by Tiffany King
“At least the Knights won, right? Besides, they’d look like total douches throwing a cripple out of a game.”
“And you figure you had something to do with the outcome?”
“You can’t prove I didn’t.”
“With that logic, how can I even think of arguing?” I said, shaking my head.
Our row was littered with discarded trash, so I used my foot to clear a path as Mac followed behind. Going down the stairs proved to be no less difficult, but she took more care by using me to balance herself. By the time we made our way outside, the charged-up crowd had clogged the entire surrounding area.
I held Mac’s hand, pulling her as close to me as possible to avoid the crush of bodies. She took it all in stride, but I was beginning to fume again. It was like people lived in their own worlds, not noticing that maybe some of us needed the sidewalk for what it was actually intended for. I tried to remain calm, asking as nicely as possible to pass through, but a couple assholes had the nerve to look annoyed, like asking them to stop their conversation and take a step to the side was somehow an inconvenience. Mac could see that I was heating up because she placed her hand on my arm, telling me it was fine. I smiled at her, taking a deep breath. We were almost through the bulk of the crowd anyway.
Out of nowhere, a body slammed into Mac at full speed. Neither of us saw it coming and there was nothing I could do as the force of the collision sent Mac sprawling toward the ground.
Rage colored my vision red as I looked down at Mac, who had rolled over to find her jeans torn at the knees with blood already seeping through. Her hands were badly scraped from where she had hit the concrete. Some of the surrounding crowd rushed to Mac’s side to make sure she was okay. As for the piece of shit who had knocked her down, whether or not he was attempting to apologize didn’t matter to me at that moment.
I grabbed his arm and twirled him around just as my clenched fist smashed him squarely in the jaw. He staggered backward, falling on his ass.
“How’s it feel, dickhead?” I growled, standing over him and ready to hit him again if he stood.
One of his friends jumped to his aid. “What the fuck, man?” He shoved me in the chest. I raised my hands, ready to throw down if he stepped forward. The crowd circled us, feeling the tension in the air. They watched eagerly, waiting to see who would be the next one to throw a punch. Nothing got a bunch of students hyped up like a fight.
Two guys in yellow security shirts pushed their way into the crowd, jumping between us to calm the situation. After a stare-off and some finger-pointing, the incident dissipated rather quickly, much to the dismay of some of the onlooking crowd. They expressed their disappointment that no further blows were exchanged. A few more security workers showed up and they assessed Mac’s condition, asking if she needed medical help. I gave them my credentials, assuring them I could take care of her. After quietly telling me they would have reacted the same way, we all parted ways.
“Are you okay?” I asked Mac, kneeling beside her. Her eyes were as big as saucers.
“I can’t believe you hit him.” She looked shocked and angry with me like I’d done something wrong.
“Yeah, well, I can’t believe he knocked you down. He was a total asshole.”
“I get knocked into all the time. Maybe not like this by some drunken jockstrap who didn’t even know what he was doing.” She declined taking my hand to help her up, but realized quickly she had no choice. It was hard enough under normal conditions for her to stand from a sitting position. Scraped knees and hands definitely didn’t help. I took her under the arm and she grudgingly accepted, wincing as we raised her to her feet. Her face was red, probably as much from anger at me as embarrassment. “You can’t punch everyone who misses this,” she added, holding up her cane with disgust.
“He was a prick, plain and simple. Maybe next time he’ll be more considerate of people.” I’d probably overreacted. Okay, I definitely overreacted. Seeing Mac lying in a bleeding heap on the sidewalk sent me over the edge. Especially since if I’d had a better hold of her, she may not have fallen so badly.
“So, now it’s your job to protect me?” she huffed, heading down the sidewalk and leaving me behind. She looked like a wreck, but in her determination limped along with purpose.
“Mac, come on. I couldn’t let him get away with it,” I said through clenched teeth, catching up to her easily.
