Misadventures of a Rookie

by Toni Aleo

  “You are lying!” Maci called out. “What? Did you not go for a guy?”

  I scoffed at that. “No. No dude would hold me back from my dreams like that. It wasn’t that. Really, I didn’t get in.”

  “No, you did. You’re smart. Like, übersmart. Isn’t she the top of the class?” Shania asked, and everyone nodded. “Yeah, way too smart for our little PT school.”

  “Hey, I love our PT school.”

  “We do too,” Lizzy said, but then she held her finger out, pointing it at me. “But I also know you would’ve gone to Stanford if you could have, so spill it. Everyone else has, so you have to also.”

  I started to sputter, unsure what to say, because there was no way I would admit why I didn’t go to Stanford. Everyone’s eyes were on me. I felt my skin prickle with sweat, and I wanted to run. I hadn’t told anyone why I moved here. Why I ran away from home and from my dream of being a doctor. I couldn’t. My secrets were embarrassing and pitiful.

  I was a pathetic excuse for a human being according to some people—especially my parents.

  Before I could try another lie, we were interrupted. “Listen…”

  My anxiety went through the roof. I was panicking under the stress of the conversation, the emotions of what I’d been through and what I was trying to move past, and when my gaze met his, I couldn’t breathe. “You.”

  He waved awkwardly, and for the first time, Gus looked unsure of himself. That moment of vulnerability on his strong features was sort of hot. “Yeah, me.”

  He was so close, only inches away, and I swore I could feel the heat from his large body. Before he could go on, I was off my bar stool, pushing it between us. “What do you want?”

  “I want to talk to you. I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”

  I laughed but without humor, a nervous tone in my voice. “We haven’t gotten off on any foot. There is no need for a foot. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  He paused, and I heard some of the girls gasp behind me. Apparently these girls never rejected Gus. Well, I wasn’t like them, and I was pretty sure I made that clear.

  “See,” he said. “I don’t understand that. Please, explain.”

  I glared. Usually, I’d walk away. Especially since I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. But I guess the alcohol and anxiety were burning hot in my veins, because soon I was leaning on the chair, holding his gaze. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. You’re nothing to me.”

  He pointed to me. “See? What is that hostility?”

  I glared. “There is none.” Well, of course there was. “I don’t want to talk to you, but since I’m pretty sure you won’t leave me alone—”

  “Oh, good. This is killing me, and the fact that I don’t know your name is really bothering me. So please spill.”

  “Can I speak?”

  He nodded, his eyes narrowed. “Go right ahead, but tell me your name first. And are you from Minnesota? You have that very Minnesota tone.”

  The girls giggled behind me. I was pretty sure he was making fun of my accent.

  Asshole.

  “I’ll never tell you my name, and that’s that,” I snapped, shaking my head. “And what makes you think I’m from Minnesota?”

  He grinned, his teeth so white and so straight. Probably fake. “The way you say Minnesooooota.”

  I glared, and he kept on grinning.

  “So why don’t we just add your name in there, and we can be on good terms?”

  “We will never be on good terms.”

  “We will.”

  “Never,” I grated. “Because I don’t want anything to do with you. You are not the kind of guy I want to be around.”

  “You don’t even know me!” The look on his face, one that probably meant he was serious, had me laughing.

  “Oh, I know you fine and well,” I decided.

  “You do not.”

  “I do too!” I hollered back, and yes, I realized we sounded like two kids, but I didn’t care. “Just go away.”

  “No, you claim to know me,” he said, his voice stern. He got closer, leaning into the bar, his face right in line with mine. So close I could see the stubble on his jaw and a little cut along his lip that was new and fresh. I wanted to touch it. I wasn’t sure why, probably because I was drunk, but soon I forgot all about that as he whispered, “So tell me, redhead, who am I?”

  “Who are you?” I asked, my eyes darkening as I leaned in. “Well, let me tell you.”

