Sweet Rome (Sweet Home)

by Tillie Cole

  “Rome!” Ally warned quietly beside me, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had a burning desire to fuck her off after calling me that bastard name so maliciously.

  “I mean, look at the voting analogy you gave: greatest good for the greatest number of people. You mentioned how it was considered good for society, as most people would be happy with the result, but all I see are flaws. What if the ‘majority’ of the people voting are bad or have ill intent and the minority are innocent, and good people are put in danger due to the fact that they’re outnumbered? What if the person you voted in has ulterior motives and goes back on what they said they would do?”

  She opened her mouth to butt in, but I kept going, raising my voice even louder so she couldn’t stop me in my tirade.

  “Look at Hitler. He was elected by a democratic vote, and for a time, he was what was right for the majority of the people who were living in poverty with no real hope. But look how that ended… I’m just saying that although it seems good in theory, the practical side don’t really pan out, now does it?”

  I tipped my chin arrogantly, challenging her to step up her game. Leaving the protection of the lectern, she marched forward, purposefully walking up the first two steps toward me, her hair bouncing, long brown strands falling into her eyes.

  “For a start, do me the honor of letting me finish before rudely interrupting.” Her teeth were gritted together and her eyes alight with ire. “What I agree with is the idea that individuals do, in many situations, live for pleasure over pain, at least for the most part. Surely you’d agree with that, Mr. Oh-so-fantastic QB. Don’t you make the majority of your decisions based on your illustrious football career, something that brings you pleasure?”

  So she was going to go for the jugular, try and bring me down. I wondered what the fuck I’d done to deserve her wrath. “You’re right, I do, but I also do it for the spectators, for my teammates. They find joy in football, unlike some,” I said pointedly.

  Her hands landed on her hips. “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning that in Alabama, Shakespeare, football is the greatest pleasure there is—playing it, watching it, coaching it. My training and therefore my success benefits both me and others. You seem to be the only one who don’t like it.”

  Her lips twitched and a victorious smile settled on her face. “Then you’ve proved me right. In Alabama, the greatest good for the greatest number of people is football, as it brings pleasure to the majority of the population.”

  “In this respect, you may be right, but it’s not always that simple.”

  “Go on,” she said, her arms folded under her chest, her foot tapping loudly against the wooden stairs.

  “You talk about individuals doing things for pleasure and to avoid pain, things they dislike?”

  “Yes.”

  “But many individuals do things that cause themselves pain or displeasure to suit other peoples’ wants and desires.” She should’ve gotten that reference. Christ, she’d been the only person I’d ever confided in. Only she knew about the pressure from my folks to marry Shelly and do their bidding. I’d be damned if I was going to let her start spouting it back at me in front of total strangers.

  “Oh, I’m not sure they’re always that painful—doing certain things or certain acts that others want, I mean.” Yeah. She was going to go there, and I almost snapped the desk in rage.

  “Be completely clear, Shakespeare. What you getting at?” I gripped onto the pencil like it was a stress ball.

  “Well, let’s use sex, for example. One of the two people partaking in the act might want it more, and the second person may be altogether quite indifferent in their affections, but the second person ultimately gives in and does it anyway to make the first person happy. However—and herein lies the irony—the one that is unhappy still finds sexual release. Therefore, that party doesn’t really experience displeasure at all. Do they?”

  Shit. Realization hit. This was about Shelly. She thought I’d fucked Shelly the night we talked on the balcony, and she clearly didn’t like it.

  The pencil in my fingers snapped, along with my patience and tolerance for Molly’s public form of revenge… And for something I didn’t fucking do! She wanted to air all the dirty laundry? Then I’d air it the fuck out.

  “Or how about a person decides it would be a good idea to kiss another, due to some weird, unexplainable pull, but then, in hindsight, decides it was a fuckin’ mistake? That they spoke about personal things for the first time ever with someone different, someone new, thinking, Maybe I can trust this person with knowing the real me? Only to realize that what you did was stupid and should never have happened at all. Cementing that people are just one big ol’ disappointment!” I ran my hands through my hair, letting the now-shredded pencil fall to the floor.