She whirled around in anger, catching me off guard. “Look, Bentley, in case you missed it, I don’t like attention on me. This cane and my damn gimpy limp make it pretty hard to stay inconspicuous. Having some guy I’m dating punch out another guy is not inconspicuous.”
Despite the circumstances, I felt the stirrings of desire. She was pissed as hell, but damn if she didn’t look sexy. I don’t know what kind of asshole that made me, but I couldn’t help it.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” She paused in her tirade.
“Like what?” I asked, surprised. I guess I didn’t have much of a poker face.
“Like I’m amusing you,” she said with more aggravation.
“I can’t help it. You’re cute when you’re mad.”
sixteen
Mac
“Cute?” He seriously did not just call me cute. He punches a guy and then has the nerve to downplay my anger? I clenched my own fist, tempted to throw my own punch. Anything to knock the grin off his face.
“I would say adorable, but I’m guessing that would have been pushing it,” he teased.
“Don’t do that, okay? I’m pissed. Don’t think you can get mad enough to hit someone and that’s justified, but then dismiss my anger as cute. You don’t seem to understand that makes me feel like you don’t care about my feelings.”
“Shit,” he said, exhaling. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” His smile turned to a frown as he looked down at the dried blood covering my torn jeans. “Do you need to sit down?” he asked, indicating the low wall behind me.
“No, and I don’t feel like standing in the middle of the sidewalk arguing about it with my knees throbbing. I just want to get to my dorm and then I’ll take care of them,” I said, limping forward.
“We’re closer to my apartment. Let’s go there and I’ll clean them up.”
I wanted to argue, especially since I was still mad, but he reasoned that he had everything we would need to clean me up, and was trained to do it. I grudgingly agreed. He was right that his apartment was closer. My embarrassment over the whole situation dissipated as we walked. My friends and I had always stuck up for each other, but no guy I’d ever known had punched someone to defend my honor. I was being completely mental, but I found it a bit flattering now that a large crowd of people wasn’t looking at us. The fall itself had been mortifying. I know it wasn’t my fault, but taking a dive in front of the guy you liked was not my idea of fun.
As usual, Bentley carried me up the stairs to his apartment. My knees, which had moved beyond throbbing to downright pain, nearly wept in relief when he scooped me up in his arms. When we reached his landing, he didn’t pause to set me down. Instead, he continued to his apartment. I thought about complaining, but it felt so good to be off my feet.
Chad was playing Xbox when Bentley pushed the front door open, holding me in his arms. He looked up when we entered, cutting his greeting short at the sight of my knees.
“What the hell did you do to her?” He glared at Bentley as he jumped off the couch. Despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t help smiling at his reaction.
“I didn’t do this, dumb-ass. Some jerk-off knocked her down in front of the arena,” Bentley answered, depositing me on the couch carefully like I was delicate china.
“Are you kidding me? I hope you knocked his fucking lights out.”
“See?” Bentley said, looking at me. “Maybe not his lights, but I think I might have loosened a couple teeth,” Bentley answered, holding his fist up like a trophy.
“That’s what I’m talking about, dude,” Chad said, fist bumping
Bentley.
“What else would I expect from a couple of cavemen?”
“Are you kidding? If some guy messes with our girl, it’s our job to set him straight.”
“Our girl?” I parroted, looking at Bentley.
“Bro, get your own girl,” Bentley told him, nudging him out of the way so he could help me roll up my jeans. “Hand me my kit.”
“I didn’t mean we were both dating Mac. I just meant that as your friend, if I saw some asshat knock her down, I’d make sure he was also on the ground,” Chad said, handing Bentley a first-aid kit that put any others I’d seen to shame.
“Trust me. He means well,” Bentley said, working my jeans to midcalf. They refused to go any higher since they were skinny jeans. They happened to be my favorite pair, but at the moment I hated them. “This isn’t working. You’re going to have to take them off.”
Chad, who had resumed his game, turned his head so suddenly to look at us, I was afraid he was going to get whiplash.
“I’m not taking my jeans off in front of you two.”
