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The Firsts Series Box Set

Page 118

by M. J. Fields


  One leans over and says, “Logan Links doesn’t do friends.”

  “No, just one-night stands,” Elle replies sarcastically.

  “So, you’re saying that, when he carried you out of Sound, you didn’t fuck him?” A different blonde laughs.

  “I was a little more concerned with breathing,” Elle informs them condescendingly.

  “See? She’s into him,” the other says.

  “No, I was in near anaphylactic shock, caused by a peanut allergy.”

  When they just look confused, I can’t help laughing.

  “He took her to the hospital,” Lisa speaks super slow as she clarifies.

  “You were at the game with his family today,” the one with lipstick on her teeth seethes.

  I pipe in, “His dad, number 12, Lucas Links, he invited us.”

  She points at Elle. “Because she’s fucking him.”

  Elle laughs. “Sweetie, I wouldn’t fuck him with your vagina.”

  The first one cackles. “Oh please, his dick is legendary.”

  “Is that so?” Elle asks.

  “Like huge,” another says, holding her hands out wide.

  “I hate to break it to you, but he pissed outside his truck before taking me to the hospital. You know the one that’s jacked-up off the ground screaming overcompensating! And, well, since I heard the same, I had to look.” When they lean in, she holds up her pinky. “Myth busted. It’s tiny.”

  “No,” one gasps.

  I have to bite the inside of my damn mouth to stop from laughing.

  The blonde in the blue shirt crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t believe you.”

  Elle shrugs. “I don’t really care.”

  “Why on earth would everyone else but you say it’s huge?” she asks.

  “Maybe because they don’t want to look like scorned hookers after a lousy lay that they spent way too much time preparing for, only to be in a room”—she waves her hand about the room—“objectifying themselves to gain his attention amongst a room full of dozens of blonde, fake-breasted SU football groupies just like them?”

  I can’t hold it in, I laugh out loud. “Oh, hell.”

  When they all stand at the same time, I stand, too, because I will not let them fuck with her. Squad code and all.

  “The line forms to your left.” Elle smiles and points right.

  They all look right, and the four of us bust up laughing.

  “Where?”

  Christy laughs. “Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

  When they walk away, I bend down to hug her. “You are so much livelier out and about!”

  She laughs and hugs me back. “Stupid people seem to bring that out in me.”

  Lisa leans forward. “Are you seriously okay with him hooking up?”

  “We’re friends, Lisa. That’s it, I swear.”

  She scrunches up her nose in disbelief.

  “I would never be with a guy who liked girls like that.” I thumb in the direction the blondes headed without looking.

  “Well”—Lisa’s voice is higher—“I guess that’s a good thing because The Missing Links has been spotted.”

  We all turn and see Mitch and Logan. They’re basically holding each other up.

  When Mitch sees us, he smiles a big, drunken, dopey smile. Logan, though, walks in the other direction, the blonde in the blue shirt taking off with him.

  “Boy, is she going to be disappointed.” Christy laughs.

  Elle barks out a laugh, and my heart immediately aches for her. She likes him and doesn’t want to. I know that feeling now.

  Mitch walks over and bends down, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Didn’t think you were coming.”

  I look up and shrug.

  “I’m glad you did.” He holds out his hand, stumbling.

  “How drunk are you?” Christy huffs in disgust.

  “Had to do something while I was waiting for you.” He continues to grin while looking at me.

  “Mitchy.” A blonde, one of the idiot’s that Elle just schooled, comes up from behind and hugs him.

  His eyes get wide as saucers, and, for the first time since I met him, he lowers his head.

  “You ready for your prize?” She runs her hand down his waist and is almost at his crotch when he wiggles free.

  “Back off,” he says, stepping away from her.

  “I thought—”

  “You thought wrong,” he cuts her off.

  “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be waiting.” She tries to kiss his cheek, but he pulls away.

  “Not a chance.” He holds his hand back out to me. “Come with me.”

  Un-fucking-real, I think, mindful not to clench my chest, which actually aches right now. “Not a chance.”

