The Freshman

by Monica Murphy

  I laugh, ready to give him grief, but someone else beats me to it.

  “You’re such a dick.”

  Oh shit.

  We both turn to find Gracie is in the kitchen, and Hayden is standing right next to her. They’re both glaring. At Caleb.

  “I was just kidding,” Caleb says with a light laugh.

  Gracie’s eyes are glassy, like she might’ve been crying. She points at Caleb. “I was ready to forgive you for how awful you were to me tonight, but forget it. Fuck you, Caleb.” She offers a gentle smile in my direction. “It was nice hanging out with you tonight, Tony, but I’ve got to go. Robin is waiting for me in the parking lot.”

  “You sure you’re okay, Gracie?” I follow after them toward the front door, leaving Caleb in the kitchen. “You really want to leave with that guy?”

  She nods and sniffs, a watery smile on her face. “I’ll be fine. Thank you. I know how to handle him.”

  Hayden gives her a hug before Gracie opens the door, and we both stand in the doorway, watching Gracie walk toward an older, beat-up black Toyota Tacoma. I’m surprised ol’ Robin drives a truck, but then I notice there’s a bunch of sound equipment in the back of it, so that makes sense.

  She opens the passenger side door, climbs into the truck, and waves before she pulls the creaky door shut. Robin revs the engine before he pulls away from the curb, his tires screeching as the truck’s back end swings. As if he’s losing traction.

  Guy can’t sing or drive. Great.

  “Is she really going to be all right with him?” I ask Hayden as we watch them leave. I swear I can still hear his squealing tires.

  “She will. Though I told her not to go.” Hayden shakes her head. “He doesn’t deserve her. He’s a total prick.”

  “He is,” I agree as I shut and lock the front door.

  “She told me she feels bad for him,” Hayden continues. “He was crying to her on the phone. He claims he was so nervous and that’s why they had a bad set, but I don’t know. I’ve heard them live before and it wasn’t much of a difference. He’s just trying to divert her from the fact that she caught him with another girl.”

  These manipulative tactics feel familiar. My mom did this shit to my dad all the time when they were still married. Even when they were going through their divorce. It worked most of the time too. Dad felt guilty for a lot of the shit he did to her.

  Sometimes I wonder if Mom ever feels guilty.

  I’m going with not really.

  Caleb appears, a sulk on his face. “I’m going to bed.” He stomps up the stairs without a backward glance or acknowledgement of our good nights we call out to him.

  “What’s his problem?” Hayden asks me once he’s gone, sounding vaguely amused. “He’s the one who said she’d fall in love with him and he’d have to get a restraining order.”

  “Caleb never knows when to quit,” I explain.

  Hayden turns to face me, her hand rising to rest on my chest. “Unlike you?”

  “What do you mean by that?” I frown.

  “You’re one of the most restrained people I know, Tony Sorrento. Calm. Thoughtful.” She steps closer, her head tilted back as if she’s waiting for a kiss. I give her one, keeping it light. “I like that about you.”

  “I’m glad we’re friends,” I tell her in all seriousness as we slowly walk toward the stairs.

  She swats my chest and then takes my hand, a smile stretching her lips. “Forget all this friend talk. Take me upstairs and ravish me, sir.”

  “Ravish you?” I let her drag me up the stairs, enjoying how eager she seems.

  Since the heated kiss at Strummers, I’ve felt the same way.

  “I watched Bridgerton on Netflix. I’m all about the historical romance right now. You’re like one of those noble dukes with the stiff upper lip who has a hard time showing his feelings,” she says.

  I have no idea what she’s talking about. “I’ll show you something stiff.”

  She throws her head back and laughs. “Perfect. That’s what I was hoping for.”

  Eighteen

  Hayden

  The moment we’re in Tony’s room, he’s closing and locking the door—a promising sign—and pulling me into his arms, our bodies flush together so that I can feel every inch of him, and he can feel every inch of me.