  “Jeez, Rome,” Ally whispered from beside me, her sympathetic gaze falling on Molly. I lifted my eyes to see what had her so upset. Molly was still standing on the second stair, eyes watering, complete embarrassment in her stance. Shit! How the fuck had all that just happened? It was meant to be a stupid debate, not a full-on verbal massacre. Fuck, but the girl could rile me—in more ways than one.

  Golden eyes quickly left mine, and she glanced at the clock, announcing quietly, “Next seminar will look at Bentham’s personal notes. The essential reading is on the course outline. Class dismissed.”

  Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I raced down the stairs, not even looking at Molly at her desk, the need to get the hell out of the stifling room taking precedence over everything else. Shelly stormed past me, almost taking off my shoulder in the process, and the other classmates scurried past with hurried whispers. Walking to the corner of the hallway, I leaned against the wall, breathing deeply.

  A light cough broke through my daze. “What?” I said, knowing it was Ally.

  “You okay?” she asked softly.

  Opening my eyes, I laughed sarcastically. “Fuckin’ peachy! I love my personal life being the subject of the UA rumor mill.”

  She stared at me for a while before shaking her head. “I need to get to my next class. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Shut up, Al.”

  “I mean it. I know you’re waiting for her.” I was. Shakespeare and I needed to have a private little talk about how to keep a fucking secret.

  “Look, Rome, I’ve become real close to that girl lately. Heck, she’s become one of my closest friends. I don’t want you giving her a hard time, you hear? She’s not used to the likes of you. Hurt her and you’ll have me to deal with!”

  Crossing my arms without giving a response, I dropped my gaze, watching Ally’s feet as she marched away with a frustrated sigh.

  Two minutes later, Shakespeare walked out of the classroom and, instantly, I was in her face. “What the fuck was that all about?”

  Her shock at my presence was obvious in her huge eyes and the rhythm of her stuttered breath.

  “You were rude,” she said sternly, checking all around us.

  We were alone, I’d made certain of it. This was between her and me.

  “I was debating. That’s what you do in philosophy. You made it personal.” I could hear the rough edge to my voice, but Molly wasn’t intimidated, just stood tall, meeting me glare for glare.

  “So did you!” She hit back, her face flushing with anger.

  Could she not see what she’d done? How she’d brought me to the brink of losing it in front a class with her words…? With that fucking name?

  “Why did you bring up the other night? What I talked about was in confidence. I told you things I’ve never told another living person and you threw it back at me in a public class?” I closed in, smelling that damn vanilla scent of her… What? Her hair, her skin? God, it was driving me insane. Up this close, I noticed more about her, like how her skin was perfect, not one mark or blemish, and her eyes had a strange shade of caramel around the iris. Jesus, I was furious but wanted nothing more than to take her against the wall. Fuck her into subm
ission. Fuck her until she learned to not cross me again.

  I refocused my mind and said, “I put my trust in you and you dredge it up in your lecture for your own fuckin’ smartass gain?”

  My jaw clenched as she rolled her eyes and laughed. “Confidence, my arse! The whole college knows you use girls for sex, which, quite honestly, makes me feel sick.”

  She’d just earned strike one.

  “From what I saw the other night with her, you did then too, after you confided to me that you didn’t like her, after you connected so deeply with me. “

  Strike two.

  “Where’s the morality in that? Couldn’t resist her open legs I take it?”

  Fucking strike three!

  Completely losing my mind, I backed Molly against the wall and into a dark corner. We were completely hidden from view. Inching closer, I asked, “Why do you care who I fuck? What’s it to you?” Anger was quickly being replaced by lust, the two blurring in my mind. Her heavy breathing and the goose bumps on her skin were only goading me further.

  She may not have realized it, but Molly couldn’t take her gaze off my lips. “It isn’t anything to me,” she said between gritted teeth, but those hooded eyes gave me all the indication I needed. She fucking wanted me too but couldn’t just come out and say it, could she? No, Mol was content to push every damn button I had.