  “Nothing happened,” he says with an almost painful expression on his face.

  “And nothing’s gonna happen here, either. Now leave me alone.”

  “I’ll give you a few minutes. I’ll be back, though, and you and I—”

  “Screw you.”

  He looks shocked as he looks over at Elle. “Too soon?”

  “That’s a massive understatement,” Elle sneers at him.

  “I’ll be back.” He steps back, knocking some cups off the table. “I’ll be back to clean that up. I’ll give you time to process that I didn’t want—”

  “Go!” I finally snap.

  “Okay.” He holds his hand out for mine, and when I glare at him, he pulls it back, lifting both hands in the air. “Okay.”

  “Bathroom?” Elle whispers.

  I nod.

  “We’re going to the bathroom,” Elle tells the girls.

  “We’ll come, too.” Christy and Lisa stand up to join us.

  The line is long, so long that I’m not sure I can hold back the tears collecting in my eyes.

  “Play along,” Elle whispers.

  I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I nod anyway.

  She bends down and grabs her belly. “Gonna throw up.” She stumbles for added effect, and the people in front of us jump out of the way.

  “Oh God, I’m going to blow chunks all over!” she wails, and Lisa starts to giggle.

  “Oh, let us help you.” Christy appears at her side.

  Elle reaches back to grab my hand. “It’s going to fly out of me and get all over everyone!”

  The bathroom door opens as the line of people run for cover as Logan stumbles out, buttoning his pants.

  Elle nearly hits the floor, trying to hide from him, and my heart hurts for her.

  Once he buttons his damn pants, we push past everyone and into the bathroom, where the bimbo with the blue shirt is applying lipstick

  I look at Elle, who now looks like she really may puke.

  Blondie looks up at her reflection and sees us behind her and she homes in on Elle.

  “You’re so full of shit. He’s massive.” Nose in the air, she starts to walk past us.

  I want to fuck her up so badly. Instead, I snap. “You have whore on your forehead, cum on your chin, and toilet paper stuck to your hooker heels.”

  When she looks down at her heels, Lisa hip-checks her, making her fall out the door.

  “Oops.” Lisa slams and locks the door.

  I look at Elle. “Elle, I’m sorry I made you—”

  “Nope. No. This is not about me. It’s your breakdown.” She wraps her arms around me and the tear dam breaks.

  “I hate him,” I sob. “I hate him, and I like him. I’m mean to him, and he makes me so happy. I did this. I pushed him to her.”

  “Oh, heck, no.” She shakes me. “No, you didn’t. He’s a grown-ass man-boy who has the ability to make choices.”

  “You have no idea what I have put him through. None.” I sniff, stepping back. “I’ve driven him crazy with my brown sugar.” Or voodoo pussy, as he called it.

  “How much has she had to drink?” Lisa asks.

  “I’m not drunk. I’m not.” I wipe away my tea
rs. I’m already in hell, and my walk-through heaven was far shorter than I expected. “I had two; that’s it.”

  Christy rubs my back. “Well, then tell us what’s going on.”

  “I’m just … Not yet, okay?” I need to get my shit together. I mean, what did I expect?

  “Okay, but you can’t blame yourself. You didn’t push him into that bimbo’s clutches.” Elle wiped away some of my tears.

  “I deserve it. I was a bimbo when I got drunk and let him … you know.” I frown and look down. “I deserve it.”

  Lisa grabs me. “I will cut you if you talk shit like that again.” She shakes me. “Do you hear me? I will straight up cut you.”

  Lisa has left the building. Whoever this is, she scares me.

  I nod. Hell, even Elle nods.

  “Lisa,” Christy whispers.

  “What!” Lisa snaps at her, making Christy jump.

  “Stow the ninja!” Christy yells back.

  “Fine!” Lisa yells.

  We all fall into a hug that is one—to comfort—but also, I assume, two—is allowing us all to get our shit together.

  “I think we should walk out, our heads held high, and have fun,” Elle suggests.

