Jock Blocked

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Jock Blocked Page 4

by Snow, Jenika


  “Tristan, dude? What the fuck?” I glanced over and shook my head. “For one thing, no, I didn’t fuck her. And another thing, is that what you think of girls?” Rachel was a bitch, but I didn’t believe in degrading them like that. Trying to get laid then kicking them to the curb wasn’t my style.

  “Rachel isn’t a girl, Cannon. Rachel is a breed all on her own, man.”

  I sure as hell agreed on that.

  We started playing the video game, and I thought about Stella, how she was so different from those girls that Tristan talked about.

  “What I need to do is find a girl like Stella. She’s cool as fuck and doesn’t give two shits about all that petty bullshit.”

  I felt my body tighten, my hackles rise. But I kept my mouth shut.

  “She’s gorgeous too, man. I wonder if she’d be down to hang out.”

  Everything in me rose up violently. I shouldn’t take this out on Tristan because he didn’t know how I felt about her, but there was no stopping the words from coming out.

  “Stay away from her.” The words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them. The rough gravel of my voice, the way I felt my aggression pour from me ... it was all because of Stella.

  I knew Tristan was very aware of it all because he paused the game and looked over at me. “What the fuck, man?”

  I glanced at him but didn’t say anything.

  “Are you and her together?”

  I set my controller down and exhaled, resting my head back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Nah,” I said and that felt like the worst word I could have said in that moment. It was actually painful. “No, we aren’t together, but she’s fucking off-limits, especially to you and your reputation.” I stared Tristan in the eyes, meaning every damn word I said.

  He knitted his brows. “What do you mean ‘my reputation’?”

  I shook my head. He knew exactly what I meant. Tristan had the reputation of being a whore—for lack of a better word—at school. But it wasn’t just rumors. It was the truth. And I didn’t want Stella anywhere near that bullshit.

  Truth was, I didn’t want her near any fucking guy for that matter. Even if I hadn’t started having these feelings for her, the thought of her being with a guy who wasn’t good enough was not something I would’ve stood for.

  “You sure you guys are just friends?” Tristan lifted an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips.

  “I’ve never wanted any assholes by her, and dude, even though you’re my friend, you’re a big asshole.”

  He flashed a grin. “Touché.” He shrugged. “Man, I’ll stay away. But you can’t shelter her forever. When she heads off to college, you don’t think she’s going to get some deep dicking?”

  “Tristan.” I said his name on a warning growl.

  Tristan resumed the game and faced forward. “No disrespect, but I mean, why is it cool that you hang out with chicks, but any guy who comes sniffing around her gets mean mugged by you?”

  I didn’t respond, just thought about what he’d said. He was right, of course, and although I should’ve backed off and let her do what she wanted, be with whoever she wanted to be with, truth was I couldn’t change, especially not now, not with what I was starting to feel for her.

  We didn’t talk about that anymore, and instead played the video game for the next twenty minutes. It was only when I beat Tristan’s ass and he cursed me out, did he shift on the couch and look at me.

  “Dude, you decide if you’re coming to the party this weekend, or what?” He continued to play the game, his focus on the TV, but I knew, could tell in his voice, that he wanted me to go.

  We tended to get rowdy when we’d been drinking, and the parties we went to got out of fucking control.

  “Bring Stella. I don’t think she’s ever gone to a party.”

  “No, she hasn’t. We should probably keep it that way.” I reached for my bottle of water and downed the rest of it.

  “Why? She’s a tough girl and can handle herself. Hell, she might actually enjoy it, too.”

  Yeah, the very thought of Stella around all that bullshit, the drunken guys, the sex filling the air ... already had me anxious and my anger rising.

  “She won’t break, dude.”

  I looked over at Tristan but he was still staring at the TV.

  Yeah, she wouldn’t break, but if anyone tried to get with her, I was liable to break them.

  8

  Stella

  I pulled my car into the parking lot of Pete’s just as my engine made a strange sound, and smoke started billowing out from under the hood. I looked down at my temperature gauge, seeing that the needle was all the way to hot.

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. After turning off the car and sitting there a moment, the smoke still coming out from under the hood, a few people glancing my way, I rested my head back on the seat and felt embarrassment flood me.

  This was exactly what I didn’t need right now, but I guess the timing was kind of perfect. I was at Pete’s Auto Shop, after all.

  I grabbed my purse and climbed out of the car, heading inside. Ryan stood by the counter going over some invoices, and when the little bell above the door jingled my entrance, he glanced up. He didn’t show any expression on his face at first, but he did look me up and down.

  I felt greasy, oily from his gaze. “Pete around?” He tipped his chin toward the garage. “Thanks.” I moved past him, feeling Ryan watching me the whole time.

  I pulled open the door, classic rock instantly surrounding me, the sound of men laughing and talking, of tools clanking on the cement, filling my ears. For a moment, I just stood there and looked around, seeing cars hoisted up, men working on them. I saw Pete over by the sink, washing his hands. I made my way toward him, smiling at a few of the guys as I walked by.

  Pete glanced up at me and shifted so he faced me now. I didn’t miss his gaze drop to my chest. What was with all these asshole guys?

