11
LOVERS AND FIGHTERS
Ally
The lavender sky sparkles with a million shining stars. It looks fake, like a piece of felt laid out with too much glitter poured over it. By the time we arrive at Rock Bottom, a crowd has already congested the entrance. Business is booming, but it won’t be for long—not with fall semester hanging over our heads like some scholastic guillotine. If we’re lucky maybe we’ll have this kind of business on the weekends, but then again the sororities and fraternities like to hold their own parties.
“Are you still upset?” Kendall slings her arm over my shoulder as we fight to make our way inside.
“What’s she upset about?” Cruise asks, genuinely interested.
I’m thankful Kendall hasn’t clued him in yet. That’s the thing with having girlfriends who are practically already married to their other half. It makes you wonder if any of your secrets are ever really safe.
“School’s coming up so fast.” I nod toward the club. “Morgan can’t stay.” I shake my head. “We haven’t really talked about it.” Who needs loose-lipped girlfriends when my own tongue betrays me? What’s next? Confessing to Cruise the fact I had debilitating cramps last week?
His lips twitch to the side. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. When two people care about each other as much as you and Morgan, things have a way of working themselves out.”
I expel a lungful of air. It was as if I were holding my breath and Cruise said the exact words I needed to hear to breathe again.
“You’re right.” I say it a little louder than necessary. “Things do have a way of working themselves out.” They had better, for my sanity’s sake.
We hit the entrance and Cal taps me on the arm. “Where’s that knuckleheaded boyfriend of yours?”
“Here, somewhere. And, by the way, the only knucklehead around here is you for not hatching this brilliant plan yourself.” I give an impish grin as I make my way past him. The place is pumping tonight with wall-to-wall bodies. I swear we’re breaking twelve different fire codes. Although, if we go down for something of the illegal variety, safety issues will be the least of our worries, what with the gambling ring, the quasi house of prostitution, the underage drinking as evidenced with Molly—tragically the list goes on and on. But still, something feels different about tonight. You can feel a whole new energy. It’s as if the tail end of summer has encouraged everyone in this room to let loose.
“Great news!” A female voice rides high behind me, and I turn to find Lauren with two drinks in hand.
“What’s that?” I gawk at the chocolate-looking vial with whipped cream ready to float off the top.
Kendall comes up behind her and holds up yet another whipped concoction.
“Blow jobs all around!” She raises a glass to me.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, accepting the potion with its obscene moniker.
“Do we need an occasion to get down and dirty?” Kendall hoots. “Tonight everybody parties!”
“That’s right, ladies.” Lauren wrinkles her nose. “And this will be the only time I swallow.” She hikes her drink into the air. “Actually”—she gives me a look that spells trouble—“I have a surprise for you.”
“For me?” Since when does Lauren dole out surprises?
“That’s right. I felt really bad about stranding you this summer and essentially leaving you without a place of your own.” She makes a face. “So…I went out and got you an off-campus apartment just east of sorority row. No worries about driving to all the hot parties, all you’ll have to do is carry those pretty little high heels.” She gives a quick wink.
“Lauren!” I squeal and give her a hug as best as I can without spilling the emissions of my glass. “You didn’t have to do this. You’re way too nice to me.”
“I had to.” She gives a long blink. “It came up so fast, I knew it’d be gone by afternoon so I snagged it. All I did was pay the first and last. And if you ever have a tough time with rent we can work something out. Besides, how often in life do you get to choose your neighbors?”
“Neighbors?” I try to contain the urge to jump but can’t seem to do it.
“Okay,” Lauren shouts over the music, trying to calm me. “Now we have a serious decision to make.” She holds the indelicately named drink out in front of her. “Do we use our hands? Or mouths?”
Kendall and I laugh and knock into one another in the process.
The cool liquid splashes over the front of my dress in one quick spurt.
“Oh shit.”
Lauren hacks out a laugh. “Looks like you’re the victim of a little premature ejaculation!”
Lauren and Kendall crack up like they’ve never laughed before. I guess there’s nothing a little crude humor and an apartment to call my own can’t fix because for the first time in weeks I’m in a celebratory mood. In fact, I wouldn’t mind a little climax myself. Speaking of which. Where is my own personal ejaculation station? Surely he’s ready and willing to please. Plus, I can’t wait to share the news that we finally got our own place!
Then it hits me, fast and furious: there is no we.
Morgan Jordan will be gone in a week.
The women’s restroom leaves a lot to be desired, three stalls that by the end of the night are the most sought-after seats in the house. But it’s still early and there’s nary a line so I walk in and inspect the white frothy stain on the front of my dress.
“Disgusting,” I say, plucking at the mess just above my stomach. I snatch a paper towel and embed the cream into the fabric. “Gross.” I let out a hard sigh.
“You are, aren’t you?” Blair pops up in the mirror like a ghost and begins adjusting the collar on her preppy dress. She’s wearing a single strand of pearls around her neck and a plaid headband in her neatly flat-ironed hair. Her fiscally sound fashion sense makes me want to stick my finger down my throat.
I wish I could say I’m not jealous of Blair—that her daddy’s money doesn’t make me wish I had a familial monetary IV injected into my bank account. In truth, a part of me is very much envious.