  “Fun?” Christy asks

  “At his expense.” Elle nods, probably thinking of not only Mitch but Logan. “We’re gonna flirt right in front of them. I mean, you’re going to.”

  “You do know the three of us see how you and Logan act around each other, right?” Lisa asks.

  “It’s not what you think,” she tells her, and I want to hug her until she feels the truth inside. “Anyway, tonight’s about Jamie. Let’s do this.”

  After fixing my makeup, we walk right out of the bathroom, heads held high, ignoring the names being tossed at us.

  Elle looks left and steers us right, taking us outside where the music is loud, and a game of beer pong is being played.

  Upon further inspection, I see it’s strip beer pong.

  “And that, right there, ladies, is an STI on cheap heels with balloons for tits,” Elle says, making us all laugh.

  Two guys yell out, “Who’s next?”

  “We are,” I reply.

  “We?” Elle gasps.

  I look her over. “You and I have the most clothes on and a point to prove, so we’re up.”

  “We were next,” I hear and look over my shoulder.

  “Blue bags beat us to it.” Elle fakes a pouty face.

  “We call next,” I yell when the blonde who was rubbing on Mitch joins her.

  “You got it.” One of the guys winks.

  “The fuck you do,” I hear Logan from behind us.

  Elle narrows her eyes and spins on her heels.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Logan asks. “You’re supposed to be going home.”

  “Tomorrow,” Elle snaps. “I’m heading there tomorrow.”

  He shakes his head but says nothing.

  She nods, kind of like a bobblehead.

  I get it, girl, I get it.

  “Plans change. And Mitch invited us. I sent you a text.”

  I won’t correct her. I mean, he invited me … kind of. But he must have known I would bring my squad.

  “She has your number, Links?” Lipstick teeth huffs.

  He looks in her general direction—the man is fucked up—and glares. He looks back at Elle and reaches for her hand, but she steps back.

  He stammers, “Talk, we need to do—”

  “Talk, we need not do,” she mocks him.

  “You come to my place, my party, and refuse to talk to me?” He is pissed.

  “We don’t want to lose our place,” I interrupt. “We’re up next.”

  “Don’t do that,” Mitch says in a weird, I’m-trying-to-whisper-but-I’m-fucked-up kind of voice. “Jamie, come on.” He reaches for me, but I step back. “I’ll do anything, Jamie. Just … come on now. I didn’t think you were coming, and—”

  “Save it.” I glare at him. “Turn around and go find the hooker you planned to bang. I’m no hooker.”

  “Of all people, I am very well aware of that,” he attempts a joke then lowers his head.

  He’s playing with me. He doesn’t know anything; except I was the girl who wouldn’t have sex with him but easily gave a blow job.

  “London,” Logan drunkenly blurts out. “I’m going there.”

  My head snaps toward him, and I think maybe, just maybe, we should leave.

  “Well, you wouldn’t want to miss your flight, so you better scoot along,” Elle tells him.

  “You’re going to London, man?” Mitch asks.

  “After the holidays.” He scowls and looks back at Elle. “You either talk to me or leave.”

  She looks at me. “You good?”

  “Yeah, she’s good,” Christy answers for me.

  Logan reaches for Elle’s hand, but she yanks it away again.

  “Fine, be a brat.”

  She walks around him and keeps walking until we are in the corner of the fenced-in yard, the opposite side of where I thought we were going, but screw it, I follow.

  “The fuck did you come here for?” Logan barks at Elle, following us.

  “As I said, Mitch invited us.”

  “Flower?” Mitch steps between Elle and me.

  I look back at him and point my finger in his face. “Don’t.”

  “Fine, but you’re gonna correct that. I invited you, not—”

  “No, I’m not, and neither are you!”

  He puts his hand up in the air, as if in defeat, as he flashes a sloppy smile. “Do you know how sexy you are?”

  “Hell yes, I do,” I snap at him.

  “I make you feel that way.” He pokes himself in the chest.

  “No, Giddy-up.” I poke myself in the chest. “I was born this way.”

