Gold

by K. A. Linde

  He pulled the material over her head, rolled her over flat on the bed, and covered her body. His hands were everywhere, drawing a road map on her skin as clumsily as he could. Then, he fiddled with himself, slid on a condom, and reached down to shove her underwear aside.

  It had been a while since she had sex, and even though Andrew wasn’t the person she wanted to be on top of her right now, he would have to do. He wasn’t a conquest in the same way. He was more of a plaything, and she wasn’t going to think about the fact that she could do better than him and had done so in the past.

  Her body responded as if it had been starving for attention. Europe was a distant memory. When she came, it wasn’t earth-shattering, but it did the job better than masturbating. And it was damn better than waiting around for Mr. Right to never show up. Otherwise, she would never have sex again.

  Later, when she returned to the room she shared with Stacia, she wasn’t even surprised to find it empty. Stacia had said she was going to find her own fun even if it wasn’t with Blaine. Bryna changed into her silk slip and crawled under the hotel comforter. She didn’t even crinkle her nose at the lack of quality compared to what she was used to. She rested her head on the pillow and tried to let sleep take her, but her heart constricted.

  This was right. This was how life was supposed to be.

  Love was an illusion. It didn’t exist in her world.

  She shouldn’t expect it. There was no point in searching for it. All it had ever done was weaken her, turn her into an idiot, force her to make bad choices, and completely lose control.

  She had the control now.

  No matter how empty she felt on the inside.

  The next morning, Bryna shrugged off Stacia’s questions about her night. She didn’t want to talk about it. It had been a while since she felt so low. And it made zero sense. After such a victory, she should have been unbelievably happy, yet she had lain awake for far too long, trying to fall asleep and chase the memories away.

  She was not broken. Today, she would renew her calm confidence and forget about the momentary slip.

  They were transported back to the airport, and she sank heavily into her assigned seat on the airplane. Her head was throbbing. She was in no mood to talk to anyone. It was too early in the morning, and she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. As soon as the plane took off, she was going to put in her headphones and pass out. She wished she were flying private, so she would have a bed to sleep in. That would be ideal.

  “Bryna!” Beth said, appearing in front of her.

  Beth was a senior on the cheer team and a real pain in the ass.

  “Hey, Beth,” she said.

  “You’re sitting next to Greg, right?” she asked.

  “Uh…yeah, I think so.”

  “Can we switch seats?”

  Bryna arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” She flipped her dark brown ponytail and winked. “Plus, you’ll be at the front of the plane, so first off.”

  Bryna wanted to ask what Beth was going to do for her if she switched, but it was a sign of how out of it she was that she didn’t. “Fine. Where are you sitting?”

  Beth breathed out a sigh of relief as if she had thought it was going to be more difficult than that. She handed over her plane ticket, and Bryna grabbed her bags and trudged up the aisle. She found her row empty and took the aisle seat even though Beth’s ticket directed her to the window.

  Bryna hated window seats. She hated the thought of climbing over people to have to get up. She hated waiting for someone else to get out of the way, so she could get to her bags. In fact, this was why she hated coach, too. If she couldn’t fly private, then it absolutely should be first class.

  She hoisted her carry-on into the overhead bin, retrieved her headphones, and placed her purse under the seat in front of her. She was blissfully unaware of her surroundings as soon as she closed her eyes and turned on her music. This was her Zen. As long as no one disturbed her, she might be able to control the über bitchiness that was bubbling right under the surface this morning.

  A tap on her shoulder pulled her right out of her happy place. She yanked off her headphones and glared up at the person who had disturbed her.

  “You’re in the wrong seat,” Eric grumbled.

  Fucking great.

  “We meet again,” she said dryly.

  “You’re in the wrong seat,” he repeated.

  “I switched with Beth. She wanted to sit by Greg. I’m sure if I had known I’d have to sit by you on the way home, I wouldn’t have been so generous.”

