Stupid Girl
Page 12
Another embarrassed grin pulled at her mouth, probably because I was staring at her like some lunatic, and her gaze shot to the grass between her feet. It was cute as hell. “You’re welcome,” I told her. “Least I could do for knockin’ the wind out of you yesterday.” Wasn’t going to apologize for the kiss, though. I’d already told her that.
“True,” Gracie agreed. She gave a quick girl’s laugh that sounded different from any other I’d heard. I liked it. She glanced over her shoulder then, toward her dorm, and kinda jerked her thumb in that direction. “Well, I’d better get going.” She waved, turned and began walking, then looked back at me. The movement made that long braid of hers slide over her shoulder and fall down the middle of her back. “I’ll see ya around, Brax.”
“Yeah, you will,” I answered, and another slow smile caught my lips and pulled. I slipped my shades off to better watch her, and hell. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Not off that braid. Not off that ass. Not off those long legs. Not until she’d slid her dorm card through and pushed into the common room. She didn’t turn around again, yet I still sat there, straddling my bike, staring.
My cell vibrated against my thigh. I grabbed it, tapped the screen, and raised it to my ear. “What’s up, man?”
Cory Maxwell cleared his throat on the other line. First baseman for the Silverbacks, he was probably my closest friend at Winston. “Your presence is required at the house of awesomeness, dick wad.”
I shook my head. “Of course it is.” Tapping the screen, I disconnected just as Cory was about to say something else. With a final glance at Gracie’s dorm, I slid my shades over my eyes and started the bike. The engine rumbled as I headed toward the frat house.
Cars crammed the yard and parking spaces, and people drifted in and out of the front entrance. Another party, more booze-filled sorority girls and liquored-up jack f**ks littering my living space. Freshmen year, yeah, I thought it was a blast. Partied every chance I got, game or no game. I took a goddamned whipping. Now? Over it. Bored. Sick as shit of it.
Yet, my presence was required. Silverbacks superstar pitcher. Badass Southie.
Not a single soul here really knew me. Besides Cory, anyway. Didn’t know a single f**king personal thing about me. Assumed plenty. Like I was some sideshow carnie freak or something.
Gracie knew me, though. Not much, but more than these clowns, and I’d known them for over a year. Most were ball players, their girls, and random girls trying to hook up with ball players. The idea came fast to me that Gracie wouldn’t fit in here, with these people, in this atmosphere. That thought, and how easily Gracie had slipped into it, took me off guard. Made me even more curious about her. About myself. What the hell?
I walked in and everyone yelled and clapped. Slapped me on the back and congratulated me on the game as if I’d single-handedly won it. A cold bottle was pushed into my hand. This, I was used to. It’d been my life for over a year. I’d liked it. A lot.
“Jenks, you asshole, that was some fine sick pitching today, son!” Cory said from one of the sofas in the common room. I sank into the cushion next to him.
Lifting the bottle to my mouth, I let the lager flow down my throat. I grinned, and raised the brew. “I know that.” Everyone laughed as my gaze settled on most of my teammates, some on the floor, others draped over the furniture. Their girls draped over them. Same faces, same scenario. Different day.
A heavy body flopped down beside me, and I didn’t have to look to know it was Josh Collins. I could smell his chewing tobacco. Third baseman and a junior, he was a fellow Kappa Phi brother from Austin. And a dick of many things. But he was a good third baseman and that was the only decent thing I could say about the guy.
Josh leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. His gaze remained straight ahead. “So.” His drawl was long and irritating as hell. “How’d your date go?”
I took another pull on my lager. “It went.”
Josh’s shoulders shook as he laughed silently. “Yeah, I bet it did.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “Kenny said she wears a f**king wedding ring. Priceless.”
I took my time on the second pull of beer before answering. “Kenny says he f**ks your sister, too. You believe everything he says?”
Anger rolled over his face like a wave, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I took another swallow. Collins hated shit being said about his sister. Might be the only other redeeming quality the f**k wad had.
“Well, what the hell is it, Jenks?” Josh pushed.