  Chapter Five

  Gus

  Redhead’s eyes were blazing blue. So bright, almost like crystals, as she glared back at me. She was fire hot, and fuck, I wanted to kiss that pouty mouth of hers. Or even the space between her eyes that was full of angry wrinkles but so damn hot. She looked so annoyed, and I must say, I was really digging the splotches of color along her face. I wondered if they were all over her. I liked how she looked at me. I bet she really thought she was acting out of anger or even hatred, but I knew it was out of lust. I just needed to make her realize it.

  And then, right to bed we’d go.

  But before that could happen, she obviously had something to say. Her lips were trembling and her body was shaking as she glared up at me. I wanted to laugh, I did, but I was pretty sure she would hit me.

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted that or not…

  “Bet you grew up in one of those big fancy houses with the built-in rink in the back yard that your daddy spent hours on. I bet you had a car by fifteen—and not some beater car. You had a Camaro or, better yet, a Lexus. You never had to beg for a girl’s attention, ever. You had the girls doing your homework every day, and the teacher’s assistant made sure you got the answer key so you could memorize it.” She paused, her eyes full of fire.

  I couldn’t disagree with her. She was hitting every nail on the head. With more force than I expected.

  “You were idolized as a kid. The star player. Everyone loved you. You were treated like a god, and you let it go to your head because why wouldn’t you? Everyone loved you, everyone wanted to have sex with you because you’re Gus Persson, and everyone wanted a piece. Then you come here, again the star, even if you think you should have gone straight to the Tornadoes. So to make sure everyone knew they made a mistake, you start playing super hard here, just to keep the idolization going. You’re obnoxious so people see you, hear you. Because you love the attention. You yearn for it. But I’m here to tell you, Gus Persson, you’ll never get it from me. Ever.”

  Swallowing hard, I kept my eyes on her, and soon I realized we were both breathing hard. Her little speech hit home on many levels. Maybe she did know me, and I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. No, I did… It turned me the fuck on. The way her breasts were rising and falling with each breath, the wild in her eyes, and those lips in that pout—it was deadly. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to touch her. Fuck, I wanted her, but to keep from doing that, I crossed my arms, clicking my tongue as I held her gaze. “You got me all figured out, huh?”

  “Yes,” she somehow got out before taking a step back, probably thinking the distance would halt what was brewing between us. “And I know all you want is to fuck me and nothing else. I won’t be another little mark on your hockey stick, big boy. I deserve more than that.”

  The girls behind her all looked away, embarrassed. I could hear my friends laughing and razzing me, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered at that moment but her. I didn’t even know her name—didn’t know anything, really—but I wanted to know it all. And then some. If she thought I didn’t see her reinforce herself against the table to keep from falling over, I did, and that meant one thing.

  I affected her.

  I didn’t have to be obnoxious or cocky to see that.

  With a tip of my lips, I asked, “So now it’s my turn, right?”

  Her brows came in, her eyes darkening as she looked up at me. “Huh?”

  “My turn,” I said once more, this time pressing my elbows into the chair so that w
e were eye-to-eye. “I bet you are super smart, one of those girls who fights for female rights, but not like the real feminists. Like a wannabe one. You make sure to shave and make sure you smell right. I bet you never share anything on Facebook about ‘the fight for women’ because you don’t want the attention. You want to fly under the radar and keep everyone away. You were more than likely hurt by someone who you assume is just like me. Do I look like him? Is that the problem? Did he dump you for the cheerleader because you were too smart?”

  “Fuck you,” she sneered.

  I beamed. “We’ll get there,” I say. “See, the thing is, No Name Nancy, it doesn’t matter, because no matter how much you say you don’t like me because of my upbringing or my amazing skills on the ice or even because I look like the dude who fucked you over—you do like me. A lot. You think about me more than you should. You yearn for my touch because you want to know what it feels like. You don’t want to. You hate it, which in turn makes you hate me. But sweetheart, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let me touch you.”

