The rest of us answer his battle cry and down our drinks.
Marissa makes a show of letting her whiskey spill from the corners of her pouty mouth, the amber rivulets trailing pathways down her neck.
“Oops,” she murmurs as she plasters herself to my body again. “I got all messy. Lick it up for me, baby.” She rises on the balls of her feet to whisper in my ear. “And then we can go to your room and I’ll lick you.”
Incredulous, I watch her from the corner of my eye.
Part of me just wishes I’d give in. Even though I’m done with her bullshit, my life makes more sense when I go with what’s expected of me. Play the quarterback position, date the head cheerleader, live the all-American dream.
It’s easier to shut off and stick with the status quo.
But I can’t.
“Marissa, come on…”
I gently nudge her back and wipe up the trail of whiskey from her neck with my knuckle.
I cast my attention around the party, looking for another paper thin excuse to slip away.
“Elena’s trying to call you to dance.” I give Marissa an encouraging push. “Go have fun. I’m probably going to swing out back for a smoke.”
Thankfully, Marissa takes the bait. Her hips sway with exaggerated movements as she struts away from me. As soon as she’s with her friends, she drops low into a squat and sticks her ass out, wiggling it enticingly.
“Christ,” I mutter.
Devlin claps me on the shoulder. “Should’ve just let her suck your dick. Then she’d get bored and leave you alone for the rest of the night.”
“The break was her idea.”
“It’s always their idea when chicks want to free themselves of attachments.”
I frown. “Her parents took her to Monaco over the summer.”
Devlin gives a low whistle.
“Yup. She was totally trying to snag some guilt-free vacation dick.” A contemplative expression crosses Devlin’s face. “Or pussy.”
“I don’t care. I’m done with her anyway.”
“Well, you’re going to need to prove it in front of everyone.”
“I’ve been looking all night, but nothing’s caught my eye.”
“What about that one?”
“No.”
He scans around us and subtly points out another beautiful girl. “That one?”
I sigh. “No.”
Our back and forth continues as we scope potential picks. Across the room, I spot a girl I can count on to get my current ex off my back for the night. She’s my old faithful.
“There. Heather’s perfect for this.”
A mix of relief and heat trickles through me as I cross the room, eating up the distance in four strides.
She’s talking to Alec, the new guy we appointed as our wide receiver. Her honey-blonde hair falls past her shoulders in soft waves that beg for fingers to sink in and pull on. It’s shorter than when I saw in school. She must have gotten it cut.