“I won’t peek,” Chad piped in with a wolfish grin on his face.
“I didn’t mean for you to strip down completely. Trust me, when that happens, Chad will not be with us. I was going to suggest you put on a pair of my sweats. That way I can get to your knees better.”
“Okay. I guess I can do that.”
Chad offered to help me with the sweats when Bentley came back out to the living room with them. Bentley glared at him. “Out,” he said, pointing toward Chad’s room.
“I’m not your fucking dog,” Chad grumbled, picking up his Red Bull and heading for his room.
I smiled as he stomped away, leaving an awkward silence. I was perfectly capable of hobbling into the sweats, but Bentley wasn’t making any movement to leave. This was not how I’d pictured taking my pants off in front of him. Not that I’d given it a lot of thought. Okay, I’d given it significant thought, but the scenario did not involve dried blood on both knees.
“I can do it,” I said as Bentley kneeled on the floor in front of me and placed his hands on the hips of my jeans. I wasn’t ready for him to see my leg. I knew if our relationship progressed, he was bound to see the numerous scars that ran from my knee all the way up to my thigh, but I wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
He studied me intently, reading my face. “Trust me.”
His finger found the snap of my jeans. I gripped his hand, terrified of what he would think when he saw my leg.
“Mac, it’s okay. Trust me,” he repeated. His words melted something inside me. The air around us felt like it had been sucked from the room like a vacuum. What shouldn’t have been hot had suddenly become the most erotic experience of my life.
I sucked in a breath as his fingers grazed my lower stomach just above my panties. He popped my button open and carefully lowered my zipper. Luckily, he kept his head down because if he would have looked up, my eyes would have given away my secret yearning. As it was, my fingers itched to comb through his hair and pull him close to the sensitive skin that his fingers were currently tormenting. I balled my hands into fists, letting my nails dig into my palms. It was slightly embarrassing to be fantasizing about his mouth on my stomach when he was trying to help me. It was another kind of help I was looking for now.
He tugged slowly on my jeans. I was so wound up I wanted to shout at him to hurry. I closed my eyes, lifting my hips as he guided the hem of my jeans down until they rested at my feet. Every nerve in my body was at full charge as goose bumps covered my arms. The backs of his fingers stroked against my legs. I bit off a moan. All of this was so foreign. I felt almost sick from the scattered sensations shooting through me. Was this what arousal felt like?
I opened my eyes, expecting to still see his head down, but he was studying me intently. His eyes were dark as coal. My tongue wet my lips as my body felt ready and aware. My leg was now the farthest thing from my mind.
I watched him slide his hands lightly over my stomach, which tightened in response. The movement didn’t go unnoticed as the tips of Bentley’s fingers toyed with my panties, letting me know I only had to say the word and they would come off, too. I dragged my lip nervously into my mouth. My eyes flickered to his hands, which had set me on fire. I didn’t have to ask what he was thinking. The intensity of his stare made it clear he was as hot as I was.
His lips lowered to my skin, kissing the soft barely visible peach fuzz on my stomach. A sigh that turned into a moan left my lips when his tongue glided down just under the top of my panties. His hands gripped my hips at the sound. My hands moved of their own accord, weaving through his hair and pulling him closer. The ache between my legs I’d been trying to ignore became persistent as I raised my hips off the couch to give him what we both wanted.
“Are you decent yet?” Chad called out. His voice was like a bucket of ice-cold water being dumped over my head. Even though he was still in his room, I tried to jerk my pants up, but Bentley’s face prevented my movement. He looked up, smirking at me.
“Not funny,” I muttered, blushing for the millionth time of the evening. I wouldn’t have admitted it, but I was glad for the interruption. I wasn’t sure how things had escalated so rapidly. A few more unsupervised minutes and I wasn’t sure how far we would have gone. When Zach and I did the deed, it had been planned for months. There was nothing spur of the moment about it.
