"Shut up, Drew," Beth shouts. "I'm being serious here, for real. I always knew that if you found a girl you really liked, the whole player thing would go out the window."
"No one's talking about finding a girl I like or about ditching the whole player thing," I protest. "I'm twenty-one. And I'll go pro next year. Everything's going to change. I'm not in a relationship. I'm going to be a ba-jillionaire and fuck a thousand models in my big-ass mansion on top of my piles of money."
"Don't be a jackass," Beth says.
"You two are the jackasses hassling me about a girlfriend," I protest.
I'm edgy and irritable at Beth's suggestion that I've somehow fallen for Cassie. Just because she's the only girl I want to sleep with doesn't mean this is going to last forever.
"I'm just saying that you're soft on her," Beth says. "That's not a bad thing. You're a good guy at heart, Colton. You just don't want to admit it."
"I'm hanging up now."
30
Cassie
"Another A."
I jump at the sound of Colton's voice behind me, my heart skipping more than a few beats. "Shit, Colton," I breathe, whirling around and slapping him hard on the chest. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I almost dropped my groceries."
"I'm trying to collect my reward for hard work," he says, lifting bags from my hands. I turn around and manage to put the key in the apartment door before he grips my hip with one hand and pulls me against his cock for emphasis.
As if I weren't already clear on what he meant by reward.
"Cut it out! Someone is going to see you," I hiss, even though when I look around I can see clearly that the hallway is deserted. I swat Colton's hands off my hips, but he doesn't let go, spinning me around the second we get through the door and pressing me hard up against the wall. My body responds immediately to him, the way it always does, my breath hitching in my throat and warmth coursing through me, radiating to my core.
"Reward me, Teach," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. He kisses me just under my earlobe — the most sensitive place on my neck – and his teeth drag across my skin as he kisses his way lower.
"Were you just sitting outside my apartment in the dark waiting for me, you creep?" I ask, hardly able to get the question out as he runs his hands over my breasts.
"Maybe I was. With binoculars," he adds. His hand runs up the inside of my thigh and straight to its destination between my legs. "Where are you coming back from in this little skirt? You have a little bit of a Catholic schoolgirl thing going on in this outfit, you know."
"You just can't get over the Catholic schoolgirl thing, can you?"
"Of course not," he moans.
"Would it help if I actually bought a plaid skirt?"
"Oh, fuck yeah. If you text me and tell me you're wearing a little plaid skirt, I'll be like this all day."
He pushes his hardness against my leg.
"You're like that normally."
"I'll be even harder," he promises.
"Impossible."
"Feel how hard I am since I haven't seen you all day?" He yanks my skirt up around my waist and cups my ass with his hands, lifting me up against the wall and – "Fuck, man." Tank's booming bass voice reverberates through the apartment.
"Shit, Colton," I squeal, pulling down my skirt.
Sable follows Tank out of her room wearing his football jersey, her hair in pigtails and carrying pom-poms. "The wall by the door?" Sable asks. "That's so cute. We did it there yesterday."
Sable stands with her pom-pom-carrying hand on her hip. When she juts her hip out to the side and cocks her head at us the way she does, she looks remarkably like a high school cheerleader.
"Thanks a lot for that image," Colton says. "I'll have to bleach my brain now."
"Dude, your brain? I just saw you with my roommate's skirt all hiked up," Sable says. "I'm pretty sure I could see her muff. I'm glad you got waxed, by the way, Cassie."
"I'm wearing underwear," I protest. "You could not see my muff. You only know I got waxed because you dragged me to your waxer." I smooth my hands over my skirt and fluff my hair.
Like a respectable lady.
"Should have hung a sock on the door," Tank grunts, shaking his head. "I told you."
"Is that still a thing?" Colton asks. He's standing there with an obvious hard-on, asking that question like we're all having a normal conversation and my roommate didn't just catch us very nearly fucking against the wall.
"I think it's a thing," Sable says.
"It's definitely a thing," Tank agrees firmly.
"Should we play cheerleader at your place, Jonathan?" Sable asks, twirling one pigtail around her finger.
"No, no, no. We'll leave." I pick up my bags of groceries from the floor and hand them to Sable. "You put these away. We'll give you some privacy."
"Sweet," Tank says, taking the bags right out of Sable's hands and peering inside.
"I'm going to need to get more groceries, aren't I?" I ask Colton once we're outside the door.
"Yeah, I'm afraid you should just assume that Tank has eaten whatever's in those bags," Colton says. "Unless it's that low-fat bullshit. Then you might be safe."