I just can’t seem to help myself.
Ever since Sunday, there have been all these thoughts rolling around in the back of my head and they just won’t go away. No matter how hard I try to banish them.
“What if I wasn’t interested in just a quick fuck?”
Dylan picks up forty pound weights and starts bicep curling. “What the hell are you saying? That you suddenly want a relationship?” He snorts as if that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard come out of my mouth.
And maybe it is. After all, I’ve never been interested in being tied down before and hell, I’m not even sure I want to be tied down now. But I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t stop thinking about how nice it felt to spend the day with her.
I liked knowing she needed me. That me being there actually made things a little easier to deal with. And I liked wrapping my arms around her and making sure she was okay. The situation had all these protective instincts surging to life within me. I’ve never felt that way before.
“Maybe.”
Dylan just shakes his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Dude, stop trying to make me laugh, I’m working out here.”
My brows draw together as I pick up weights. Fifty pound ones. Fuck that guy. Feeling absurdly aggravated, I slowly curl my weights up towards my chest. “Maybe I do want a girlfriend. What’s wrong with that?”
The smile drops clean off his face and he’s back to giving me the stink eye. “Because you’re only interested in nailing as much pussy as you can.” Before I can argue, he continues, “And that’s fine. Hell, I applaud your efforts to plow your way through the female population at Barnett.” He smirks. “If I had your pretty face, I’d be doing the same damn thing.”
Why those words piss me off so much, I don’t know. But they do.
Big time.
“They all want a piece of you before you hit the bigtime.” His voice turns just a tad shitty as he sneers, “They all want to fuck the King of Campus.”
My eyes narrow but I don’t say a word. Dylan and I are bros. We have each other’s back. And we’ve been friends since freshman year orientation. But I know his dream is to play in the NFL just like mine is. Although his future looks a little murkier than mine does. A few scouts have shown interest but he hasn’t generated nearly the amount of attention as I have. Plus, he suffered from a shoulder injury last year that I suspect still bothers him. Every so often, I catch a fleeting glimpse of pain on his face when he thinks no one is looking. I also know he sees the trainer for cortisone shots.
So, even though we’re friends, I think there’s a little bit of frustration that my rise has been seemingly easier than his. I’ve never been hurt. Nor have I ever had to sit out for any length of time to recover. And playing football is like second nature to me. It’s more of a natural instinct. I just get it. I can look at the field and think a few steps ahead. It’s kind of like playing a faster paced chess game. It’s that ability which has thrusted me to the top of my college football career. And people have sat up and taken notice of it. Especially scouts and coaches.
Dylan doesn’t seem to have developed that skill or it’s just not as intrinsic as it is for me.
Instead of tackling the real issue sitting between us, I merely say, “You got your share before meeting Lexie, if I recall.”
He grunts before admitting, “Yep.”
“So, I’m not sure what your point is.”
Glancing over, he skewers me with a cutting glare. “The point is that I don’t want you messing around with Ivy. Steer clear of her. You’re not after anything more than a piece of ass for the night. You’re not the relationship type, King. So find your kicks elsewhere. I don’t need you fucking up my relationship with Lexie so you can nail some chick because she isn’t falling onto her back and spreading her legs wide for you.”
Instead of jumping down his throat like I want to do, I look away while continuing to curl my fifty pound weights. I’m so pissed at what’s spewing from his mouth, that I’ve lost count of my reps. Gritting my teeth, I start all over again.
After five minutes of uncomfortable silence, Dylan starts yapping about something else entirely and because I don’t want there to be a problem between us, I let go of my anger. I mean, Dylan is probably right. My interest in Ivy has to be because no one ever turns me down. That’s probably why she’s been occupying so many of my thoughts. Maybe I just need to get laid and then everything else will fall neatly back into place and I can spend my time concentrating on football and classes and less time thinking about Ivy Kaster.
See?
This is exactly the problem with becoming involved with females. You spend way too much damn time thinking about things that aren’t important all the while losing sight of the goals you’ve set for yourself.
I can’t allow myself to lose focus.
Not when I have everything to lose.
Chapter Seventeen
Hmmm, is it just me or is our legendary wide receiver, Roan King, not spreading around the love like he used to? What’s up with that? All I know is that there are an awful lot of sexually deprived women out there clamoring for a little Roan King. If you’re reading this, RK, be a dear and give us what we want… KingOfCampus.com
Sipping our drinks, we slowly meander our way down the sidewalk of a local outdoor mall. Lexie has three bags in hand. I have zero. There are a few reasons for this. One- nothing interesting has caught my eye. And two- I don’t have the money to throw away on useless crap I really don’t need. Although my dad did shove a hundred dollars into my hand when Roan and I were leaving his house on Sunday. Feeling slightly stunned by the gesture, I tried giving it back but he wouldn’t take it. I figure I’ll sock it away in case of an emergency.
“Let’s stop in here.”
We walk into a lacy underwear store and right away she starts rifling through the racks. I have enough underwear, so I don’t bother looking for anything until a sexy little bra and panty set in pale pink lacy captures my attention.
