.
"Did you get in a fight? Or is this from dragging your knuckles on the ground?" I'm only half-joking about the knuckle-dragging caveman quip.