  “Hey,” I said louder than usual so he could hear me. “You think you could look at my car? Smoke’s coming out from under the hood and my temperature gauge is all the way up.”

  “Sure thing.” He gave a sharp nod before grabbing a rag and drying his hands off.

  I followed him out and toward my car, popping the hood when he asked, and climbing out to stand off to the side.

  For several minutes, he looked under the hood, reaching down and messing with things, before he finally straightened and closed it again. “You need a new water pump,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Okay. How much is that and how long does that usually take to fix?”

  He lifted his hand and scratched his cheek, looking at my car as if thinking about it. “I won’t charge you for labor, but I know we don’t have this in stock. Cost is probably going to be around eighty bucks or so.”

  I nodded and looked at my car. “How long do you think it’ll be before it comes in?” I knew from working in the shop that it could take as little as a couple days, or as long as a couple weeks.

  He shrugged, his overalls grease-stained, his hands the same even though he’d just washed them. “Week tops, maybe sooner. But I probably can’t get to it until the end of next week, if it comes in by then.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Usually how these things work.” He looked back at my car, then back at the garage. “We’ll get ‘er done, though.”

  “Okay, well thanks for not charging me labor. I guess just let me know when you find out more.”

  He gave a gruff grunt. “I’ll have you order the part.”

  I nodded once. That was what I normally did at work anyway.

  We headed back inside and I went behind the front desk, sat in the old rickety chair that felt like sandpaper and smelled like grease, and pulled out my cell phone and sent Cannon a text.

  So, I have a favor to ask?

  A second later I saw those little dots in the bottom left-hand corner that told me he was responding.

  Cannon: Anythin
g.

  I need a ride to and from work for the next couple weeks. If you can?

  Again, those little dots were flickering in the corner.

  Cannon: No problem. Everything ok?

  Fine, just my crappy car finally took a shit.

  Cannon: Where are you? I’ll come get you now.

  I’m at Pete’s. Thank God it waited until I pulled into the parking lot.

  I could feel the worry coming through his text, in the speed of his responses. I couldn’t help but smile.

  Cannon: I’ll be there when you get off work.

  After finishing up the text, I put my phone back in my bag and looked through the main windows out to the garage. Pete was standing by Ryan, both of them staring out at the parking lot. A second later, Pete handed my car key to Ryan. It was a few minutes later that Ryan pulled my car into the garage, the smoke billowing out from under the hood all over again.

  Pete came in and handed me a slip of paper that told me what I’d need to order for it. I went to work placing the order, but my mind was on Cannon.

  Although it sucked that my car was acting like a piece of shit, there was this little part of me that couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of anticipation at the fact Cannon would be driving me around.

  Yeah, keeping my feelings in check was gonna be a lot harder than I thought if getting rides from him made me this excited.

  9

  Stella

  I looked out the windows of the front office of the body shop, the sun starting to set, expecting Cannon any minute. I turned back toward the computer and shut it down, grabbed my purse, and stood.

  The sound of the side garage door opening had me glancing toward it. Ryan walked in, a stack of manila folders covered in greasy fingerprints in his hand.

  He set them on the counter and looked up at me, his expression stoic. “These need to be invoiced and filed next time you’re in.”

  I nodded and reached out for them, but as I tried to pull them back, he kept his hold on the folders. When I glanced up our gazes caught. I should’ve just let go of them, shouldn’t have played in to whatever bullshit he was trying to start.

  “Are you going to give them to me, or what?” But I was too damn stubborn for all that. He held on to them for a suspended moment, a smile slowly creeping across his lips, before finally letting go.

  I set them on the counter so I could work on them when I was in next, but I could feel his gaze on me the whole time.

  “How about you let me take you out?”

  This really wasn’t how I wanted to end my night, because I had a feeling Ryan was the type of guy who didn’t take no very easily.

  “Sorry, but I have a boyfriend,” I lied easily. It just seemed like a better cop-out than trying to tell Ryan I just wasn’t interested.

  But he didn’t move, didn’t even seem to breathe for long moments. “Boyfriend, huh?” He sounded unconvinced. “I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

  I shrugged, trying to act like this wasn’t starting to get weird, but it wasn’t any of his damn business. “I’m not sure what to tell you, Ryan. I have one, so...” My words hung between us and then his grin slowly spread, one that made me uncomfortable.

  He moved around the desk so he was now right across from me, his hands hanging over the edges, his fingers playing with the chipped Formica counter.

  I leaned back in the chair to get further away from him.

  “To be honest, I don’t care if you do have a boyfriend.”

  The scent of motor oil covered him like a second skin. I was used to it, but right now I certainly wasn’t. Right now, it made my stomach turn. “Ryan, I do care. So thanks, but no thanks.”

  He reached out and before I could stop him, he took a strand of my hair that had fallen from my ponytail, and started rubbing it between his fingers.

  “How about you and I head to my truck, get to know each other more?” He grinned and looked right in my eyes. “I bet you’re tight as hell. I’d love to—”

  “You’d like to what? Say it again and see what happens.”