  I reached out, trying to cup her shoulders, but she moved.

  “Over my dead body.”

  That makes me laugh. “See, more of that ‘I have to say no to keep my word,’ when really, all you want to do is scream yes while I’m deep inside you.”

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t seem shocked as she pushed the stool away, making me stand so that she could go toe-to-toe with me. With a tip of her chin, her eyes ever so dark, she mocked, “Then take me.”

  Huh? “What?”

  “Take me, right here, if I want it. Take it. Fuck me against every surface in this bar. Show me how much I want it,” she demanded, her eyes sparkling with the challenge. Wow, what a turn of events we had here.

  But I wasn’t that stupid.

  “So you can kick me in the junk and claim assault? Yeah, right. I haven’t been hit in the head that many times, honey.” I moved in closer. Fuck, I think the world might have stopped when she took in a breath.

  Gasping a bit, she looked up at me. “I wouldn’t. I’m asking for it.”

  “So you’re telling me you are?”

  She took in another breath, her chin high and challenge in her eyes. She was convinced I wouldn’t do it. “I am ’cause I know you won’t do it.”

  “I won’t?” I asked, my voice husky and all kinds of wrong. My whole body was burning, and I wanted more than anything to do what she asked, but I couldn’t. Not yet. “How do you know?”

  “Because I bet you can’t even get it up. You’d probably break under the pressure of everyone seeing.”

  Oh, she was funny. Laughing, I shook my head. “I never snap under pressure. Ever.”

  “Says the guy who is just standing there, staring at me.”

  “I don’t even know your name. I like to know a lady’s name before I fuck her.”

  That surprised her but only for a second before her swag came back. “You do? I never would have suspected that. But I did suspect you’d do nothing, because you aren’t the guy you want everyone to believe you are. You want the attention, you thrive off it, but when it comes to a woman who could actually challenge you, you snap like a twig. You aren’t made for the real connection. You’re made for the fake fuck. And until you figure that out, you’ll be alone and pathetic, fucking everyone you see.”

  Wow. Why did that annoy me? “You don’t know shit.”

  She feigned innocence. “I don’t?”

  She was driving me insane, and before I could think or stop myself, I took her face in my hands. She smelled like heaven, and I felt like I was at the pearly gates right as my lips touched hers. They were so thick, like honey, and tasted just as sweet. I could hear commotion around us, but then I couldn’t. I was too focused on her lips and the feel of her sweet cheeks against my hands. It was mind-blowing. I wasn’t one to assume a kiss could rock my world, but then again, according to this chick, I was going to be alone for the rest of my life.

  The kiss was over before it could really get started as she whipped back, her eyes wide as she yelled, “How dare you!”

  With a smug grin, I said, “You said I wouldn’t. Guess you were wrong.”

  Flabbergasted, she backed away, and when she started to shake her fist, I had to hold back my laughter. “I said you wouldn’t fuck me against every surface! So I wasn’t wrong because you didn’t.”

  I held my finger up. “No, you said take what I want, and I wanted your mouth on mine. I got it.”

  “You son of a bitch.”

  I grinned. “Actually, my mom is really nice. She’d love you.” With a wink, I was rewarded with a frustrated scream that had my groin tight. “And don’t worry, I’ll get you to tell me your name. So I can scream it.”

  Our eyes stayed locked for another second before I winked once more and then turned around slowly, clapping my hands as I met Max’s wide gaze.

  “Maxy, ready for another round?”

  I glanced back at her and saw her hands were shaking. She looked like she was going to attack me, and all I could do was grin.

  And she thought she was going to put me in my place.

  Hah.

  Chapter Six

  Bo

  “That cocky son of a bitch.”

  “Um, did anyone else see the fireworks?” Lizzy asked, her eyes wide and full of all things gooey and sweet. Like how they always got when we would watch a stupid romance movie. She loved that shit, but I’d be damned if she put that fake shit on me. That was not my jam.