Before I even realize it, I’m walking over to the rack and staring at it for a long minute. It’s seriously the most gorgeous little confection I’ve ever seen. Sheer and delicate are the best ways to describe the material. It would pretty much reveal just about everything but damn, you’d look hot wrapped up in it.
Lexie sidles up beside me. “Oh, you definitely have to try that on.”
Almost immediately I start shaking my head. I mean, it’s not like I have anyone to wear it for...
As much as I try keeping his gorgeous face from materializing in my head, it does. I have the feeling that Roan King will be the death of me.
“Why not?” Lexie pulls the set off the hook before inspecting it more closely. “It’ll be fun, come on.”
I cock an eyebrow grasping desperately at any straw that will get me out of this. “Trying on something that will only emphasis the fact that I have zero curves for it to cling to isn’t my idea of fun.” I throw my arms up before glancing down at my body. Like I said before, I’m fine with not having a curvy little body but having to look at myself in something that’s supposed to showcase that nonexistent form will only drive home the point.
And do I really need that?
Nope, I don’t.
Lexie has about four different bras in her hand. And I would bet money they’re all D cups. That girl has curves galore. She looks like a sex bomb just waiting to go off and she’s extremely good at playing up her finer assets. That’s one reason she’s so driven to go into fashion design. There are so many styles out there for women who are slender. If you’re tall and thin, you can pretty much wear anything and look fabulous doing it. But what if you’re shorter with a lot of curves? What then? Lexie has actually designed a few outfits for herself and I can’t believe just how flattering and professional they look.
She checks the size before shoving it at my chest. “This should fit you perfectly.” Then she herds me towards a narrow hallway. Because I know when to pick my battles, I allow Lexie
to corral me into a fitting room. She disappears into the one right next to mine.
“Don’t think I’ll be showing you what this looks like,” I grumble under my breath. Not that I’m shy about my body, because I’m not. I’ve spent my entire life working out religiously in a dance studio. Every line and muscle has been elongated and perfectly sculpted. Plus, I’m always wearing tight leotards that are made of body hugging Lycra. I’ve also had my fair share of seamstresses run their hands over me, taking measurements. Not to mention changing costumes in front of other dancers. When you dance, that’s just the way it is. After a while, you stop being self-conscious.
Stripping out of my shirt and jeans, I leave my panties on while unclasping my bra. Then I pull on the frothy pale pink thong before clasping the bra and sliding it into place. I would expect the material to feel scratchy and uncomfortable. Surprisingly, it doesn’t. It’s actually quite comfortable. Almost holding my breath, I lift my eyes to the large mirror in the little box of a room before forcing myself to take a long look.
God, this makes me… it almost makes me…
Before I can fully wrap my mind around what I’m seeing, Lexie barges into the room without knocking or giving me any damn warning at all. I’m so struck by the sight in front of me, that I don’t bother covering myself. And, well, it’s not like she hasn’t seen me naked a hundred times before. We’ve been friends since fourth grade and lived together freshman year. We both have the same equipment. Although granted, Lexie is much softer and feminine looking than I am.
Her feet grind to a halt in the open doorway before her eyes nearly pop right out of her head. “Oh my god, you look amazing,” she finally breathes.
I can’t help the way my lips bow up at the compliment. I’m not usually one to self-congratulate myself or anything like that but, I think she just might be right. Because even I think the pale pink bra and panty set is absolutely gorgeous.
And it makes me look-
“I can’t believe it- you actually have tits and an ass!” This is stated with much exaggeration as if she wasn’t quite sure before this very moment.
I smother a chuckle as I turn this way and that, trying to check out this apparent ass I now have. Getting a good look in the mirror, I can’t help but notice that she’s right.
I have an ass!
I’m the proud owner of a bootie.
A passing sales girl stops before taking a look at me. “Oh, honey, you’d better buy that little number, the man in your life will thank you for it.” She gives me a cheeky grin before moving on.
Unfortunately that comment is all the reminder I need not to buy this gorgeous little set. I mean, why would I? I don’t have a man in my life. And I can’t see that changing any time soon.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Lexie begins. When my eyes shoot to hers in silent question, she continues, “You don’t need a man in order to treat yourself to something that makes you feel beautiful and sexy.” She flicks her hand in my direction. “And obviously that stunning piece of barely-there-lace makes you feel both. You should definitely buy it.”
Almost immediately I start shaking my head. What’s the point? It’s not like I’m going to buy this and stand around in front of a mirror admiring myself. Okay, so I might actually do that a few times but still…
“If I looked that hot, I’d wear it every freaking day just to boost my self-confidence.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t need to boost your self-confidence.”
She grins. “Neither one of us do. But I can also tell that you feel sexy in it and that my friend, is worth its weight in gold.” Before I can deny what she’s saying, she barrels on, “Listen, your birthday is coming up, and that’s what I’m buying for you.”
My shoulders droop at her words as my eyes slide back to the mirror.
“That bra does wonders for your boobs.” She snorts. “It actually makes you look like you have some.”