  “Generous,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve heard you’re very generous.”

  She ignored the jab and rolled her eyes. “Just what I wanted.”

  Eric threw his bag up next to hers. “Seemed that way at Posse.”

  Bryna hadn’t talked to him since that night, and if she’d had it her way, she wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. Especially after the night she’d had, she was in no mood for this.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Didn’t have to,” he said. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “You did that for me, remember?”

  Bryna glowered at him. Seriously, what is wrong with him? All this because I’m sitting in Beth’s seat? Fuck off already! “You have no idea what you’re talking about, so I suggest you shut the fuck up,” she said.

  At her profanity, the people in the seats surrounding them glanced over, but Eric pointedly smiled at them, and they quickly looked away.

  He leaned forward before speaking again, “Why don’t you scoot over?”

  “Um…no. I like the aisle. If I have to demean myself by flying coach, I’m staying in the aisle.”

  “Wow. Flying coach must be so rough for you,” he said as sarcastically as possible. Then, he stepped over her legs and sank into the seat next to her. He pushed his backpack under the seat and removed his own headphones.

  “I prefer to fly private,” she said.

  “Why does none of this surprise me?”

  Bryna gritted her teeth. She had given him the benefit of the doubt earlier because she admired his football skills. But her temper was flaring, and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to handle this right now.

  “What the fuck is your problem? You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know enough,” he drawled, untangling the cord of the headphones.

  “Clearly nothing important. What about you, Cowboy?” she joked, but it came out with venom.

  She knew Eric was from outside of Dallas, and the Southern drawl sometimes crept into his words.

  “What should I know about you, other than that you’re a self-righteous prick who likes to try to humiliate people and pick fights?”

  “A self-righteous prick?” He raised his eyebrows and then nodded. “Seems you already know everything about me. Not sure why you asked me out if you thought that about me.”

  “Ugh! It was a joke.”

  “Asking me out?”

  “Yes!” she snapped. “It was a joke.”

  “You don’t have to cover it up, Bryna. I thought you were quite proud of your promiscuity,” he said the last word so casually.

  On any other day, she might have not cared about what he was saying about her, what he was insinuating about her reputation. But she’d had sex last night with Andrew, someone she didn’t even care about. She wasn’t ashamed of what she had done.

  “Slut-shaming? That’s a new one.”

  “I wasn’t shaming you. Just making a statement about the facts,” he said.

  Bryna glared harder and tried to keep from biting his head off. She took a deep breath and then worked for her hardened exterior. “Promiscuous has such a negative connotation, Eric. I like sex. Maybe you don’t?” she suggested.

  It was as close as she could get to saying she knew he was gay without saying it. Though she was sure he probably had a lot of sex with other men, too. That seemed perfectly normal.

/>   “I like sex,” he said in that sweet Southern drawl.

  She swallowed hard. Hot. “Anyway, I am very picky, so our conversation had to be a joke.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You seriously have a negative opinion of me.”

  “I can’t be the only one. You seem to make it rather easy.”

  She wasn’t sure why that offended her, except that she had never done anything to Eric. He had this god-awful impression of her that made no sense. So, she had slept with one of the guys on the team last night. Who cared? Stacia had slept with a dozen. Yet Eric’s venom was specifically for Bryna. She never saw him act this way around anyone else.

  “Most people find me pretty awesome actually,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Do you tell them that?” He gave her a pointed look.

  “What? No!”

  “You think very highly of yourself, is all, and you’re not afraid to let other people know how great you are.”

  “What’s wrong with that anyway?” she spat. How dare he judge me! “It’s called self-confidence. More people should have it.”

  “There’s self-confidence, and then there’s you.”

  Bryna beamed as if what he was saying was a real prize. “Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment,” he said in frustration. “Kind of hard to get through to you up there.”

  “Hard to get through to me? Are you insane? Talking to you is like speaking to a brick wall. Are you even going to graduate on time? Aren’t all jocks idiots?”

