Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)

My eyes popped out. I stopped breathing. No, no, no. That couldn’t happen, especially after hearing Tiffany’s reaction. I couldn’t handle that.

“What?” He pulled back, his mouth in a flat line now. “Why do you freak out like that? You did it the last time too.”

“Come on.”

“Yeah. Come on,” he snapped. “I’m sick of hiding. I’m sick of the sneaking around and picking you up late at night, making sure my roommates are sleeping. I want you to come over so I can study with you during the day and not have to deal with Tiffany always asking. What’s your problem? Are you embarrassed?”

“Yeah, right,” I bit out. “Me, a nobody, being embarrassed at being the campus basketball star’s f**k buddy.”

His hand went to my shoulder and he pushed me against the wall. He bent so he was eye-level. “You are not my f**k buddy. Shit, Alex. You’ve never been. You know that.”

“That first year—”

“That first year nothing. I felt guilty. Ethan hadn’t wanted me to be with you and you were the first thing I did after he died.”

I flushed at the literal meaning behind his statement.

He continued, vehemently, “I’m serious. I’m sorry about that first year, but I was trying to stay away. I was trying to respect your brother’s wishes, but screw Ethan. If he were alive now, he’d know he was wrong. I mean, hell, he knew first hand that being perfect wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. He tried to do everything your parents wanted and when he messed that up—” His eyes widened and he stopped himself, but his chest rose from the effort. He backed away from me, watching me guardedly now.

I was slammed from what he’d said. My parents. Perfection. Ethan messed up. I lunged for Jesse and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” He tried to dislodge himself.

I reversed our positions. He was the one against the wall now, metaphorically and literally. I knew enough. Something had happened. Something my brother had done and somehow it included my parents. “Explain yourself. Now.”

“I can’t.” All fight left him. His tone was soft, defeated. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

“What are you talking about?”

He shook his head. That was all he did.

Agony and long-forgotten grief broke free again. It was sweltering, overwhelming. I couldn’t push it away. The old Ethan was there again. His ghost was next to me, pressing against me, pushing at me. I was being suffocated. I couldn’t get away from him.

“Alex,” Jesse grabbed me. “This isn’t the right time, but to hell with it—” He kissed me.

He continued to kiss me and he transferred us so that I was against the building once again. His hand slipped under my shirt and he cupped my breast. His fingers wrapped around one and he began to caress me. His lips commanded his entrance. Helpless, I opened for him. His tongue swept in and he melted against me. Every inch of him was plastered against me.

Desire battled away the panic. Then my body came awake and I gasped, wrapping my arms around him. One of my legs lifted on its own accord. He caught it and held it up, using the angle to press even more against me.

I felt him between my legs. I knew he wanted me and I began to kiss him back. My fingers unzipped his pants. They went inside and I found him. Gasping, he hissed against my lips, rubbing against my tongue as I began to stroke him. He was already hard. He grew even harder.

“Your room,” he whispered.

I nodded.

Before we left the hideaway, he tried to adjust himself. His shirt was pulled out to cover him and then we slipped from the bushes. As we did, a large group had congregated outside the library’s doors. They spread over the yard and it wasn’t long before the whispers started. Jesse Hunt, seen coming out of the bushes. I knew this would be all over. A few cell phones were raised, but he ignored them. Taking my hand, he led the way towards my dorm. As we went up the back stairs and into my room, the damage was done.

Jesse wanted to go public and we just had, whether I wanted it or not.

But then he locked the door, took me in his arms, and I stopped worrying. For the moment.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It was an hour later when the knock came. As I opened the door, after throwing some clothes on and making Jesse do the same, Beth hurried inside. She closed the door behind, locking it, before turning to us. A cloud of doom was over her.

My gut dropped. I remembered the cell phones. I remembered the whispers. I knew where this was going.

“Hi, I’m Beth.”

Jesse nodded, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. His basketball shorts were on, but no shirt. Her eyes lingered over his broad shoulders and I couldn’t blame her. “Beth.”

“Oh.” She took a deep breath. “It’s all over. You know that, right?”