I gave a casual shrug. “It’s just something to keep pricks like you away, Collins.” I lifted a brow. “Why do you care?”
Josh’s lips pulled back and he grinned a gap-toothed smile, one only his mother could love. “Just curious, is all.” He winked and punched my arm. “It’ll make this semester’s dare a little more interesting, huh, big guy?”
My gaze hardened as I looked at him. “Choose another one, Collins. She’s not dare material.”
Josh’s teeth showed, and I fixed on that big gap in the middle. I wanted to make it wider. “Trust me. She really, really is.” He pushed up, stood. “Totally opposite of you, that’s for fuckin’ sure. Besides, Jenks. You chose her. Remember? Picked her out the second we rounded the corner and saw her crossing the lawn. Anyway.” He smiled. “It’s just all good college fun. She’ll get over it and you. Probably laugh about it later on.” He headed to the kitchen, stopped and turned back. “Good pitchin’ today, son.” He nodded, then ducked into the other room.
The music thumped against the walls, some random local country rap band, and the smell of beer and sweat filled the common room. It made the inside of my skull ache, and I pushed my temples in with my thumbs. Goddamn, Collins was right. I had picked her. Honest to Christ, it’d been sheer impulse. Gracie had caught my eye the moment she’d pulled up in the parking lot, wearing that cute f**king hat and driving that old tank of a pick-up. I knew she was tough the second I’d laid eyes on her, and that had initially drawn me in. Now? Jesus H. Christ, I’d only been out with her once. Seen a piece of who she really was. And I liked what I saw. Even the part she tried so hard to hide I liked, and it made me want to find out more. Which made me an even bigger prick than Collins because the only way to get Gracie out of this now was to come clean with her. I didn’t know her well—not at all, actually, since we’d just met. But one thing I did know for a fact: She’d tell me, my fraternity and the semester dare to go straight to f**king hell. And to be selfishly honest, I just wasn’t ready to give her up yet.
I stood, tossing my bottle across the room and into the trash can by the kitchen. I’d had enough bullshit chatter and drunken laughter and was headed to my room when fingers closed around my wrist. When I turned I was surprised to see the blonde from the Chowder House, staring at me with a vixen smile and a mile of cl**vage popping out of her shirt. Blouse. That word and that thought of Gracie made me smile, probably giving Blondie the wrong idea as she pushed closer, and her hand crept up my arm.
“I knew if I asked around I’d find you,” she said. She slid her body against mine, and I felt her breast brush my elbow. “You’re kinda hard to miss. Not too many guys look like you. Where ya goin’?”
I looked at her. Any other given day I would have given her a panty-dropper smile and said wherever you’re goin’, sweetheart. She was hot. Stacked. A little drunk. And more than willing. Any man’s dream.
I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t interested. Yeah, I’d flirted a little at the restaurant, but that’d been for Gracie’s sake. I’d wanted her to feel at ease with me, not so guarded. I didn’t want to bang this drunk chick. I wanted to hole up in my room for the night, maybe send Gracie a text.
Text instead of sex. Sometime since yesterday I’d lost my f**king mind.
“Not tonight, sweetheart,” I said, and gently pushed the girl’s hands away.
She pouted her lips out and crossed her arms over her breasts. “But I drove all the way here.” I looked down at them. Yeah, I’d lost my f**king mind all right.
“Well, why don’t you go say hi to Josh Collins over there,” I said, and turned her in that direction, and pointed. “Big guy, Silverbacks cap on backward standing against the wall? Tell him I sent you over, yeah?”
The girl stared at Josh, turned, gave me a playful, if not drunken slap on the chest, and waved. “Okay, I’ll let you slide by this time. But just this once.” She sauntered off and made her way to Josh, who looked over her head and gave a nod of approval. That guy’s dick would rot off before graduation. But most said the same thing about mine. The difference was I knew Josh. His probably really would.
I made my way to the stairs and took them two at a time, reaching the second floor and my room without anyone else stopping me to talk game, sex, or beer. A f**king miracle. I locked the door, kicked off my boots, yanked off my jacket and pulled my tee shirt over my head. Then I grabbed my cell from the front pocket of my jeans and flopped onto my bed. I settled into the unmade covers and lay there in the dark, and the fluorescent light from my cell screen glared in my eyes. I tapped Gracie’s name and typed.