  He stared blankly back at her, but she saw something brewing in his hazel eyes. He was irritated. She was turning into more of an annoyance than he had bargained for. It was clear he was trying to antagonize her to make her leave, but she had no intention of doing so. Not now for sure.

  Something changed in his face as if he was resolute. Bryna braced herself for his barb.

  “All jocks are idiots? At least we got into school based on talent, not on our parents’ booster donations.”

  “I had a four-point-oh in high school. I had the grades and clearly the talent to get in here. Why the hell did they keep you anyway? It’s not like you have talent anymore.” She leaned into him to deliver her killing blow. “Let me ask you, Eric, what’s it like not having a functional knee?”

  Eric cringed.

  She knew she had taken it too far, but he had started this shit. And she would certainly finish it. He already thought poorly of her. What would it matter if she dug her own grave?

  Eric’s mouth hung open slightly, and then he snapped it closed. His eyes were hard, but what she hadn’t anticipated was the look on his face. It wasn’t anger or disgust as he had every right to feel but rather determination.

  He was quiet when he responded, “What’s it like not having a working heart? Must be hard to continue living with a black pit in your chest.”

  He had no idea.

  She opened her mouth to respond even though she had no clue what to say. He was right. She didn’t have a functional heart, and it constantly felt like she had a black pit in her chest. But she couldn’t let him know that.

  “Come on, Bryna. Throw more punches. Get in some more swings. I can go all day like this.”

  And he looked serious.

  She didn’t know what to make of that. No one went head-to-head with her and came out ahead. But she didn’t know what to say. She had no witty retort.

  Finally, she shrugged and faced forward. “Whatever.”

  She plugged her headphones into her ears and tried not to notice the victorious smile that spread across his face.

  He hadn’t won.

  Right?

  “OH, HIM!” Stacia cried. She pointed out a tall guy with blond hair in the pool near where they were lounging. “What do you think about him?”

  On this particularly beautiful Sunday afternoon, the girls had congregated outside at the pool at Posse. This was the last weekend they would be open since the weather was becoming more and more unpredictable. Unable to miss a good party, they had decided to forego studying to spend the afternoon checking out hot guys and drinking daiquiris.

  “No,” Bryna said. “He is definitely on steroids, and we all know what that means!”

  “No way is he that tall and has a tiny dick, Bri. I refuse to believe it,” Stacia cried. “Why must you ruin my fun?”

  “I can’t let you go and try to attach yourself to someone who does ’roids and won’t satisfy you. It’s for your own good.”

  Stacia stuck her bottom lip out. “Are you sure I can’t peek to find out? Then, I could have all sorts of fun.”

  Maya appeared with their drinks. Her sleek black hair was tied back into a ponytail, and she looked like an African goddess. She handed Bryna a replacement strawberry daiquiri and brought Stacia some super sweet fruity concoction that Maya labeled the Cheer Slut. Stacia approved. Trihn took a water from Maya and lounged back in her chair.

  “Drink?” Maya offered Trihn.

  “Next round,” she said. “Thanks though.”

  “Now, who are you two going on about?” Maya asked.

  “The blond with great biceps and washboard abs,” Stacia said.

  “Keith? He’s a regular and a regular douche bag. He grabs everyone’s ass and fucks everything that walks,” Maya filled them in.

  Stacia sighed and glanced hopefully up at Maya. “But does he have a small dick?”

  Bryna burst out laughing. Only Stacia. “Get your priorities straight.”

  “They are!”

  It felt good to cut loose and laugh with her friends. She had been tightly wound all week since the Oregon game. Even fucking Andrew again, twice, and winning their game this past weekend hadn’t removed the stress from her shoulders. Today felt like a detox. Exactly what she needed.

  Maya shook her head. “I’ll ask around for you, S.”

  “Good, and thanks,” Stacia said with a broad smile.

  “Anytime. You know I like to take care of my friends.”