  But before I could even mutter anything, Maci squealed, “Yes! Oh my goodness! They are so into each other.”

  “I’m right here,” I complained, but obviously no one was listening.

  “Did you see the way he looked at her?” Natalie asked. “It was so hot. So hot. And oh my God, I’m hot everywhere.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I mumbled as Lizzy pointed to Natalie.

  “Right? I mean, holy moly. Bo, tell me you didn’t feel that?”

  I looked her dead in the face. “I felt nothing but my hate fire growing fast and hot.”

  “Right! I’m hot too!”

  For the love of God. I was getting nowhere with these people. All I felt was my growing anger toward Gus. How dare he! He didn’t know me! He was delusional, and how dare he say those things! He basically made me out to be some smart girl who fluttered around, acting dumb. That wasn’t me. He and his stupid antics could go right to hell!

  And that kiss?

  Argh! Oh, how he used my words against me. That son of a bitch! Even if he did taste like everything right and wrong in the world. Or that his lips took mine in a way I had never experienced before. Because, damn it, I didn’t want to experience it!

  Damn it!

  Stewing, I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest as the girls went on and on about how fucking hot Gus Persson was. I bet he was watching, loving every second of it. He strived for this kind of attention. It was all a ploy, another way to get all the attention. He was so pathetic, and I wished he would just go away. But he wouldn’t, not anytime soon. Which was annoying as hell.

  Ugh.

  When his laughter filled the room—the obnoxious sound sending chills down my spine—my gaze cut to where he was leaning on the pool table. His whole body was moving with the motion of his laughter. Glaring, I watched as he leaned into his pool stick, his jaw slack as the guy in front of him said something that was apparently very funny. Looking at his dark hair and thick jaw, I wanted to say he looked like Jesse, the guy who had fucked me over, just like Gus had said. But he didn’t look like Jesse. Jesse had soft features and wasn’t that big. Gus took up the whole room. He was so big, so handsome, and fuck, yeah, maybe he did do something to my insides, but I’d never act on it. Not even in my drunken state.

  It was just a simple movement, his gaze casually meeting mine. My skin was prickling, and it wasn’t from a draft. Gone was the smug look and even the cockiness. All that was left was a dark and smoldering loo
k in his eyes as he held my gaze. His shoulders went back, his tongue coming out to wet his lips, and within seconds I could feel that tongue on mine. It was quick, maybe just half a second, but I would never forget it.

  Leaning on his pool stick, he took in a deep breath, filling his wide chest before blowing it out, his gaze never leaving mine. Heat gathered between my legs, and soon I was squirming in my seat, but I wouldn’t look away. I wouldn’t let him win.

  But he must have seen my struggle, because within seconds, back came that stupid cocky grin, and then he blew me a kiss.

  “Motherfu…” My words trailed off as I looked away, mad that I’d allowed him to hold my gaze for that long. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I really that drunk? I reached for my purse, but Lizzy stopped me.

  “No, don’t leave!”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not. I’m going to the bar for a drink.”

  “We can order them.”

  My gaze went back to where he was watching me, and I shook my head. “I need some space.”

  And I wasn’t lying. Plus, I planned to get some water and didn’t want her to see. I did not like the person I was becoming with each swig of my drink. Nope, that girl was dumb, and I refused to not be level-headed right now or lose control. Not with Gus in the room.

  Even if I wanted so desperately to do so.

  Ugh. Why had I thought that?

  Shaking my head in disgust, I left the room and entered the next. It was busy, so it took me a moment to get to the bar. When I reached it, I leaned on it before waving to the bartender. He saw me, flashed me one finger that I assumed meant one second. Letting out a breath, I leaned on my elbows and pulled out my phone. Hitting Facebook, I scrolled through my feed as I waited. When Gus’s earlier words came into my head, I rolled my eyes. He didn’t know anything about me. I shared all kinds of stuff that I believed in—but, oh my God, why did I care?