Me: Stop layin there thinking about me. You’ve got class in the mornin. Priorities, Sunshine.
I set my cell on my chest and stared in the dark at the ceiling. I couldn’t believe I’d slammed into her then … kissed her. When I’d told her it was spontaneous, that was the damn truth. I don’t know … I’d looked down at her, had pushed that hat off her face and … I just couldn’t f**king help myself. She’d tasted sweet. Warm. And it’d been too damn short of a kiss. It wasn’t the first time in my life I’d been compelled to kiss a total stranger. So why had it affected me the most?
My phone vibrated, and I lifted it. Just seeing her name on the screen made me smile like an idiot. Jesus, what had this quiet cowgirl with secrets done to me already? Should’ve snuck a pic of her earlier. Maybe she’d send me one. I blinked and read her text.
Gracie: My priorities are in order, thank you very much. I was just getting ready for bed. Haven’t you had enough of me for one night?
Me: Hardly. So tell me what spooked you in the restaurant, Gracie.
No one had ever accused me of being subtle. I just always found it better to get to the point, whether I’d known you ten years or one day. And the point was, whatever happened at the restaurant with Gracie bothered the hell out of me, and I wanted to know what was up. I waited, and thought maybe she wouldn’t answer me. Then, she did.
Gracie: You’re very pushy for a virtual stranger. Nothing spooked me. I was embarrassed by the enormous amount of soda that drowned me. Then I got a little dizzy in the bathroom. That’s all. But thank you for your concern.
Me: You didn’t look dizzy, Gracie. You looked scared shitless.
Gracie: Quite an imagination you got there, Southie. I kneed your family jewels within seconds of meeting you. Not the reaction of your average scaredy cat. Do you show this kind of heroic concern with all the girls?
Me: Guess you bring it out in me. Maybe you’re tougher than you look but I doubt it. Guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you, Gracie.
Gracie: Why do you call me Gracie? Of course I’m tough. I’m a Texan. And I’m not too sure you have enough eyeballs in your head to keep an eye on me, plus the other gazillion girls you keep an eye on.
My mouth pulled, and I grinned.
Me: I’ve got wicked eyeball talent Gracie. Tough? You’ll have to prove it to me. I call you Gracie cuz that’s your name. Are you wondering why I didn’t try and kiss you tonight?
There was a pause; I thought I’d scared her off.
Gracie: It’s my middle name. No one calls me that. You didn’t try and kiss me bc you knew I’d punch you in the nose.
Me: I’m original that way, see? I call you something no one else does. Punch me in the nose, eh? That’s interesting enough. Now stop bothering me and go to bed. I’ve got an early class in the morning.
Gracie: You’re so weird.
Me: Takes one to know one.
Gracie: ’Night Brax
Me: Sweet dreams, Gracie.
I set the alarm on my phone and shoved it under my pillow. Gracie was tough, yeah, I could see that. But there was something off about her, too. A vulnerability that she tried her goddamned best to hide. Why did I care so much? What was it about Gracie that made me pass up a half-drunk piece of ass, just to lay up here in the dark and send a few texts to a girl I barely knew? How was it she’d already gotten in my head? I’d been at Winston almost two years and not one girl had managed it.
In less than forty-eight hours, Gracie Beaumont had.
I punched the side of my bed, jumped up, and made my way to the bathroom down the hall. I stared at my face as I brushed my teeth. Turned my head to the side a little, and noticed how the scar on my cheek bone was more silver and less red. The skin around my blackened eye had turned the color of light purple and rust. Lifting my chin, more scars. Ink. How Gracie had even agreed to get on my bike in the first place still shocked the hell out of me. Girls like her? Usually they made a wide f**king arc to avoid guys like me. She wasn’t a half-witted party chic in college for the sheer f**k of it. No sorority. No running the frat party scene with a group of over the top make-up wearing girlfriends. She wanted to be a goddamned astronomer. Worked at the observatory. Used an outdated cell phone to save money. And drove an old ass tank of a pick-up truck.