  I shiver when he leans in and drops a kiss on my bare shoulder, his lips soft and warm, his hands shifting to grip my hips lightly. “Your skin is so smooth,” he murmurs as he shifts inward, his mouth now on my neck, right at my pulse point.

  I close my eyes, tilting my head back, trying to banish what I heard earlier from my mind. Yes, I was spying on Tony and Caleb’s conversation, so what? I tuned out what Gracie was saying about Robin, and while I feel bad about it, I was also trying to listen to Tony and his thoughts on relationships.

  They haven’t changed from the first time I met him, and the dreamer in me sort of hoped they had. But he’s repeating my own words, yet again. That “relationships are for pussies” remark will haunt me the entire time we’re supposedly together, I know it.

  He acts like he’s into me. I’m not dumb. I know when a guy wants to be with me. And it’s not just a sex thing. We’ve messed around. We definitely have a connection. I’m pretty sure tonight is the night we actually have sex, and I actually like this guy. I think he feels the same way.

  I don’t want to be just friends with him. I know that much.

  Am I setting myself up to fail? Maybe. Am I willing to take that chance?

  I don’t know.

  Tony is young. And he’s not a believer in high school relationships—God, who is? I’m not a believer in them either. He’s barely out of high school. I’m two years older than he is. Just thinking about a long-term relationship happening between us is probably doomed to fail. When does love ever prevail? Not in any relationship I’ve ever seen.

  “Hayden.” Tony’s rumbly voice against my throat pulls me from my thoughts and I take a deep breath. “Where’d you go?”

  “I was thinking,” I admit truthfully.

  “I must be doing a shit job then,” he says, chuckling into my skin.

  “You’re definitely not doing a shit job.” I pull away slightly so I can stare into his deep brown eyes. They’re dark and mysterious, and I wish I knew what he was thinking right now. “I had fun tonight. Despite how awful Bat’s Cave was.”

  “They were awful,” he agrees readily. “But I had fun too. I like Gracie.”

  “I like Caleb.” I do, even when he’s antagonizing my best friend. “He’s like a twelve-year-old in a man’s body.”

  “Exactly. He can get pretty much any girl he wants.”

  “Probably not Gracie.”

  “We’ll see.” His quiet confidence is sexy.

  It’s also vaguely annoying, yet still sexy.

  I shove his shoulder. “Don’t say that. You make it sound like Gracie is easy.”

  “Nah. More like all that arguing is foreplay.”

  “Kind of like when we first hung out?” I raise a brow.

  “We didn’t argue too much.”

  “Somewhat. And I tried my hardest to push you. Out on the jungle gym.” I smile, remembering that moment.

  “When you took off your panties and shoved them at me?” he asks. I nod. “That was definitely foreplay.”

  “I was testing you,” I stress, rolling my eyes, trying my best to keep the smile off my lips. But it’s like I can’t help it.

  His hands slip from my hips to settle on my ass. They’re big and warm and when he gives me a squeeze, pulling me in closer, I can feel how hard he is. “Testing me. Flirting with me. Whatever.”

  “You still have my panties?” I ask in a whisper.

  He nods slowly.

  I smile. “Where are they?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  “I want them back.”

  “Nope.” He shakes his head.

  “Tony…” I draw his name out.

  “You c
an’t take back a gift,” he protests.

  “They’re my underwear. They weren’t a gift.”

  “I thought they were. You’re the one who shoved them at me.”

  I really don’t want the panties back, but I’m curious where he might be keeping them. I glance around the room, spotting Millicent the cat sleeping in a chair on top of a folded blanket, my gaze settling on the giant dresser against the wall. “Do you keep them stashed in there?” I nod toward the dresser.

  “Like I said, I’m not telling.” His lips thin into a straight line and he slowly shakes his head. “They’re mine.”

  “You’re very possessive,” I say with a little pout.

  “You have no idea,” he drawls before he dips his head and presses his mouth to mine.