I can’t argue with that. It really does. I’m a B cup. Somehow this gives the illusion of a C cup. Or a really full B. My hands go to the undersides of my breasts trying to figure out what exactly is going on. “I guess it’s kind of a push up bra.” It’s pushing things from the sides to create cleavage, the tricky little bugger.
She nods. “My advice is to invest in more of them. A push up bra is clearly your best friend.” Then she grins. “Other than me, of course.”
Not that I’m going to tell Lexie this, but, more often than not, I just wear a basic black sports bra that flattens the girls out even more than they already are. It’s super comfortable and I’ve just never bothered with anything else. This little get up is a real departure from what I normally wear. Which kind of makes me want to own it.
“Okay,” I finally give in.
She claps her hands together in obvious delight.
“But I’m buying it.”
“I’ll buy it for your birthday,” she tries cutting in.
I shake my head. “Nope. You’re right, I love it. I’m going to splurge even though I don’t have anyone to wear it for.”
She arches a brow. “Clothes are meant to make the person wearing them feel good about themselves. If you feel amazing, that’s what matters.”
Well, this little bra and panty set does make me feel amazing. So, I guess she’s right. That decided, I’m ready to get changed. “Alright, out,” I say, pointing towards the hallway.
Obviously proud of herself for talking me into something I normally wouldn’t buy, Lexie gives me a huge smile before closing the door behind her. Five minutes later, I’m back in my own panties and sports bra. And feeling none too sexy about it either.
“So did you find anything?”
Lexie holds up three bras in a spectrum of different colors along with three matching panties. As we move towards the sales counter, I take a quick peek at the price tag and nearly gasp. So much for saving the money my father gave me last Sunday.
But Lexie’s right- I love the way I look in the matching set and I may not have anyone to wear it for, but that’s okay. After we’ve been rung up, we take our purchases and continue walking down the sidewalk.
After a few moments, I realize Lexie has grown quiet. Not that she’s normally an incessant chatterbox, because she’s not, but she usually isn’t silent either. As I think about it, I realize she’s been a little off today.
“Everything okay, Lex?”
We pass by two storefronts before she finally turns a small smile my way. “Yep, it’s all good. I just have something on my mind, but it’s probably nothing.”
My brows draw together at her words. If something’s bothering her, I’m surprised she hasn’t already shared it with me. “What’s going on?”
There’s a tiny little park with some playground equipment for small children along with a few park benches. Finding one that’s empty, we both sit before setting our bags down. When she doesn’t immediately launch into what’s going on, I decide to nudge her along.
“So fill me in.”
Her whole body deflates as she nibbles her lower lip. Instead of beating around the bush, she just comes out with it. “About two weeks ago when Dylan and I were having sex,” she pauses as her voice lowers, “the condom broke.”
My eyes widen just a bit as I nod my head in understanding. The only thing worse than a ripped condom is a positive pregnancy test. “What does Dylan think?”
She hesitates for just a beat. “Well, he obviously knows the condom broke. And honestly, I wasn’t all that concerned when it happened, but I’m pretty sure I should have gotten my period by now.”
“So you haven’t told him you’re worried?”
Again she bites her lip before shrugging her shoulders. It’s just a tiny movement. “I was going to wait until I was sure,” her troubled eyes flicker towards mine, “one way or the other.”
I can see the anxiety eating away at her and it makes me feel bad that she’s been dealing with this all by herself. “Should we buy a home pregnancy test? Or maybe go to a
clinic?” Slipping my phone from my pocket, I glance down at it. “It’s still early, if you want, we can head over to the clinic on campus right now.”
It takes a moment before she finally admits, “I bought a test yesterday but I haven’t taken it yet. I think you have to wait until you’ve actually missed a period and I never keep very good track of it. It just feels like I should have gotten it by now.”
I nod because I’ve been guilty of the very same thing. I don’t always keep track of my monthly bill. Of course, I haven’t exactly been having sex… at all… so it seems kind of pointless to keep track of things.
“If you’re not sure, then maybe you’re not even late. Maybe you’re just nervous about the condom breaking and the stress is throwing your body off.” I’m trying to think of any plausible situation other than the obvious.
She glances towards the equipment where a few small children are running around and playing. Their loud happy voices drift over to us. I’m instantly reminded of Nora and Nolan. “I guess. But I also feel like my boobs are achy and I read that’s a sign of pregnancy.”
My brows draw together as I carefully consider her words. “Yeah, but I think that can also be a sign you’re going to get your period.” Trying to come up with a solid plan, I think about what would make me feel better if I were in the same predicament. “We should just go home and take the test. If it’s negative, then we’ll wait a few days. If you still don’t get your period, then we’ll get another test or go to the clinic.”
She stares off for a moment or two before finally giving a little nod of her head. “Okay.”
Without further words, we both get up, walking towards the parking lot. Our mood is so much more somber than it had been in the lingerie shop or even before that. But I’m glad she finally told me what was going on. I’m glad I’m here at Barnett, able to lend her my support. This is really the first time since getting back from Paris that I’ve felt this way.
Finding her silver Jetta, we drive back to the apartment in silence. Now that she doesn’t have to pretend everything is alright, she’s seems distracted and worried.
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