“Very true. It’s not funny, but at the moment, short of locking Chad in his room, humor is the only thing keeping me sane,” he said, sliding my jeans off my feet. I had gotten so worked up in the moment that I forgot I was lying there with my scar out in the open. I could have turned Bentley away, but it somehow felt wrong after the intensity of what had just happened. His eyes lingered, not on my scarred leg, but on the Wonder Woman panties that barely covered me.
“You’re trying to kill me,” he muttered.
“Why?”
“Seriously? Forget about the fact that we’ve been interrupted twice now, but Wonder Woman underwear?”
“Panties,” I corrected.
“What?”
“They’re panties,” I teased.
“Whatever, they’re still Wonder Woman,” he said, helping me into his pair of sweats. His hands gently cupped my bad leg. I shivered as his fingers moved over my scars. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. I might have embarrassed myself by bawling or something. Besides my doctors and my parents, he was the only one who had seen my scars.
“And that’s a good thing?” I asked, bringing my thoughts back to his fascination with my panties.
“Wonder Woman is like a top-of-the-list fantasy chick, so you wearing those seriously adds to the whole image.” He pulled the sweats over my hips and into place, ending the game.
I had to laugh at his reasoning. They were just panties, but in light of what had almost happened, I guess it made sense. In spite of him seeing my leg, I was still aching for more than I cared to admit.
“I’m coming out,” Chad yelled, officially ending the mood.
“He’s like a damn toddler. Now I get why my mom always joked that kids would one day ruin my sex life.” He rolled up the leg of the sweats so he could look at my knees.
“Wait. Your mom would tell you that?” I thought I’d misheard him.
“What took so long?” Chad grumbled, sitting next to me on the couch. He grimaced when he spotted my knees, which looked as bad as they felt. Thanks to Bentley’s momentary distraction, I’d forgotten about the throbbing abrasions.
“Yeah,” Bentley said, answering my question. “My mom was pretty forward about that stuff. I think she was trying to scare me into practicing safe sex. This will feel cool,” he added, dabbing at my knees with some kind of antibacterial cleaner.
I flinched but remained quiet while he continued to wipe away the dried blood. “You’re lucky,” I said. “My parents’ stance was just don’t do it.”
“Trust me. I would have preferred that over my mom’s openness. S
he felt it was her job to lecture my friends, too.”
“True story,” Chad interrupted. “Remember when she found out I was dating Olivia Bakersfield?”
Bentley winked at me, chuckling.
“What did she do?”
“She handed me a box of condoms in front of the guys and made me practice rolling the condom onto a banana.”
“No she didn’t,” I gasped, covering my mouth.
“I shit you not,” Chad grumbled.
“You’re neglecting to tell her the whole story,” Bentley pointed out. “Like, for whatever dumb-ass reason you said you couldn’t wait to ‘tap that’ when you were talking about Olivia?”
“You said that in front of his mom?”
“That’s right.” Chad chuckled. “I did say that, didn’t I? Still, I should have bet money on it because it happened.”
“Like anyone would have taken that sucker bet. Who didn’t have a shot at Olivia? All you had to do was ask,” Bentley joked, bandaging my right knee before turning to the other one.
“Ha, ain’t that the truth.” Chad agreed as they high-fived, proud of themselves until my disgusted look brought them back to reality.
“So, did you ask?” I asked Bentley, who had suddenly felt the need to concentrate on bandaging my other leg.
“No comprendo,” he said, not looking up.
“Yeah, right. Maybe I’ll be the next person to do the punching.”
Both of them burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, looking back and forth at them as they roared with laughter.
“You couldn’t hurt a fly,” Chad said, squeezing my bicep.
“Hey, I’m tougher than I look.”
“We know,” Bentley said to pacify me. “We both think you could hurt a fly.”
Chad laughed again.
“You’re both assholes,” I complained, sinking back against the couch cushions as Bentley pulled the sweats I’d borrowed down over my bandaged knees. The sweats were huge on me, but I liked them.
“Yeah, and you’re adorable,” Bentley answered, leaning in to give me a kiss on the head.