And every single one of those things intrigued the hell out of me.
“True,” Gracie agreed. She gave a quick girl’s laugh that sounded different from any other I’d heard. I liked it. She glanced over her shoulder then, toward her dorm, and kinda jerked her thumb in that direction. “Well, I’d better get going.” She waved, turned and began walking, then looked back at me. The movement made that long braid of hers slide over her shoulder and fall down the middle of her back. “I’ll see ya around, Brax.”
“Yeah, you will,” I answered, and another slow smile caught my lips and pulled. I slipped my shades off to better watch her, and hell. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Not off that braid. Not off that ass. Not off those long legs. Not until she’d slid her dorm card through and pushed into the common room. She didn’t turn around again, yet I still sat there, straddling my bike, staring.
My cell vibrated against my thigh. I grabbed it, tapped the screen, and raised it to my ear. “What’s up, man?”
Cory Maxwell cleared his throat on the other line. First baseman for the Silverbacks, he was probably my closest friend at Winston. “Your presence is required at the house of awesomeness, dick wad.”
I shook my head. “Of course it is.” Tapping the screen, I disconnected just as Cory was about to say something else. With a final glance at Gracie’s dorm, I slid my shades over my eyes and started the bike. The engine rumbled as I headed toward the frat house.
Cars crammed the yard and parking spaces, and people drifted in and out of the front entrance. Another party, more booze-filled sorority girls and liquored-up jack f**ks littering my living space. Freshmen year, yeah, I thought it was a blast. Partied every chance I got, game or no game. I took a goddamned whipping. Now? Over it. Bored. Sick as shit of it.
Yet, my presence was required. Silverbacks superstar pitcher. Badass Southie.
Not a single soul here really knew me. Besides Cory, anyway. Didn’t know a single f**king personal thing about me. Assumed plenty. Like I was some sideshow carnie freak or something.
Gracie knew me, though. Not much, but more than these clowns, and I’d known them for over a year. Most were ball players, their girls, and random girls trying to hook up with ball players. The idea came fast to me that Gracie wouldn’t fit in here, with these people, in this atmosphere. That thought, and how easily Gracie had slipped into it, took me off guard. Made me even more curious about her. About myself. What the hell?
I walked in and everyone yelled and clapped. Slapped me on the back and congratulated me on the game as if I’d single-handedly won it. A cold bottle was pushed into my hand. This, I was used to. It’d been my life for over a year. I’d liked it. A lot.
“Jenks, you asshole, that was some fine sick pitching today, son!” Cory said from one of the sofas in the common room. I sank into the cushion next to him.
Lifting the bottle to my mouth, I let the lager flow down my throat. I grinned, and raised the brew. “I know that.” Everyone laughed as my gaze settled on most of my teammates, some on the floor, others draped over the furniture. Their girls draped over them. Same faces, same scenario. Different day.
A heavy body flopped down beside me, and I didn’t have to look to know it was Josh Collins. I could smell his chewing tobacco. Third baseman and a junior, he was a fellow Kappa Phi brother from Austin. And a dick of many things. But he was a good third baseman and that was the only decent thing I could say about the guy.
Josh leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. His gaze remained straight ahead. “So.” His drawl was long and irritating as hell. “How’d your date go?”
I took another pull on my lager. “It went.”
Josh’s shoulders shook as he laughed silently. “Yeah, I bet it did.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “Kenny said she wears a f**king wedding ring. Priceless.”
I took my time on the second pull of beer before answering. “Kenny says he f**ks your sister, too. You believe everything he says?”
Anger rolled over his face like a wave, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I took another swallow. Collins hated shit being said about his sister. Might be the only other redeeming quality the f**k wad had.
“Well, what the hell is it, Jenks?” Josh pushed.
I gave a casual shrug. “It’s just something to keep pricks like you away, Collins.” I lifted a brow. “Why do you care?”