  When he starts to smirk, I cut him to the quick. “You just had to try something you haven’t had in the Midwestern, Trump-voting, cowboy-boot-wearing farm country that you came from. Now, how about you do an about-face and get out of mine because, Mitch, I want no ‘Moore,’ do you understand? I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

  His features turn from hurt to anger in a split-second. “You don’t know me.”

  “Boy, I know more about you than I ever wanted to. Now get out of my face.”

  When I turn around back to my friends, I hear Logan say, “Because of a blowjob? Because you want what she got? You want to be on your knees, sucking me off in a fucking bathroom?” He shakes his head, answering his own repulsive question. “Not you. You want someone to fall all over themselves for you. You want someone to live and breathe for you. You want it because that’s what you see every fucking day in your little castle on the hill. You want the illusion they call love. Well, let me tell you something, it’s bullshit!”

  When he yells, Elle jumps.

  I grab her hand and give it a tug, but she doesn’t turn around as he continues.

  “It’s bullshit, and you know it, and I’m not falling for it. Not with you, not with anyone. I don’t want kids so I can fuck them up. I don’t want a wife so I can blow smoke up her ass, trying to make her happy when, eventually, I won’t want her anyway. And she’ll figure it out and fuck around and ruin lives.

  “If I want a fucking blowjob by some bitch who craves my dick, I’m gonna get one. If I wanna fuck until my body is too exhausted to move, I’m gonna fuck. But it won’t be you!”

  When I’ve had enough and know damn well she has, I stomp around him and grab both her hands. “Elle, we’re up.”

  “Up to fucking what!” Logan yells, glaring at Elle, but he doesn’t try to stop her this time.

  “Links!” Mitch yells as he steps up to him.

  “You good?” I ask her.

  “I’m fucking pissed!” she snaps.

  “You wanna go?”

  “Hell no! Let’s play some pong.”

  When we get to the beer pong table, one of the two guys stepping back into their jeans asks
, “You know the stakes?”

  “You know you’re going to get your asses handed to you?” I smile and rake my teeth over my bottom lip, hoping that bastard sees me.

  “Damn …” Number one smiles. “I can’t wait to get you naked.”

  “Oh, honey, you’ll be the one with no clothes on.” I pick a ball out of one of the cups, put it in my mouth, and suck it dry as I pull it out.

  “Not fucking cool!” Mitch yells at me.

  Elle smirks.

  I point at him. “Someone’s getting it tonight, and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

  When Christy and Lisa laugh, I smirk at them and notice they have fresh drinks.

  “Oh boy,” Elle whispers, “I hope you’re good at this.”

  “Counting on beginner’s luck.” I shrug, and her face falls. “But certainly glad I came wearing lace under my clothes.”

  “Ladies first,” one of the guys yells down to us.

  “I’ll start,” Elle says. “I’ve played before.”

  “Thank God.” I laugh. “Give me the rules.”

  “Ten cups set up in a triangle. Our ball has to bounce in the middle and land in their cup. When it does—”

  “I love your optimism.” I give her a sad smile.

  “—they have to drink the beer, and the cup gets taken away. The first team to empty all the cups wins.”

  I sigh. “And the losers are naked.”

  “We got this. They’ve been at it for a while now.”

  She misses the first one, and I cringe.

  She winks. “Part of my strategy.”

  “Oh hell, I was hoping for some competition,” one of the guys yells down.

  “Now your turn.” She hands me the ball.

  My ball bounces and lands in a cup.

  “Good job!” Mitch cheers me on like I didn’t just lay him out in spades just seconds ago.

  “I was hot and thirsty anyway.” One of the guys loses his shirt and slams the beer back.

  I wink at him. “I’m loving this game already.”

  The first one they shoot lands in a cup in front of Elle.

  “My sweater is restricting me anyway.” She laughs as she shrugs it off and picks up the cup and says, “Cheers.”

  One of them whistles. “Look at those tits.”

  When their next shot sinks in a cup, I remove my left shoe.

  “Aw, come on,” one of them groans.

  I pick up the cup and slam it back and I pull the ball out of my mouth slowly.

 

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