  The kiss goes deep instantly. Open mouths and seeking tongues. I thrust my hands into his thick hair. He grips my ass tight, pushing me against the wall. Again he lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist, my thighs squeezing. He shifts closer, his denim covered erection obvious, and I blatantly rub my lower body against his, the delicious friction sending sparks all over my skin.

  It’s been a while since I’ve been with a guy. And I can’t remember ever feeling so connected to a guy as I do with Tony.

  “Are you trying to get off right now?” he murmurs against my mouth, sounding amused.

  “What do you think?” I lift my hips, then drag them down. A little whimper escapes me as my pussy clenches in anticipation.

  “I think you’re unlike any girl I’ve ever been with,” he says, awe tinging his voice as he leans in and kisses me yet again.

  I don’t think he’s been with a ton of girls. That’s my guess. He’s only eighteen. I heard him mention a girl. Sophie? Did she break his heart? He’s never mentioned her to me, and maybe it hurts too much to talk about her.

  I hate that. I don’t want him to have some girl in his past who wrecked him. Not in that way. I want to wreck him, but in the best way possible.

  His hands slip beneath the hem of my tank, touching bare skin. I suck in a breath, shivering when he slides those hands up, up, up. Until he’s touching my bra. Just beneath my breasts. His fingers are featherlight, like a tease. Like magic. They’re there, and then they’re gone.

  And now they’re back.

  I thrust my chest into his hands, wanting more. Curl my hand around his nape to deepen our kiss, indicating that I never want him to stop his exploration. He returns his hands to my breasts, his fingers streaking across the front of my bra, tracing the lace. Circling around my hard nipples.

  “Feels so good,” I murmur against his mouth, encouraging him.

  He shifts his hands to my back, working the hooks on my bra. It springs free and within seconds, his fingers are beneath the bra, touching bare skin. His thumbs skim across my nipples, lightly pinching them. Driving me out of my mind.

  The tank, the bra, it all feels like it’s choking me. I pull my mouth from his and lift my arms above my head. He opens his eyes, staring at me, and I’m sure I look a mess.

  “Take it off,” I whisper and he reaches for the hem of my tank, this time pulling it up and over my breasts, along my arms, over my head, until I’m completely free of it.

  He drops the tank and I rid myself of my bra, until I’m completely topless.

  “I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this,” he murmurs, reaching out to reverently touch me, his gaze locked on my chest. He runs the back of his hand against one breast, then the other. “After that night out on the jungle gym.”

  “I wanted to flash you so bad,” I admit with a faint smile.

  “You pretty much did,” he says.

  “Not all the way,” I remind him.

  “Just enough to fuel my imagination.” His gaze returns to mine. “And trust me. Reality is better than my imagination.”

  A whispery sigh leaves me when he pinches my right nipple. He could do it harder. I wouldn’t mind. “I’m so glad to hear it.”

  He cups my breasts, as if weighing them in his palms. His expression is indecisive, and I wonder what he’s waiting for.

  It suddenly feels like he’s stalling.

  “Everything okay?” I ask him after what feels like an eternity of silence.

  He lifts his gaze to mine, and I see uncertainty there. It triggers something inside of me. Concern? Worry? Is he going to back out? Tell me he’s not interested in this, in me?

  Oh God. I try my best to be a strong, secure woman when it comes to my sexuality. Not much shames me or makes me embarrassed anymore, but I feel super vulnerable right now. Topless and exposed.

  “Can I admit something to you?” he asks, his voice quiet.

  I nod, swallowing past the sudden lump in my throat. “You can tell me anything.”

  “I—haven’t done this much.” He removes his hands from my chest and rests them on my shoulders briefly before he draws them down my arms.

  “What exactly are you talking about?” Everywhere he touches me, sparks fly. My entire body is achingly aware of his. It’s as if my every nerve and cell is chanting, more, more, more.

  “Sex. I’ve messed around some. We messed around a few days ago. But—” He looks away and drops his hands, though his lower body still pins mine to the wall.

  God, he’s strong. And cute. Sexy.

  Wait a minute.