Josh’s lips pulled back and he grinned a gap-toothed smile, one only his mother could love. “Just curious, is all.” He winked and punched my arm. “It’ll make this semester’s dare a little more interesting, huh, big guy?”
My gaze hardened as I looked at him. “Choose another one, Collins. She’s not dare material.”
Josh’s teeth showed, and I fixed on that big gap in the middle. I wanted to make it wider. “Trust me. She really, really is.” He pushed up, stood. “Totally opposite of you, that’s for fuckin’ sure. Besides, Jenks. You chose her. Remember? Picked her out the second we rounded the corner and saw her crossing the lawn. Anyway.” He smiled. “It’s just all good college fun. She’ll get over it and you. Probably laugh about it later on.” He headed to the kitchen, stopped and turned back. “Good pitchin’ today, son.” He nodded, then ducked into the other room.
The music thumped against the walls, some random local country rap band, and the smell of beer and sweat filled the common room. It made the inside of my skull ache, and I pushed my temples in with my thumbs. Goddamn, Collins was right. I had picked her. Honest to Christ, it’d been sheer impulse. Gracie had caught my eye the moment she’d pulled up in the parking lot, wearing that cute f**king hat and driving that old tank of a pick-up. I knew she was tough the second I’d laid eyes on her, and that had initially drawn me in. Now? Jesus H. Christ, I’d only been out with her once. Seen a piece of who she really was. And I liked what I saw. Even the part she tried so hard to hide I liked, and it made me want to find out more. Which made me an even bigger prick than Collins because the only way to get Gracie out of this now was to come clean with her. I didn’t know her well—not at all, actually, since we’d just met. But one thing I did know for a fact: She’d tell me, my fraternity and the semester dare to go straight to f**king hell. And to be selfishly honest, I just wasn’t ready to give her up yet.
I stood, tossing my bottle across the room and into the trash can by the kitchen. I’d had enough bullshit chatter and drunken laughter and was headed to my room when fingers closed around my wrist. When I turned I was surprised to see the blonde from the Chowder House, staring at me with a vixen smile and a mile of cl**vage popping out of her shirt. Blouse. That word and that thought of Gracie made me smile, probably giving Blondie the wrong idea as she pushed closer, and her hand crept up my arm.
“I knew if I asked around I’d find you,” she said. She slid her body against mine, and I felt her breast brush my elbow. “You’re kinda hard to miss. Not too many guys look like you. Where ya goin’?”
I looked at her. Any other given day I would have given her a panty-dropper smile and said wherever you’re goin’, sweetheart. She was hot. Stacked. A little drunk. And more than willing. Any man’s dream.
I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t interested. Yeah, I’d flirted a little at the restaurant, but that’d been for Gracie’s sake. I’d wanted her to feel at ease with me, not so guarded. I didn’t want to bang this drunk chick. I wanted to hole up in my room for the night, maybe send Gracie a text.
Text instead of sex. Sometime since yesterday I’d lost my f**king mind.
“Not tonight, sweetheart,” I said, and gently pushed the girl’s hands away.
She pouted her lips out and crossed her arms over her breasts. “But I drove all the way here.” I looked down at them. Yeah, I’d lost my f**king mind all right.
“Well, why don’t you go say hi to Josh Collins over there,” I said, and turned her in that direction, and pointed. “Big guy, Silverbacks cap on backward standing against the wall? Tell him I sent you over, yeah?”
The girl stared at Josh, turned, gave me a playful, if not drunken slap on the chest, and waved. “Okay, I’ll let you slide by this time. But just this once.” She sauntered off and made her way to Josh, who looked over her head and gave a nod of approval. That guy’s dick would rot off before graduation. But most said the same thing about mine. The difference was I knew Josh. His probably really would.
I made my way to the stairs and took them two at a time, reaching the second floor and my room without anyone else stopping me to talk game, sex, or beer. A f**king miracle. I locked the door, kicked off my boots, yanked off my jacket and pulled my tee shirt over my head. Then I grabbed my cell from the front pocket of my jeans and flopped onto my bed. I settled into the unmade covers and lay there in the dark, and the fluorescent light from my cell screen glared in my eyes. I tapped Gracie’s name and typed.