  I slapped my hand against the wall, edging in closer, to the point that we were almost touching. “You’re lying.”

  Her firm tits pressed against my chest as she hissed, “I’m not lying. It has nothing to do with me who you fuck, as you so eloquently put it!”

  “Bullshit! I don’t fuckin’ believe you!” I spat out as she hit my chest, and I tried once again. “I said I don’t believe you! Tell me why the fuck you care and don’t fuckin’ lie!” I felt her hands brush my stomach, almost causing me to moan out loud.

  “Fine!” she screamed. “I care because you kissed me! You kissed me like you had no other choice, dammit! I don’t like being just another plaything when I trusted you with me. I never do that and now I remember exactly why!”

  Now we were getting somewhere.

  “For your information, I didn’t screw her. In fact, I told her in no uncertain terms that I was done for good. What you’d said to me made sense… about living my own life. You got through to me. You… affected me. And get this straight… you are no one’s plaything, Shakespeare. I may fuck around, but I wouldn’t fuck around on you.”

  Those damn lips opened again, but I’d had enough of her shit so I laid my finger over her mouth, trapping her in my hold. “You’re brave, Shakespeare, speaking to me like this. I don’t… tolerate it from anyone. People around here know not to approach me. They have the sense to leave things alone.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she asked, “Are you threatening me?”

  My cock was iron-stiff, my tether about to snap, but this small English chick was taking me on like a gladiator.

  “Not threatening, Shakespeare, commending. I’m finding you and that mouth of yours a real turn-on. But I’m more interested in teaching you how to keep it shut.”

  Her body was betraying her; I caught the swallow of her throat and the squirming of her thighs. She liked the way I was being with her, and the thought that this Miss Goody Two-Shoes might actually like me like this was only driving me more insane.

  “Save that kind of talk for when you screw Shelly again,” she snapped.

  “I told you I didn’t fuckin’ touch her!” I tried to say calmly, but it came out as more of a low growl.

  “That’s not what she’s been saying.” Her voice was getting breathy; she was losing the hard-ass front she’d adopted.

  Both calmer now, I tried to make her understand how I was feeling. “I couldn’t care less what she says. I thought you were different, Mol. Why make a dig about Shelly or football after what I’d told you I was going through?”

  Sucking in a sharp breath, she began rubbing at her temples. “Look, I’m just in a crappy mood. I shouldn’t have come at you like that and I apologize for betraying your confidence. It was bad manners on my part. I was pissed off at you, have been pissed off at you for days. I don’t know how to be around you. You… confuse me.”

  Talk about conflicted. I was so pissed at her for that earlier performance, but I craved her. I had no idea why, but I’d never wanted a chick like her before, every fiber of my being screaming at me to take her, possess her. As my mind swirled with these thoughts, my grip on her momentarily loosened, and she attempted to slip past me.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I snapped.

  “I’m leaving. I’m done with this… done with us and whatever the hell just happened.”

  Done? She wasn’t done. We were just getting started.

  When she tried to wiggle past me again, I gave up my restraint and growled, “You’re fucking driving me insane, Shakespeare!” And grabbing her tightly around the back of her neck, I smashed those fucking pouting lips against mine.

  Shit it felt good.

  I ate at her mouth, devoured everything she had like a starving man at a feast. My tongue relentlessly explored, and she welcomed everything I gave. She was perfect, this was perfect, and I was becoming more than a little obsessed.

  I heard the thud of her books as she threw them to the floor and felt her hands grip the loose material of my shirt. I was taking her and she was taking me right back. She wanted this as much as me.

  I was a man possessed. Gripping her tightly around her arms, I thrust her against the wall, my cock pressing against her pussy, grinding, and groaning against her mouth. She expelled a loud moan, and suddenly, reality came crashing back. I was mauling Mol in a friggin’ hallway.

  Dread built in my stomach. I was supposed to avoid doing shit like this, get through this year with ease. Molly was proving to be a huge fucking distraction. On the one hand, I wanted to taste more of her, but on the other, I wanted her to stay really fucking far away.

