You should have been here,I think but I hold my anger, for now.
“Mom…she took some pills.”
He stands with his hands on his hips, disheveled like the many times he walked into this house after a night with one of his mistresses. My mom fought with him about it for years. They’d argue, and I’d stay in my room, a pillow on my head to drown out the anger.
I push past him. I’ve answered the cops, the paramedics. I don’t need to be here. I don’t need to look at his cowardly face for another second.
It’s three a.m., and the party is still very much alive. I know what room she sleeps in because Dylan pointed it out when he suggested I climb in when she was pissed at me. I use the tree to hoist myself onto the roof seat outside her window, and I knock a few times before a light comes on. A sleepy, messy-haired Ash opens the window.
“Ryder?” she yawns. “You could’ve knocked at my door.”
“Can I come in?” I try to keep the emotion out of my voice.
She steps aside, and I climb in, closing the window behind me. She crawls into bed and pats the space next to her. Without a word, I join her. She turns her back to me, and I curve myself around her petite body, my hands slipping under her t-shirt and cupping her small tit. It makes my dick twitch, but I don’t want to fuck right now. I want to pretend that this is the kind of guy I am. The type of guy that can sleep in bed with a girl and not fuck her.
I press my face against her hair, and I’m drifting off before long.
ChapterEleven
ASH
One week. It’s been a week since we had sex since he crawled into bed with me and held me till sunrise. I haven’t seen him since he climbed out of my window. Dylan is being vague about it, and the last thing I want to do is assume that Ryder and I are anything more than a casual hookup.
Marcy and Dylan are their usual over-PDA-selves at lunch, and Georgia chatters on about how I should write the school play. I don’t have to look behind me to know he’s walked in. Dylan’s face says it all. And sure enough, Ryder sits at our table pulling a girl onto his lap. The girl from the frat party. I don’t miss the quick glance Dylan gives me before returning to his food.
“My people,” Ryder greets, and everyone except Dylan and I respond. Marcy frowns at her boyfriend but doesn’t think much of it. The scent of weed floats my way, and I know he’s probably high.
The girl runs her hands through his hair, and he tugs her closer by the waist. They proceed to tongue battle right there at the lunch table.
“Man, some of us are trying to eat.” Dylan mutters.
Ryder pulls away from the girl and then looks at his best friend. “And some of us are trying to get pussy.”
I cringe at his crudeness, but his new special of the week doesn’t seem to mind, giggling and grinding in his lap.
I poke at my sub, my appetite gone, and what I’ve had so far threatening to come up. I am such an idiot! What did I think? This is Ryder Rothwell, the biggest asshole in college, the guy who bribed a guy to go out with me, the guy who fucked me then didn’t even have the decency to call.
“Excuse me,” I say tightly, standing with my tray.
“What’s the matter, kitten? This turning you on?” He gropes her breast and sticks his tongue in her mouth while glaring at me. What the fuck did I ever do to him? “I’m sure Porter’s game.”
“Ryder. Enough, man.” Dylan looks like he’s about ready to punch Ryder.
“Marcy looks like you better keep your eye on these two. Something is budding.”
“Shut your mouth, Ryder. You’re being a dick, and unlike you, Dylan doesn’t get off bullying others.” Marcy says, glaring at Ryder.
I don’t bother responding to that. He’s a hateful asshole, and I am done with whatever games he plays. We’re not dating, and I don’t need to give this more attention than I already have. I dump the contents of my lunch and leave the cafeteria. Marcy and Dylan follow me. They apologize for his behavior, and I hold it together because I won’t shed any tears over Ryder.
* * *
The sound of branches crashing against my window has me bolting upright in bed. It’s pissing out there. I nearly scream at the shadow that appears until I recognize Ryder. I stand there with my arms folded, and he steeples his hands. I shake my head.
“Please,” he shouts, knocking loudly, and I want to kick his sorry ass. He’ll wake everyone up.
I push open the window, and he staggers in. “What the hell, asshole? You’ll wake the fucking neighborhood,” I hiss under my breath.
Water drips from his hair, and his clothes are soaked. I hate that he’s as hot as he is. I hate that my heart aches a little looking into his eyes.