My new plan of action—the only plan of action—is to ignore her. After all, I did get to strip off her clothes and send her in a virtual mosh pit filled with horny frat boys. Rumor has it she made a lot more than sixteen dollars that night.
Her bitchy BFF, Erica, pops out of the stall and appraises me as if I were a parasite.
Lovely. Maybe walking around all night with a giant stain on the front of my dress isn’t that bad. In fact, accessorizing with real semen would be more pleasurable than occupying air space with Blair and her ditzy sidekick.
“So, I just had this wild sexual fantasy play out,” Blair coos to her partner in fictitious sexual crime while trying to entice me into listening in on their tawdry conversation. “I mean, there wasn’t much to it—just a trench coat and heels—but he didn’t mind. He says he likes it simple because the girl he’s with always tries too hard. She feels the need to overcompensate by wearing things she can’t afford. Pity because she cheapens everything she touches.”
My cheeks burn with heat.
“All right, Blair.” I pivot on my heels. “Obviously you weren’t with Morgan. You’re just trying to make me think you were so you can cause another misunderstanding like you did with Kendall and Cruise. Morgan wouldn’t cheat on me. Not tonight, and for damn sure, not with you.”
Her mouth opens as she feigns surprise. I can feel her hatred pulsating off my body as she rides her gaze over me.
“Oh, Ally, you flatter yourself.” She gives a snippy tight-lipped smile that makes me want to wring her neck. “I’m not trying to break anybody up. You see, Morgan and I have had this thing going ever since he came into town. Only we don’t kiss and tell. You want to know what he calls it?”
My brain wants to fire off some smartass comeback, but I’m t
oo pissed to think straight.
“Oh, I’d love to know.” I toss my hair back as obnoxious as possible. “Then I can compare it to what he calls you in private.” Not that he’s ever referenced her as anything other than what her mother felt moved to call her. Morgan is too much of a gentleman. Ironically, I distinctly remember Rutger referring to her as Horse Face. I guess money doesn’t buy you manners.
She leans in, her eyes on fire with a vicious level of joy.
“He calls me his dirty little secret.” Blair bites down on a blooming grin.
My body freezes, my adrenaline spikes—the next thing I know my hand connects with her cheek in a violent slap.
“You bitch!” Blair nurses her wound for a moment with her hair swept across her face.
Her hands spring to my shoulders. Blair pushes me into the sink and slams my head against the mirror.
“Shit,” I yell as a sharp pain travels through my spine.
Blair snatches me by the scalp. She yanks me down only to introduce my face to her knee.
I let out a guttural moan as she shoves me against the wall.
“Ask him,” she shouts. “Ask your precious little boyfriend whose body he was pressed against, loving with that animal tongue of his, just before the club opened?”
“What?” I glance up at her before gaining my footing.
“That’s right, Ally. It was just me and him, right there over the poker table, and it felt real good.” She holds herself as if reliving a memory. “But I don’t have to tell you. You already know how good he can make a girl feel. Or didn’t you get over your little problem? He told me all about your inability to—”
I don’t wait for her to finish. I charge her like a bull ready and willing to inflict some serious bodily injury. I don’t know how she did it, but she hit every sexual detail right on the head. As much as I’d like to cry bullshit, I can’t.
Maybe in the end the joke is on me. Maybe in the end, Morgan Jordan is nothing but a player, someone who barreled through Carrington one summer looking for a good time wherever he could get it.
I latch onto Blair and her brassy tresses with the skunk roots coming in, and knock her against the wall. A group of girls wander into the bathroom and scream as they witness the bruising.
“Say you didn’t sleep with him.” I grind the words through my teeth.
She tries to dislodge my grip, but I won’t relent.
“Erica!” she howls.
“Say it!” I shake her so hard I swear her hair is going to fall out in my hands like a bad Halloween wig.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Ally. I was with him!” she shrills.
I jostle her body as we tug and wrestle until we slam into an open stall.
“That’s it,” I mutter, maneuvering her head toward the water-filled basin.
Blair shoots off a few wild kicks my way like a mule in heat. Her fists pummel against my chest, but I’ll gladly accept the bruising in exchange for what’s coming next. I slam her head into the toilet seat and secure my knee between her shoulder blades.
“Take it all back, and I’ll let go.” My heart thrashes against my chest. Blair Lancaster has gotten under my skin for the very last fucking time.
She looks up with a wicked sense of determination. “We did it just before the club opened.” Her lips curve with a devious smile. “The last thing he said was, thank God you’re not boring like Ally.”
“Crap.” It takes all of my strength to submerge her successfully. I hold her under, a good few seconds, before flushing the toilet with my elbow.
Blair rises with a bionic strength and bolts over to the sink. She sticks her head under the running water, screaming at the top of her lungs for antibiotics.
Pfft. Like that’s going to cure her of the bitch virus that’s been plaguing her since childhood.
“Go ahead and scald your face, Blair. You might melt that ugly scowl off and actually score some friends who would help you out in a bind,” I say, shooting Erica a look before I head back into the club.
