Stupid Girl

by Cindy Miles

  And that pissed me off even more. Made me curious. And that grin on his face? Made me want to drag his sorry hillbilly ass behind the dumpsters there and beat the living fuck out of him.

  I stared at him through my shades, just long enough to let him know that I thought he was a prick. A silent challenge between two dudes. I didn’t say a word, just looked, and took inventory. Rich pretty boy, that much was obvious. Pricey clothes and a ride he probably didn’t have to pay for. My height, maybe my weight. But no fuckin’ backbone. Well, except when it came to intimidating girls. He got off on that. Pussy.

  Finally, he ducked his head, climbed into that ass truck and took off.

  “Brax, can we go now?”

  Her voice shook a little, even though she tried to steady it. She stood next to me, still as a goddamn statue, waiting for my answer. When I looked down at her, with those wide soft eyes of hers staring back at me, I was reminded of what a douchebag I truly was. What in the hell was I doing with her? What in the goddamn hell? Sweet and innocent, with her little freckled nose, flawless skin and full mouth made for hours of slow kissing. Not fast like the first one I’d taken from her. Christ, I’d thought about nothing else since. That white scar in her lip was fuckin’ sexy as hell. I took advantage of my shades and just stared at her. Innocent, but … not. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about her, something she was hiding. Naïve, maybe a little, but she wasn’t stupid. Far from it. Yet I felt protective over her for some reason, and that shocked the hell out of me. Kenny about lost his goddamn hand, just for touching her hair. It’d made her more than uncomfortable. And it’d scared her. The thought of Kenny or that rich idiot or anyone else bothering her boiled my fuckin’ blood.

  That thought made me take one last long look at Gracie Beaumont’s questioning face. I’d introduced her to the guys as Olivia because Gracie was my name for her. I didn’t want anyone else to call her that. Just me. I stared at her through my shades. Her head tilted toward the sun, her skin was the color of honey; healthy and alive. She’d trusted my sorry ass enough to climb on my bike and leave the school. Part of me felt lucky that she’d given me that trust, because I got the feeling she didn’t hand that out too much. The other part of me, and the larger part? Felt like a bum. A goddamn bastard bum.

  But hey—who was I? Who the fuck was I? I’d only just slammed into her the day before. And she’d never know what an unlucky meeting that was. For her, not me. Not until it was too late. So I guess it really didn’t matter what I was doing with her now ’cause I was doing it regardless, bastard that I was. Regrets were a bitch, and I’d worry about them later. I could no more control my selfish streak than I could my Southie mouth. Regrets? Hell yeah, I’d have them. No doubt. But I could tell something about Gracie Beaumont. She was strong. Kick ass strong. And that, for some reason, made my regrets suck a little more. And retreat a little more, to a place far in the back corner of my fucked up mind. But like I said. I’d worry about that later.

  Finally, I flashed a slow smile and reached to tighten her chin strap. Her long thick braid rested over her shoulder, and I picked it up. It felt smooth and heavy between my fingers. I pushed it aside, and just as I did the thought of kissing her mindless when we got to the dorm entered my head. That could wait. But not for long. “Sure thing, Gracie.” I straddled my bike. “Hop on.”

  Gracie’s lean body slid behind me, and her small hands timidly rested on my hips. Like before, I reached back and grabbed her arms, pulling them tightly around my stomach. I held them in place with my hand, just in case she had thoughts of pulling them back. Funny. I was used to chicks grabbing my crotch while we rode. There was something to be said about Gracie’s shy touch, though. Different. Yeah, I liked her holding onto me this way.

  “Thank you, Brax.” She said this quietly, close to my ear, before I pulled on my helmet. Her breath was soft against my neck, and her body pressed against my back.

  For a split second, I closed my eyes. Jesus Christ, Jenkins, you are a grade-A bastard. Far worse than that prick with the hillbilly pick-up. You sure you got the stomach for this?

