Luca
DoesBranson always hook up with douchebags? First, the blonde from the party over the summer, and now this idiot. I’m not even sure why I care, to be honest. He’s a grown man and he can do whatever, or whoever, he wants.
I think I’m feeling irrationally annoyed because I’m fighting with Courtney. The entire situation with her pisses me off because I was finally starting to loosen up and have a good time.
While we’re all entitled to our own feelings and opinions, I still can’t help the bubble of irritation that has built deep in my stomach because of her.
What’s her issue? That I didn’t text her the minute I arrived. Even though I only arrived maybe ten minutes before I saw her.
TEN. MINUTES.
I don’t get why she’s so pissed off anyway. She was clearly occupied with Mr. Bro Man when I arrived. She wasn’t hurting for attention or left waiting for me in the corner alone.
So, here we are. Heading upstairs to “talk,” which is really girl code for argue.
Exactly what I want to do at a fucking party.
We find an open room easily. The frat house is huge, and it’s still early in the night, as far as parties go, so the obligatory hook-ups haven’t made their way upstairs yet.
I practically stomp down the hall to the second door on the right. I know Courtney is following me, even though her steps are silent. Her presence feels daunting. I enter the room and head straight to the end of the bed. I don’t bother waiting to shut the door behind her.
If the adult child wants to throw a temper tantrum, the adult child can shut the door herself.
I give her a bored stare and wait. If she thinks I’m talking first, she’s sorely mistaken. I’m normally such a peacekeeper. I don’t like upsetting anyone or rocking any boats, and if I have any inkling that I’ve upset somebody, I’m the first to try and fix it.
Not tonight. I’m so over this.
Her eyes narrow as they take me in, and she lets out a huff of irritation.
An actual huff.
“So, you’re not going to say anything at all, Luca?” she spits out.
“Courtney, I have no fucking idea what you expect me to say. Sorry for not texting you minutes before I saw you?” I have to bite back a laugh at how fucking ridiculous this is. “I’m not going to apologize for something like that. This is stupid, Courtney, and you fucking know it.”
She is fucking seething. If this was a cartoon, steam would be flying out of her ears.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you lately, Luca, but I’m fucking over it. I’m fucking over feeling unimportant to you and like I’m always the one who has to initiate communication with us, and I’m fucking over feeling not good enough!”
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! How do you not feel good enough? Because I didn’t text you immediately? Excuse the fuck out of me for getting a drink quickly before wanting to meet up with you. FUCKING SUE ME. Jesus fuck, Court. Do you even hear yourself?” I know I should quit while I’m ahead. I’ve never raised my voice at her, and I know this isn’t helping my case, but I can’t find it in me to care right now.
“The past few weeks have been so crazy. We are starting college in two fucking days. You’re going here too, Courtney, and you moved just as far as I did, so I know you know how much work went into this move. Don’t pretend you haven’t been busy with preparing too!”
My pulse is racing, and at this point, I could run five miles with all the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Months of bottled-up feelings are projectile vomiting out of my mouth, and I can’t stop them, even if I wanted to.
She starts crying.
Actual tears are falling from her eyes and fuck me all to hell. She knows I can’t stand her crying. I may be upset, but I’m not an asshole. I don’t want her to be crying because of me.
“Courtney,” I sigh while dropping my face into my hands. “Why are you crying?”
“Luca, we have been together for two years and I fucking love you, but I don’t think you even feel the same way.” She is basically blubbering now. Jesus Christ.
“Baby, that isn’t true. You are very important to me, and I care about you so much.”
This is awkward.
“Care about me, Luca. You care about me? That’s great.” She rolls her eyes at me. How can she look so angry while snot is basically running down her face?
“Yes, Courtney. I care about you. I… I love you.” Thank God she isn’t looking at me right now, because I couldn’t even keep the wince off my face at those words. I don’t know why I said them. I just can’t stand seeing her so upset.
I’m going to Hell.
At my words—my untruthful assertion—she looks up, smiles, wipes her eyes, and walks up to me. She bends down to where I’m still at on the end of the bed and kisses me. I can’t get myself to kiss her back.
I don’t miss her sudden shift in demeanor the minute she hears what she wants from me, and it feels slightly manipulative.
She breaks our kiss and drops to her knees, trying to work my pants open.
Uhhh.
What is happening?
“No. Courtney, babe, I don’t know if this is a good idea right now. We’re both worked up and emotional.”
Trying to wiggle away from her to no avail, she has a death grip on my jeans.
“No, baby, it’s okay,” she insists. “I want to. I want to show you how much I love you”
At this point, she has my jeans unzipped, and she shoves her hand into my pants and wraps her palm painfully around my very flaccid dick.
“Courtney, stop. It’s okay. You don’t have to do that. I know how you feel. Really, this isn’t the best way to work things out.” My pulse is racing, and my palms are starting to sweat. I’m trying to shove her away, but nothing seems to register with her. She has tunnel vision.
“Don’t you want me to make you feel good, baby?” She’s looking up at me through her dark lashes, taking my still flaccid cock into her mouth.
I can’t fucking believe this is happening.