Now—to find my cheating boyfriend.
Morgan
I’m one hand away from taking good old Rutger and his highbrow pals to the cleaners when Ally stomps in with her hair a little wilder than I’m used to.
I blink a quick smile up at her and get back to my cards.
Damn, the girl is hot.
“I’m out.” Pennington tosses in his hand and shakes his head.
Nice. The fact I just financially spanked Cruise’s little brother is just an added bonus to the mayhem that’s about to ensue.
Ally gives a pressured tap on my shoulder. “I need to speak with you.”
“Just one second, babe.” I nod without taking my eyes off Rutger. His cable-knit sweater is knotted around his neck despite the fact we’re in the middle of a tropical heat wave. Everything about him spells douche.
“I’m sorry, but this can’t wait.” Her voice trembles, catching me off guard.
I glance up. Her eyes are filling with tears faster than I can swipe the change from the preppies’ pockets.
Crap.
“What happened?” I try to sound discreet, holding my hand close to my chest.
“You tell me what happened.” Her voice is so loud it cauterizes my eardrums.
“You mind?” Rutger barks up at her. “Step the fuck out, Ally. Save the girl drama for later.”
“Hey, dude, don’t talk to her like that.” I say it low, trying not to set him off since we’re moments from a monetary exchange that can have the same life-altering effects as a lotto win.
“You don’t talk to me like that.” He says it cool, plucking through his deck without bothering to look up. “I’ll talk to my girl any way I please.” He shifts the toothpick in his mouth from one end to the other.
“My girl, huh?” I huff because I know it’s not true. “Not in my club you won’t.” My blood starts to boil. As soon as I clear the table of all the green I’m going to strangle the shit out of good ol’ Rutger here and make it look like an accident.
He huffs a quiet laugh as if he heard and accepted the challenge.
“You don’t own this place, Jordan—my friends and I do.” His eyes rest heavy over mine. There’s a haughty air about him that affirms the fact this guy is a terminal asshole. “I can have you shut down in ten minutes. You’ve got no liquor license. You’re violating some serious gambling codes. And I’m pretty sure prostitution is still illegal in Carrington County.” He smears a shit-eating grin across his face. “You’re trash, Jordan, just like your girlfriend.” He glances up at Ally and winks.
I flip the table over, landing the four of them flat on their designer asses.
Ally screams as if the building were about to blow up.
Pen and his buddies instigate a money grab, but I skip the currency and go for the gold instead. I pick Rutger up by his pretty pink collar and drag him across the room in one quick pull.
“The only piece of trash I see is you.” I grind it through my teeth.
“Morgan, no!” Ally screams as if I’m about to commit a felony, and I just might.
With everything in me I want to smash his ugly mug in, kick him in the nuts for even thinking about Ally that way.
I thrash his ass against the wall and get into his slobbering face.
“Ally is a person,” I hiss, nose to nose. “She’s got feelings just like everybody else. She’s never hurt anybody or bullied them, and that’s exactly what you and your friends seem to get off on. Just because you have a couple of dollars to rub together doesn’t mean you get to treat people like shit. None of your friends are real and the only chicks you’ll ever score will be there for the bonus. Nobody will ever want you for who you are because nobody likes a lying sack of shit.” I push him out the door and watch as he stumbles into a wall.
The room dra
ins, leaving Ally with a semi-pissed look on her face.
I shut the door and barricade it with a chair.
“You wanted to talk?” I pick up the table and spot a stack of cards pinned beneath it. I let out a little laugh. “Well. looky here.” I hold it up for her to see. “They were taking me for a ride all along. The rich-boys club wasn’t giving away a dime of their daddies’ money tonight.”
Ally doesn’t lose her hard edge, that unwavering cold look.
“Were you with Blair Lancaster tonight?” She cuts me the death stare and lets me know my balls are up for the skewer.
Shit. I think I know where this is headed so I opt for the truth.
“Yes.”
Her face smooths out; her features bleach, pale as plaster.
“Yes?” Her mouth contorts, disbelieving.
“Let me guess.” I step forward and wrap my arms around her waist, but she’s quick to push me away. I pull back and hold out my hands like a common street criminal. “Okay, it looks like I’m right. Whatever the hell she said to you I swear it was a lie. In fact, why don’t I give you my version first, and you can compare and contrast. I’ve got no problem with that since I have nothing to hide.”
“Let’s hear it, Jordan.” Ally takes a seat on the edge of the table and folds her arms tight across her chest. Her body language alone lets me know I can go screw myself. And if I want to get laid, I might just have to.
“Okay. I got here early, and noticed a light on, right here in this room.”
She makes a face like she might be sick.
“I assumed I left it on, but I came over to check it out just in case there was some idiot milling around.” I pause, trying to remember in detail what happened next. “I opened the door and Blair was standing here in her coat. She dropped trou and was naked as a jaybird. Believe me, Ally, I’ve seen skeletons at Halloween that were more attractive than what she was trying to offer.” She gives a little laugh. “Then,” I continue, “she said, ‘You’re welcome,’ and slammed into me. I immediately jumped back and told her to get the fuck out.”
Someone Like You Page 22