Me: Stop layin there thinking about me. You’ve got class in the mornin. Priorities, Sunshine.
I set my cell on my chest and stared in the dark at the ceiling. I couldn’t believe I’d slammed into her then … kissed her. When I’d told her it was spontaneous, that was the damn truth. I don’t know … I’d looked down at her, had pushed that hat off her face and … I just couldn’t f**king help myself. She’d tasted sweet. Warm. And it’d been too damn short of a kiss. It wasn’t the first time in my life I’d been compelled to kiss a total stranger. So why had it affected me the most?
My phone vibrated, and I lifted it. Just seeing her name on the screen made me smile like an idiot. Jesus, what had this quiet cowgirl with secrets done to me already? Should’ve snuck a pic of her earlier. Maybe she’d send me one. I blinked and read her text.
Gracie: My priorities are in order, thank you very much. I was just getting ready for bed. Haven’t you had enough of me for one night?
Me: Hardly. So tell me what spooked you in the restaurant, Gracie.
No one had ever accused me of being subtle. I just always found it better to get to the point, whether I’d known you ten years or one day. And the point was, whatever happened at the restaurant with Gracie bothered the hell out of me, and I wanted to know what was up. I waited, and thought maybe she wouldn’t answer me. Then, she did.
Gracie: You’re very pushy for a virtual stranger. Nothing spooked me. I was embarrassed by the enormous amount of soda that drowned me. Then I got a little dizzy in the bathroom. That’s all. But thank you for your concern.
Me: You didn’t look dizzy, Gracie. You looked scared shitless.
Gracie: Quite an imagination you got there, Southie. I kneed your family jewels within seconds of meeting you. Not the reaction of your average scaredy cat. Do you show this kind of heroic concern with all the girls?
Me: Guess you bring it out in me. Maybe you’re tougher than you look but I doubt it. Guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you, Gracie.
Gracie: Why do you call me Gracie? Of course I’m tough. I’m a Texan. And I’m not too sure you have enough eyeballs in your head to keep an eye on me, plus the other gazillion girls you keep an eye on.
My mouth pulled, and I grinned.
Me: I’ve got wicked eyeball talent Gracie. Tough? You’ll have to prove it to me. I call you Gracie cuz that’s your name. Are you wondering why I didn’t try and kiss you tonight?
There was a pause; I thought I’d scared her off.
Gracie: It’s my middle name. No one calls me that. You didn’t try and kiss me bc you knew I’d punch you in the nose.
Me: I’m original that way, see? I call you something no one else does. Punch me in the nose, eh? That’s interesting enough. Now stop bothering me and go to bed. I’ve got an early class in the morning.
Gracie: You’re so weird.
Me: Takes one to know one.
Gracie: ’Night Brax
Me: Sweet dreams, Gracie.
I set the alarm on my phone and shoved it under my pillow. Gracie was tough, yeah, I could see that. But there was something off about her, too. A vulnerability that she tried her goddamned best to hide. Why did I care so much? What was it about Gracie that made me pass up a half-drunk piece of ass, just to lay up here in the dark and send a few texts to a girl I barely knew? How was it she’d already gotten in my head? I’d been at Winston almost two years and not one girl had managed it.
In less than forty-eight hours, Gracie Beaumont had.
I punched the side of my bed, jumped up, and made my way to the bathroom down the hall. I stared at my face as I brushed my teeth. Turned my head to the side a little, and noticed how the scar on my cheek bone was more silver and less red. The skin around my blackened eye had turned the color of light purple and rust. Lifting my chin, more scars. Ink. How Gracie had even agreed to get on my bike in the first place still shocked the hell out of me. Girls like her? Usually they made a wide f**king arc to avoid guys like me. She wasn’t a half-witted party chic in college for the sheer f**k of it. No sorority. No running the frat party scene with a group of over the top make-up wearing girlfriends. She wanted to be a goddamned astronomer. Worked at the observatory. Used an outdated cell phone to save money. And drove an old ass tank of a pick-up truck.
And every single one of those things intrigued the hell out of me.
