Page 19 of No, For An Answer
“Jesus Christ,” I hate this shit. Why am I even here when I could run into this guy at any other time of the day? The fact I even have to attend this kind of shit just fills me with disgust. I had an idea while getting ready though so it shouldn’t be that boring. Because I’m about to have an entire one-eighty on Jesse. The excitement inside me bubbles up and I fight my hardest to keep that stoic look on my face.
“Not your scene?” I snap to the right and look right into the eyes of Jesse Richmond, head Quarterback, all-American boy, and name number two on my list. I was a little more sold on the idea than I let on, when Mia told me the party was here at Jesse’s frat.
“No, this is fun.” Sarcasm drips from my words. Mindless drones following the same shit no matter what the year.
He snorts into the red cup before taking a sip of whatever alcoholic beverage rests inside. “You don’t do this often, huh?”
“Not at all,” I shake my head. His small talk is awful. “How’s your friend?” I know Marcus isn’t his friend but hey, it’s fun to play stupid. He towers over me, watching as he takes another sip.
“Mybrotheris fine.”
Huh, guess I missed that in my research on him.
“However, he can’t play tomorrow’s game. Heavy bruising in his nether region.”
“Oops,” I chuckle.
“We’ve been telling him for months he needs to wear his guard. Whereas now he will so, I guess… I guess, I should thank you.” He taps my shoulder with the back of his hand.
“For kicking your brother in the dick?”
He’s silent for a beat. “I guess so.”
“You should be fine though.”
“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” he tilts his head playfully, a small wrinkle between his brows. Focusing back on the people in front of me, I have to hide my disgust. They all knew what was going on.
“I dunno, six-foot-three, two-hundred and ten pounds of,” I look back up at him, and clear my throat. Deepening my voice, I recite the stats information I found online. “Lean American muscle with a throwing arm perfect for launching a pigskin from the fifty-yard line.”
Pretending to hold a microphone in my hand, I bring my fist close to my mouth. “This gentleman is a strong NFL prospect folks. Twenty-year-old, Jesse Richmond has the ability to withstand hits and go legits.”
“Stalker,” he says through his laughter. The deep base of the music pumping through the sound system rattles my skeletal structure. What the fuck is with this shit? Jesus Christ. This music really is a crock of shit.
“Nah,” I flick my hand between us. “I was bored.”
“Ouch.” He bends over as though in pain, resting a hand on my shoulder. “And here I thought we were going to be friends.”
“Friends?” I scoff. “Guys like you don’t have girls as friends. The girls that are your friends are the ones you fuck.”
“I’m a good boy, Ashley, I swear,” he holds up three fingers in front of me. “Scouts honour.”
Another laugh. “There’s no way you were a fucking scout.”
“You have a pretty laugh.”
“Oh god,” I groan. “Are you flirting with me? Because if you are it’s weak as shit.” He takes a step forward and now he’s really towering over me. My chest just below his pectoral muscles and I strain to look up at him.
“Nah,” he leans down to me. His lips brushing my earlobe as he speaks, and I have to control every action I have to stop myself from fucking puking at him being this close. “If I was flirting, Ash, I’d tell you that I’d love nothing more than to take you upstairs and strip you out of that perfect little dress and fuck what I’m sure is the tightest pussy I’ve ever had.” In an instant he shoots back up and shrugs. “But I’m not. I just think your laugh is pretty.”
Gross.
“Let’s get you a drink.” I don’t understand how women could find that kind of talk sexy, the only thing it incites within me is disgust. Most women don’t know what he’s capable of. Most women aren’t me. He takes hold of my hand and leads me through the makeshift dancefloor and my hand burns in his grasp. I’m desperate to pull away, to leave and forget this whole thing, but I can’t. I’m here now, I have to see it through.
Stay calm Ashley.
I’m led into the kitchen where the rest of the football team are, Mia’s cheer coach Fire Crotch sits on the kitchen side and the moment she notices Jesse holding my hand, her brows furrow and she begins to whisper in another girl’s ear. Mia turns around from talking to some guy in the kitchen and looks between me and Jesse, eyes widened but brows furrowed.
“When were you two so… friendly?” Mia leans in and whispers, handing me a red cup filled with what I can only assume is beer.
