Page 115 of Scrimmage

I grab her hips and force her down, holding her there while I come. Her eyelids flutter as she rocks back and forth riding it out and milking me. Ashland looks like a goddamn goddess. I keep trying to find ways to hate her, and I’m failing miserably. I prefer her company in more ways than one. We’re both panting when we finish, and she glares at me, moving off and leaning against the pillows next to me. She stares at the TV.

“You got what you came for. Now, leave. Take your brother with you.”

“That’s not why I’m here, Ash.”

“Then why are you?”

I take a deep breath, my jaw tensing. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

She swallows, but keeps her gaze fixed forward. “It’s Cuntsgiving.”

“Which happens to be your fucking birthday.”

“Birthdays are pointless. Everyone makes them a thing, and they’re not. What we should really celebrate is another year of not killing ourselves.”

“Then why did the cake say ‘Glad you’re dead’?”

She rubs her eyes with aggravation. “I shouldn’t have invited you.”

“Why did you?”

“Because…I don’t know. You’re not that bad.”

“Wow, a compliment.”

“Fact, not a compliment.”

“Is that how you get around calling it a compliment?”

“Now you’re being annoying. I’d rather watch Swan Lake.”

“It’s your twenty-first birthday, and you’re just going to bitch about Swan Lake?”

“I’m not twenty-one,” she says mindlessly.

I’m once again confused. “There were twenty-one candles.”

“I’m twenty, alright? Fucking leave it alone.”

I try a different avenue. “Who did Penny call?”

She grabs a pillow, shoves her face into it, and screams. “Shut up. Just shut up Koda. None of this matters. We aren’t even friends. Stop asking me personal questions all of the goddamn time. You came. You saw. You can shut the fuck up.”

The thing is, Ashland isn’t actually mad. She’s irritated and maybe uncomfortable, but she’s not mad.

“I noticed Cole isn’t here.”

“I bet you did. You’re in a constant pissing match with him.”

“That guy?” I snort. “He doesn’t have anything to offer.”

Her face turns pink. I fucking love it. “He’s been getting on my nerves.”

“Why? Because he wants you to be his girlfriend?”

“I don’t really care what he wants.”

I do. I fucking care. “I’m gonna be gone next week. We have a game, then we’re going home for Thanksgiving.”

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