  I had to actually take a deep breath in and think about it. Could I? Stomach it? I was in it now, with no fucking choice but to go forward. Gracie’s trusting words of thanks stuck in me like a fucking knife. Dug deep into my gut. I shook it the fuck off and opened my eyes. Pulled on my helmet. Started the bike. Felt her arms squeeze tighter against me as we sped out of the parking lot. And I liked it. Fuck, maybe I’d just bang her and get it out of my system. Get her out of my system. I could convince her. Might take some time, but I could.

  By the time we made it back to Winston, the last rays of sunlight streaked purple and gray across the sky. That’s one thing I liked about Texas versus Boston. The sky. Here, it was a vast blanket of a million different things, day and night, stars and sun and storm clouds. Back home, only holes of it skewered through the tall brick and concrete structures of the city. All except the harbor, anyway. That was the place to go to see more than just circles and holes, and I’d hung out there a lot as a kid. Yeah, I missed the harbor all right. Missed a lot of things. Didn’t miss a lot of things, too, that’s for damn sure.

  I cruised through the campus streets, and every time I rolled over a speed bump, I goosed the engine, causing Gracie’s head to bump into the back of mine. Crack, her helmet smacked against my helmet. Goose. Crack. Goose. Crack.

  “Brax,” she said, and softly punched my arm. There was laughter in her voice, though, and it made me smile. Almost laugh. Just like a goddamn kid. I pulled up at the walkway leading to her dorm and stopped the bike. Before I killed the engine, she’d thrown her leg over the seat and was standing there, and I watched her long nimble fingers loosen the chin strap. When she pulled the helmet off, that wild thick braid fell out and over her shoulder. Why it fascinated me, I had no clue. But it did. It damn sure did.

  “Thanks for dinner,” Gracie said. Her voice had the perfect female pitch, and her Texas drawl was soft and easy on the ear. I liked it. “And for helping me unload my stuff.” The smile on her mouth came hesitantly, and it was really just barely there, and she couldn’t quite meet my eye. “And for showing me the back route to the observatory.” A nighttime breeze had kicked up, and it brushed over her face and a loose strand of hair caught on her lip. She ignored it. Hell if I could. I reached over and gently knocked it loose.

  Another embarrassed grin pulled at her mouth, probably because I was staring at her like some lunatic, and her gaze shot to the grass between her feet. It was cute as hell. “You’re welcome,” I told her. “Least I could do for knockin’ the wind out of you yesterday.” Wasn’t going to apologize for the kiss, though. I’d already told her that.

  “True,” Gracie agreed. She gave a quick girl’s laugh that sounded different from any other I’d heard. I liked it. She glanced over her shoulder then, toward her dorm, and kinda jerked her thumb in that direction. “Well, I’d better get going.” She waved, turned and began walking, then looked back at me. The movement made that long braid of hers slide over her shoulder and fall down the middle of her back. “I’ll see ya around, Brax.”

  “Yeah, you will,” I answered, and another slow smile caught my lips and pulled. I slipped my shades off to better watch her, and hell. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Not off that braid. Not off that ass. Not off those long legs. Not until she’d slid her dorm card through and pushed into the common room. She didn’t turn around again, yet I still sat there, straddling my bike, staring.

  My cell vibrated against my thigh. I grabbed it, tapped the screen, and raised it to my ear. “What’s up, man?”

  Cory Maxwell cleared his throat on the other line. First baseman for the Silverbacks, he was probably my closest friend at Winston. “Your presence is required at the house of awesomeness, dick wad.”

  I shook my head. “Of course it is.” Tapping the screen, I disconnected just as Cory was about to say something else. With a final glance at Gracie
’s dorm, I slid my shades over my eyes and started the bike. The engine rumbled as I headed toward the frat house.

  Cars crammed the yard and parking spaces, and people drifted in and out of the front entrance. Another party, more booze-filled sorority girls and liquored-up jack fucks littering my living space. Freshmen year, yeah, I thought it was a blast. Partied every chance I got, game or no game. I took a goddamned whipping. Now? Over it. Bored. Sick as shit of it.

  Yet, my presence was required. Silverbacks superstar pitcher. Badass Southie.

  Not a single soul here really knew me. Besides Cory, anyway. Didn’t know a single fucking personal thing about me. Assumed plenty. Like I was some sideshow carnie freak or something.