  I expelled an angry groan. “Fuck, Mol, why can’t I get you outta my head? You’re all I fuckin’ think about and I don’t know how to deal.”

  She looked stunning: face flushed, lips swollen, eyes bright with need. “You do?” she whispered, and I could see she liked those words that were stupidly spilling out of my mouth.

  “Every minute. Of. Every. Day.”

  Thrusting my hands behind my head, I watched as she began to gather her things, preparing to leave. We needed to clear up this shit between us, whatever the heck it was.

  “I don’t know what to do about you. It’s rattling me and I don’t like it. I’ve never gotten like this over some girl.” I cursed myself for saying that. This was Molly I was talking about, not some groupie slut. “But I don’t think you’re just some girl. I’ve thought that from the minute I saw you all flustered in the hall on the first day of classes. Christ, I haven’t been able to taste anything but you since we kissed at the damn initiation.”

  I waited for her response, but instead, she took off, running, shouting back, “I-I n-need to get to the library.”

  I almost punched the wall as her tight ass ran away from me as fast as possible. I started to follow but decided to just let her go and made myself stand still. I watched her bluster away, but when she shyly glanced back, I assured her, “This is far from over, Shakespeare… far from fuckin’ over!” And then she was gone, leaving me pent up with anger, confused to all hell, and stuck with the biggest hard-on I’d ever had in my life.

  Molly Shakespeare was going to kill me.

  7

  Fayetteville, Arkansas

  “Shit, Bullet, that chick can’t take her eyes off you!” Reece said excitedly.

  Lifting my head from my beer, I checked out the attractive blonde, catching her inviting smile but shaking my head in dismissal.

  Jimmy-Don put his hand to my head, pretending to check my temperature. “You feeling all right?”

  With a smile, I said, “Yeah, just no
t interested.”

  “You sure you’re all right?” This time he was serious. His mouth gaped open and he stared at me in shock. I just nodded my head slowly in response and tapped my beer to his, laughing.

  “How can you not be interested in that? She’s a freakin’ goddess!” Reece complained, getting up off the couch, walking across the room and trying his luck with the blonde.

  “Fifty bucks says she knocks him back,” Austin said with a smile as he nudged my arm.

  “Hell, she ain’t going to touch him. She’s a nine. He’s… not. I’d just be giving my money away taking that bet.”

  Jimmy-Don shuffled forward on the couch, hand held out. “Hey now, give him a chance. He’ll be first-string QB next year. Heck, Rome, he’ll be you! I’ll take the bet… from you both.”

  The three of us sat back and watched Reece as he strutted up to the blonde, cocky as all shit. She glanced over his shoulder at me, but whatever Reece said had her slumping where she stood and her “fuck me” smile falling off her face.

  He worked the talk good, whispering in her ear, touching her cheek and her bare arm with his fingers.

  Austin gaped at me, clearly thinking the same thought: the little fucker was in.

  The blonde ran her hand down his chest, then, taking his hand, began leading him out of the room. Reece glanced back at us, the biggest damn grin on his face, and then disappeared upstairs.

  “Whew! I knew it!” Jimmy-Don howled and, facing Austin and me, said, “Pay up, bitches!” with a shit-eating grin.

  Shaking my head, I reached into my pocket, pulling out a fifty, Austin doing the same, and we each slapped it into Jimmy-Don’s outstretched hand. “I never thought I’d see the day when he scored on his own.”

  “He’s been watching you—on the field, off the field—like a damn hawk. He’s gonna be friggin’ dangerous next year,” Jimmy-don said jokingly and moved off the couch to join some of our teammates heading to the backyard for food.

  We were at a house party courtesy of one of the players’ cousins from the Hogs. It was the usual—pussy on demand, liquor flowing—but what was unusual was that I didn’t have an ounce of fucking interest in any of it, too busy wondering what Molly was up to back home, too busy wondering if she’d seen my shit show of a game.