  The sound of Cannon’s voice had my heart beating a little faster. It was hard ... angry.

  The silence stretched between the three of us and I felt the tension in the air thickening, felt the testosterone grow between Cannon and Ryan.

  Ryan turned his body so he was facing Cannon. I felt this thick lump in my throat grow, my heart race, and my palms go sweaty. I knew Cannon like I knew myself. Although he was sweet and gentle when it came to me, he was someone totally different when someone was an asshole to him or others he cared about.

  And judging by Cannon’s face, he was ready to cross that line with Ryan.

  Cannon took a step forward, as did Ryan. They were both equally matched in height and muscle mass. I didn’t want this escalating.

  I stood and walked around the desk, placing myself between the two guys.

  “Yeah? And what are you going to do if I say it again?” Ryan was clearly not smart enough to know that this wasn’t going to end well. But then again, he seemed like the type of guy to start shit just to start it.

  Cannon took another step forward and I reached out and placed my hand on the center of his chest. He looked down at me, his jaw tight, a muscle working under his cheek.

  “Cannon, let’s just get out of here.” He was looking me right in the eyes, and I knew he wanted to argue with me but after a prolonged moment, he glanced back up at Ryan.

  “You’d be fucking smart not to disrespect Stella.”

  I looked down at his hands and saw they were clenched into tight fists. The silence stretched even more.

  “Because being a bastard toward her is only going to get your teeth kicked in.”

  Ryan chuckled.

  I used a little pressure on Cannon’s chest and pushed him backward. “It’s time to go.” Thank God he didn’t fight me on it.

  Once we were outside, I exhaled slowly. I was also thankful Ryan hadn’t followed us out, which I’d half-expected him to do.

  Cannon said nothing as we walked to his car, as we climbed in, and as he started the vehicle. The silence was deafening.

  I didn’t know what to say, didn’t even know if saying anything would help the situation. I looked out the passenger side window, watching the town go by. I looked over at Cannon again, the light from the dashboard washing his face in this low glow, the fact he was still upset very clear.

  “Cannon, can we talk about this?” I heard the tightening of his hands on the steering wheel, felt that knot in my throat grow even more.

  “There’s not much to talk about, Stella.”

  I licked my lips, wanting nothing more than to reach out and place my hand on his arm, try and calm him without saying a word. But he wasn’t in a good place right now, his emotions very volatile. I could feel it, sense it in the air, this thickening feeling that was almost suffocating.

  “I think there’s a lot to talk about, Cannon.” After a moment, I heard him exhale. He pulled off to the side of the road, the gravel crunching under his tires. He left the car running, the sound of the car idling not able to mask the silence that descended.

  We sat there in silence for a long moment, maybe neither one of us knowing exactly what to say.

  “I was two seconds away from beating his fucking ass, Stella.” Cannon’s voice was pitched dangerously low. He turned his head and looked at me, the shadows obscuring part of his face, his blue eyes piercing right into me. “I can only imagine how far he would’ve gone if I hadn’t shown up.” He still had his hands on the steering well and he squeezed it tightly, the sound loud in the interior of the car.

  He was grinding his teeth, maybe trying to control himself, but his anger was evident.

  “He wouldn’t have done anything. We were at the shop.” I said that but I didn’t really know if it was the truth. I don’t know much about Ryan, and I’d certainly never thought he would stoop to that level.

  “Stella, you and I both know he would h
ave done exactly what he’d said. The kind of fucker he is always wants what he can’t have.”

  Cannon faced forward again and I could see his jaw working, his gaze leveled on the road before us. He pulled back out without saying anything, and we rode in silence for the remainder of the trip. When we finally got to my house and he parked by the curb, I was about to climb out, not sure what to say, how to make things okay … how to make him feel okay.

  I’d never seen him this upset before.

  “Sorry about how tonight ended. If you want I can find someone else to pick me up and take me to work.” I was about to open the car door when Cannon reached out and grabbed my wrist gently. I stopped and looked over my shoulder at him, our gazes clashing, holding. His expression looked distant. He shook his head slowly.

  “I’m the one who’s sorry,” he finally said and let go of my wrist, placing his hands on his lap, looking forward again. I shifted on the seat so I could face him fully, shaking my head slowly.

  “You have nothing to say sorry about.”

  We sat there in silence for a moment and I could see Cannon was at war with himself over something. I wanted to ask him about it and be there for him, help him through it, but I didn’t want to push. I didn’t want to invade whatever he was going through. I figured if he wanted to be honest with me, he would. If he wanted to share what was bothering him, he would.

  He stared out the front windshield for long seconds, but now he looked at me again, this strange expression on his face, this weird feeling consuming me. I felt as though the air was being sucked out of the car, out of my very lungs. I wanted to reach across the seat and take his hand in mine. I wanted to tell him all the things I felt, how I was not feeling this friendship anymore.

  How I was feeling something much deeper.

  I was feeling love.

  I was in love.

  It was this controlling emotion, taking hold of everything in me, twisting inside of me, growing. It wrapped its fingers deep inside of me so there was never a chance of escape.

  But escape wasn’t what I wanted.

 

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