  Gracie knew me, though. Not much, but more than these clowns, and I’d known them for over a year. Most were ball players, their girls, and random girls trying to hook up with ball players. The idea came fast to me that Gracie wouldn’t fit in here, with these people, in this atmosphere. That thought, and how easily Gracie had slipped into it, took me off guard. Made me even more curious about her. About myself. What the hell?

  I walked in and everyone yelled and clapped. Slapped me on the back and congratulated me on the game as if I’d single-handedly won it. A cold bottle was pushed into my hand. This, I was used to. It’d been my life for over a year. I’d liked it. A lot.

  “Jenks, you asshole, that was some fine sick pitching today, son!” Cory said from one of the sofas in the common room. I sank into the cushion next to him.

  Lifting the bottle to my mouth, I let the lager flow down my throat. I grinned, and raised the brew. “I know that.” Everyone laughed as my gaze settled on most of my teammates, some on the floor, others draped over the furniture. Their girls draped over them. Same faces, same scenario. Different day.

  A heavy body flopped down beside me, and I didn’t have to look to know it was Josh Collins. I could smell his chewing tobacco. Third baseman and a junior, he was a fellow Kappa Phi brother from Austin. And a dick of many things. But he was a good third baseman and that was the only decent thing I could say about the guy.

  Josh leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. His gaze remained straight ahead. “So.” His drawl was long and irritating as hell. “How’d your date go?”

  I took another pull on my lager. “It went.”

  Josh’s shoulders shook as he laughed silently. “Yeah, I bet it did.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “Kenny said she wears a fucking wedding ring. Priceless.”

  I took my time on the second pull of beer before answering. “Kenny says he fucks your sister, too. You believe everything he says?”

  Anger rolled over his face like a wave, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I took another swallow. Collins hated shit being said about his sister. Might be the only other redeeming quality the fuck wad had.

  “Well, what the hell is it, Jenks?” Josh pushed.

  I gave a casual shrug. “It’s just something to keep pricks like you away, Collins.” I lifted a brow. “Why do you care?”

  Josh’s lips pulled back and he grinned a gap-toothed smile, one only his mother could love. “Just curious, is all.” He winked and punched my arm. “It’ll make this semester’s dare a little more interesting, huh, big guy?”

  My gaze hardened as I looked at him. “Choose another one, Collins. She’s not dare material.”

  Josh’s teeth showed, and I fixed on that big gap in the middle. I wanted to make it wider. “Trust me. She really, really is.” He pushed up, stood. “Totally opposite of you, that’s for fuckin’ sure. Besides, Jenks. You chose her. Remember? Picked her out the second we rounded the corner and saw her crossing the lawn. Anyway.” He smiled. “It’s just all good college fun. She’ll get over it and you. Probably laugh about it later on.” He headed to the kitchen, stopped and turned back. “Good pitchin’ today, son.” He nodded, then ducked into the other room.

  The music thumped against the walls, some random local country rap band, and the smell of beer and sweat filled the common room. It made the inside of my skull ache, and I pushed my temples in with my thumbs. Goddamn, Collins was right. I had picked her. Honest to Christ, it’d been sheer impulse. Gracie had caught my eye the moment she’d pulled up in the parking lot, wearing that cute fucking hat and driving that old tank of a pick-up. I knew she was tough the second I’d laid eyes on her, and that had initially drawn me in. Now? Jesus H. Christ, I’d only been out with her once. Seen a piece of who she really was. And I liked what I saw. Even the part she tried so hard to hide I liked, and it made me want to find out more. Which made me an even bigger prick than Collins because the only way to get Gracie out of this now was to come clean with her. I didn’t know her well—not at all, actually, since we’d just met. But one thing I did know for a fact: She’d tell me, my fraternity and the semester dare to go straight to fucking hell. And to be selfishly honest, I just wasn’t ready to give her up yet.

