Page 31 of Jace
The one positive thing out of it is that he hired a nanny for most of my youth, Julita. She still cleans my dad’s house, even though she should be retired by now.
Her enchiladas are to kill for, however, and I always make sure to beg her to make me some when she is around.
Wellmadesure is the correct term here, since my dad didn’t bat an eye when I moved out.
I don’t know why I was surprised, why it even ached in the place where my heart used to be, why I even hoped that he would care.
He would never.
Nope. I’m not going there. Kegging it is, for tonight it’s allowed. If there was such a thing as a ‘kegger-pro-license’ than I sure as fuck would have one now.
My abs do feel sticky though, with all the grabby hands that touch me every time my shirt hitches up when I’m upside down. If I wasn't halfway to drunky town and enjoying it, I might have felt violated.
But I don't. Because the guy who last touched me–part of the duo that flipped me upside down–looks handsome and familiarand he can’t seem to stop checking me out. He's the model picture of a jock–all tall and muscly–and while it’s probably not the best idea, I can’t help but bask in the attention. I’m just not in a good place tonight and maybe this is what I need to feelsomething.
To feel wanted.
By anybody really.
“Well hello there,” I greet when he approaches. “I'd love to say something cliché like 'have I seen you here before?' But I know I have, I just can't place it.”
“You wound me,” he says, hand on his heart, sporting a broad, toothy, smile. “I live here,” he continues, pointing to the big house over his shoulder. “You hang out with my roomie, King, quite a bit, right? I've tagged along a couple of times when he's watching you perform at Yetties.”
“Ah,” I rake my brain, shifting through all the people I've met at that table. “Tuck, was it? Or Tucker?”
“Tuck is fine,” he smiles, running a hand through his short blond hair.
He’s hot. Not as hot as Ty, but hot, that’s for sure. What I'm less sure of is if I should take the bait and get my mind off of things for a bit, or if I shouldn’t... I haven’t forgotten about my promise to Missy–and to myself–not to forget that the last time I was with a guy, it ended veryverybadly.
But fuck… It can be just some dumb fun to clear my head for a bit right? Even if it’s not the football player that I’m lusting after. At least this one isn’t straight.
His heated gaze roams my face again. “Want to head to the kitchen, have a beer?”
“Just for a beer,” I reply with a smile, trying to be smart about this. I'm aware of what can happen if I step into the house with him. He lives here, and a quiet bedroom is within reach. But Ican at least try to have a drink first, see if he might be someone I'd consider dating.
Well, that’s what my brain cells who are still somewhat sober are telling me.
The other half which is buzzed, mad at Lord Voldemort and screams for attention, is considering to just skip the drink and fuck Tuck’s brains out upstairs.
But again; probably not the best idea.
Tuck takes my answer as an invitation though, grabbing my hand and leading me back towards the house. He shoots me smiling glances over his shoulder, navigating the crowd with ease as people step aside for one of their football heroes.
I take in his broad frame, clad in a red shirt, and yeah, I can definitely get used to these football players. I’m a tall guy myself, and I’m not by any means puny, but these dudes sure have defeated me in the muscle department. And I love it.
But before we’re even on the porch’s steps, Missy intervenes, blocking our path, hands in her sides, looking all feisty.
“There the fuck you are! We need to get on stage, I’ve been searching for you everywhere.”
“Do you really think these people care if we're on time?” I gesture to the drunken, dancing crowd.
“I don’t care if they care,Icare. So get your ass up there. Sorry, Tuck, you’ll have to wait a bit before you can ravish my singer.”
Tuck just smiles. “I don't mind, I love watching you guys play.” Still holding my hand, he pulls me forward, and I almost stumble into the body I was admiring earlier. “Especially you,” he adds softly. “I'll grab us some beers, like I said, and meet you after?”
““Deal.” I smile at him. Maybe I'm not up for a hookup just yet, or maybe I am, but a drink might be a good idea to start with. Like Ty said that day on the beach; I should try to get to know someone better before ending up in bed with them.
With a wave goodbye, I follow Missy to the makeshift stage on the porch, a clever setup that elevates us above the yard crowd, giving the feeling of a real gig.