  Is he trying to tell me he hasn’t had a lot of experience?

  “You’re doing fine,” I whisper. “Better than fine. I’m encouraging you to keep going. If it’s anything like last Saturday, we’re on the right track.”

  His gaze returns to mine. “I’ve never had—actual sex before.”

  My mouth drops open. “What?”

  “It’s true.”

  “You told me you had moves.” I’m teasing, but he looks so serious—and worried—I clamp my mouth shut before I say something that’ll upset him.

  “I do. I just—I don’t know how to explain it. I guess I never got around to completely finishing the deed,” he says, sounding miserable.

  “What exactly have you done?” I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.

  “Everything else but.” He cups my cheek. Tilts my head back so our gazes lock. “Don’t make fun of me right now.”

  He sounds so worried. It makes my heart crack wide open, just for him.

  “I would never make fun of you,” I stress, slowly shaking my head.

  I’m rattled though. He’s saying he’s a freaking virgin. Tony Sorrento, resident hottie on campus, a virgin!

  Who knew?

  Apparently no one. Definitely not me.

  “What about Sophie? You never had sex with her?” I thought she was the great love of his life.

  He frowns. “How do you know about Sophie?”

  Well. This is embarrassing. I probably shouldn’t have asked that. “I overheard you talking with Caleb earlier.”

  “Oh. Well. We got together last year. She was my first girlfriend. We messed around some, but I could never get her to have sex with me. She was too scared.” He sighs. Shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about Sophie.”

  Maybe he’s still in love with her. I can feel it in the way he closes himself off.

  “Right. Not the time or place.” I nudge my torso against his. At least his dick is still hard. That’s a good sign. “Put me down, please.”

  He lowers me to the ground and I immediately toe off my low-rise Chucks before I start taking off my jeans. They’re so tight, I basically peel them off my legs, and I get rid of them quick, a sigh of relief escaping me when they’re off.

  “What are you doing?” Tony asks.

  “What does it look like?” I raise a brow.

  “I thought you were going to leave.”

  I look at him. I mean, I really look at him, studying his face. He’s worried. His face is set in a grimace, and his gaze is full of uncertainty.

  This is silly. We’re about to have sex—and it’s his first time. It should be fun
and carefree. Not traumatizing and worried you’re going to get judged.

  I can admit I’m a little thrown by his admission, but it’s not enough to stop me. So I’ll be Tony Sorrento’s first. So what?

  You’ll be his first. That’s a big deal. If he has a thing for Sophie? He’ll have a bigger thing for you.

  I shove that voice into the farthest corner of my head and tell it to shut up.

  “Come here.” I reach out my hand and he takes it so I can pull him toward me. He comes willingly, our bodies colliding, and he smiles down at me, his arms coming around my bare waist. “Do you have condoms?”

  He nods, his fingers caressing my sides a total distraction. I tell myself to focus.

  “Good. Then ravish me, my stoic, virginal duke,” I tease.

  He rolls his eyes, and then he does the craziest thing.

  Without warning he reaches for me, picking me up and slinging my entire body over his shoulder. I can’t help the shriek that escapes me, and I smack the solid wall that is his back as he takes me to the bed and dumps me unceremoniously on the mattress. I practically bounce when I hit the thing, and I push my hair out of my face, ready to give him shit, but the words get stuck in my throat when I see what he’s doing.

  He tugs the black T-shirt off, revealing a lean yet muscular chest. The boy has abs. A six pack, and I stare at them, tempted to lick all over his stomach and search those muscular ridges of flesh. His jeans gape a little at the waist, revealing nothing but a shadow beneath and anticipation curls within me.

  Pretty sure Tony has the best bod out of any dude I’ve ever been with.

  I lie back on the bed in just my panties and watch him, unable to fight the smile curling my lips. He smiles in return, reaching for the drawer on the bedside table and pulling it open, yanking out a box of condoms. He sets it on top of the table and I check the label.

  “Twenty-four?” My brows shoot up. “Someone’s hopeful.”