  “True,” Stacia agreed.

  “Hey, have you figured out the mystery with the owner?” Bryna asked.

  Maya had told them a couple of weeks ago that the owner of Posse was some incredibly secretive man. He had purchased the property and built the best club in town but never took any of the credit. No one had ever met him, not even employees. He was the Gatsby of his own Vegas party—always watching from high up, but never letting anyone get near him.

  “No!” Maya cried. She leaned into her hip and flipped her black hair to one side. “A group of us are trying to figure it out. We think a couple of guys in upper management might know something. One of the girls thinks she can get it out of them by sleeping with one of them.”

  Bryna laughed. “Sounds like Stacia’s kind of plan.”

  Stacia shrugged. “I’d do it.”

  “I know you would. But no luck yet. All we know is that he was some hotshot in Atlanta before moving here, and supposedly, he’s single.” Maya winked at the girls.

  “Who do I need to sleep with?” Stacia perked up at the thought of meeting the millionaire mogul who had created her favorite club.

  “And I thought you wanted an NFL quarterback,” Bryna said with an arched eyebrow.

  Stacia sighed heavily in despair. “Blaine won’t even give me the time of day. He keeps calling me Stacy.”

  “I told you!”

  “Yeah, well, if he keeps this up, I’ll start honing in on the backup. He’s hot, and he will probably be the starter next year. I’ll have a leg up.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you will,” Maya said. She nudged her. “Isn’t the backup Marshall Matthews?”

  “Yeah,” Stacia said surprised. “How do you know him?”

  “I think I have a class with him.”

  “Maya, you know everyone!” Stacia crooned.

  “I’m a bartender. That’s my job. Speaking of my job,” she said, glancing around, “I should probably make a circuit and then come back. Don’t want t
he boss to get on me.”

  “Force him to take you to the owner,” Bryna said.

  Maya laughed and nodded. “Done.”

  “You know they won’t say anything to you,” Trihn said, finally speaking up.

  “You’ve been in the clouds a bit, Trihni,” Maya said with a smirk. “I wonder why that is?”

  “What?” Bryna tugged off her Gucci sunglasses and gave Trihn a pointed look. “What are we missing?”

  Trihn shrugged. “Nothing. I was just thinking. What were you talking about anyway?”

  “Who is he?” Bryna asked. “No one thinks that long unless it’s about a guy.”

  “Oh my God! Is he hot? Is he here?” Stacia’s eyes scanned the pool perimeter.

  Maya grinned wide. “You haven’t told them yet?”

  “Told us what?” Stacia bounced excitedly.

  “Really, Maya?” Trihn asked, exasperated.

  Maya cackled and then walked away with her hands raised as if she hadn’t done anything.

  “It’s nothing,” Trihn insisted. “No big deal, which is why I haven’t mentioned it.”

  “If it’s no big deal, then dish!” Bryna cried.

  Trihn sighed. “Fine. You win.” She sat up in her seat and placed her untouched water on the side table. “I met a guy last week while you guys were out of town. His name is Neal. He’s a graphic design major in the art school. We actually have art history together.”

  “And?” Stacia asked.

  “And…we went on a date. Okay, two dates this week.”

  “Two dates, and we’re just now hearing about this guy who is no big deal?” Bryna asked. That didn’t sound like no big deal to her.

  “It didn’t feel like a big deal until you spelled it out like that. He was just a guy.”

  “A cute guy?” Stacia prompted.

  “Very. I guess we’re dating. I don’t know. We haven’t clarified anything yet, but he’s a great kisser,” Trihn said with a smile.

  Bryna smiled to try to keep from laughing. Of course, Trihn was the normal one, who went on dates with a guy and proceeded to kissing and then on from there. That was totally typical behavior. Instead, Stacia was spreading her legs up the ladder on the football team, and Bryna had fucked Andrew twice now without any interest in getting involved with him. Why does none of this surprise me?