“So you’re just going to fuck her to make a point.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not fucking her. She’s my girlfriend, and while that might get your jock in a twist because you’ve been holding a torch for her for a long time, that’s just too damn bad. She’s not your girlfriend. She’s not your sister. You can’t go around tagging all the single ladies on campus you might want someday saying that they’re off-limits. Doesn’t work that way.”
“So what? You want to take away my position on the team and take away my best friend too?” he hurls bitterly.
Clenched jaw, I look at him in frustration. “I don’t want to do either.”
“But you will do both if you want, is that what you’re saying?” He sneers. “Stay away from her, Iverson. She’s too good for you.” He stalks to the door. When he gets there he turns around, “And I’m not moving from quarterback. I earned that goddamned position, and Coach Lowe will have to pry me out of there with a backhoe. You can spread that around the defense along with all your other messages.”
He slams the door behind him, his exit something out of a fricking soap opera. Quarterbacks and their fucking prima donna attitudes. I drop my head into my hands. So much for taking an easy and nice route with Ace.
I could do a better job screwing up my life, but not by much. At least I have Luce. I cling to that.
29
Lucy
“Do you have time to go to the mall with me?” Matty asks when he picks up the phone. He texted and asked if I’d call him when I had a chance, and the first opportunity I’ve had all day is my mid-evening break during my shift at the Brew House.
“Sure, you run out of Under Armour shirts and sweatpants?”
“Har har. Never heard you complain.”
“I’m more interested in what you’ve got under your clothes,” I tease.
“Tell me more.”
I lean my head against brick exterior of the Brew House and conjure up a vision of Matty sitting in his desk chair with his feet up, wearing his sweatpants and a tight workout shirt that clings to all of his muscles. “No. I’m taking a break and I don’t want to get excited.”
“Mmm. This is like a challenge. Do you think I could get you off, just talking to you? Like telling you how if I was there I’d be on my knees, kissing your pussy until you cream all over me.”
“Matthew Justin Iverson, you need to be quiet right now.” I turn hot enough to melt the snow.
He chuckles. “You’re bringing out the big guns.”
“Matthew…”
He swallows his next laugh and tries to soothe me. “I swear no more talk about your sweet pussy and my hard dick.”
“I’m hanging up now.” My panties are becoming uncomfortably damp.
“Seriously. Shutting up. My mom’s birthday is coming up in a week and I need to buy her a gift. You in?”
“Yes.” I find that’s the only response I ever seem to give him these days.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at your apartment around five and we can have dinner out by the mall. There’s a vegan restaurant not too far away.”
Now my heart’s melting. “I’ll be off in two hours.”
“Cool.” He pauses.
“What?”
“Love you, Goldie.”
He hangs up before I can respond. He’s such a devil. And I love it. And him.
He picks me up right on the mark. I bring him a spiced cider from the Brew House and give him a long, thorough kiss.
“So are you telling me that you don’t want to go to the mall?” he jokes after I let him go.
“No, that’s my ‘I love you, too’ kiss.”
His eyes gleam with warmth. “I like those kisses.”
“There’s more where that came from.”
“Yeah? How many condoms we got left?”
“We’re perilously low,” I tell him. “We should make a detour tonight.”
“Detour? Hell, it will be our first stop.”
“Before we leave, here’s this.” I present the gift I’ve been working on for the past week.
“What’s this?” He leans against the door panel and hefts the gold-wrapped package for inspection.
“It’s for you. Someone told me it was your birthday.” I sidle in beside him to look at the present.
Matty flips the package around with both hands while sliding me an amused glance. “Last October.”
I shrug. “I missed Valentine’s Day.”
“Hmm,” he muses. “That was last week, wasn’t it? Hammer was going off about how he was writing about how to give the best Valentine’s Day blow job, but I figured he was writing ahead.”
I hurry to assure him that I’m not upset because I’m totally not. I didn’t expect any Valentine’s Day present. “I hate that made-up holiday. I’m so glad we didn’t do anything.”
“You sure?”
Is he kidding? I couldn’t have a more attentive boyfriend. Yes, we don’t do a million things together because we’re both busy, but he’s there when I need him. He listens to me vent about mock trial, about the stress of midterms, about my mother. He holds my hand when I confess I’m scared of the upcoming competition and doesn’t deride me for being overly cautious.
And, most importantly, even though he goes out with his boys now and then, I haven’t seen any pictures of him with his arms around another girl, which makes me feel a little foolish for having any concerns about him in the first place.