  I stood, tossing my bottle across the room and into the trash can by the kitchen. I’d had enough bullshit chatter and drunken laughter and was headed to my room when fingers closed around my wrist. When I turned I was surprised to see the blonde from the Chowder House, staring at me with a vixen smile and a mile of cleavage popping out of her shirt. Blouse. That word and that thought of Gracie made me smile, probably giving Blondie the wrong idea as she pushed closer, and her hand crept up my arm.

  “I knew if I asked around I’d find you,” she said. She slid her body against mine, and I felt her breast brush my elbow. “You’re kinda hard to miss. Not too many guys look like you. Where ya goin’?”

  I looked at her. Any other given day I would have given her a panty-dropper smile and said wherever you’re goin’, sweetheart. She was hot. Stacked. A little drunk. And more than willing. Any man’s dream.

  I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t interested. Yeah, I’d flirted a little at the restaurant, but that’d been for Gracie’s sake. I’d wanted her to feel at ease with me, not so guarded. I didn’t want to bang this drunk chick. I wanted to hole up in my room for the night, maybe send Gracie a text.

  Text instead of sex. Sometime since yesterday I’d lost my fucking mind.

  “Not tonight, sweetheart,” I said, and gently pushed the girl’s hands away.

  She pouted her lips out and crossed her arms over her breasts. “But I drove all the way here.” I looked down at them. Yeah, I’d lost my fucking mind all right.

  “Well, why don’t you go say hi to Josh Collins over there,” I said, and turned her in that direction, and pointed. “Big guy, Silverbacks cap on backward standing against the wall? Tell him I sent you over, yeah?”

  The girl stared at Josh, turned, gave me a playful, if not drunken slap on the chest, and waved. “Okay, I’ll let you slide by this time. But just this once.” She sauntered off and made her way to Josh, who looked over her head and gave a nod of approval. That guy’s dick would rot off before graduation. But most said the same thing about mine. The difference was I knew Josh. His probably really would.

  I made my way to the stairs and took them two at a time, reaching the second floor and my room without anyone else stopping me to talk game, sex, or beer. A fucking miracle. I locked the door, kicked off my boots, yanked off my jacket and pulled my tee shirt over my head. Then I grabbed my cell from the front pocket of my jeans and flopped onto my bed. I settled into the unmade covers and lay there in the dark, and the fluorescent light from my cell screen glared in my eyes. I tapped Gracie’s name and typed.

  Me: Stop layin there thinking about me. You’ve got class in the mornin. Priorities, Sunshine.

  I set my cell on my chest and stared in the dark at the ceiling. I couldn’t believe I’d slammed into her then … kissed her. When I’d told her it was spontaneous, that was the damn truth. I don’t know … I’d looked down at her, had pushed that hat off her face and … I just couldn’t fucking help myself. She’d tasted sweet. Warm. And it’d been too damn short of a kiss. It wasn’t the first time in my
life I’d been compelled to kiss a total stranger. So why had it affected me the most?

  My phone vibrated, and I lifted it. Just seeing her name on the screen made me smile like an idiot. Jesus, what had this quiet cowgirl with secrets done to me already? Should’ve snuck a pic of her earlier. Maybe she’d send me one. I blinked and read her text.

  Gracie: My priorities are in order, thank you very much. I was just getting ready for bed. Haven’t you had enough of me for one night?

  Me: Hardly. So tell me what spooked you in the restaurant, Gracie.

  No one had ever accused me of being subtle. I just always found it better to get to the point, whether I’d known you ten years or one day. And the point was, whatever happened at the restaurant with Gracie bothered the hell out of me, and I wanted to know what was up. I waited, and thought maybe she wouldn’t answer me. Then, she did.

  Gracie: You’re very pushy for a virtual stranger. Nothing spooked me. I was embarrassed by the enormous amount of soda that drowned me. Then I got a little dizzy in the bathroom. That’s all. But thank you for your concern.

  Me: You didn’t look dizzy, Gracie. You looked scared shitless.

  Gracie: Quite an imagination you got there, Southie. I kneed your family jewels within seconds of meeting you. Not the reaction of your average scaredy cat. Do you show this kind of heroic concern with all the girls?

  Me: Guess you bring it out in me. Maybe you’re tougher than you look but I doubt it. Guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you, Gracie.