Hustle

I lean on the wall at my back and try to slow the spinning. But when I close my eyes, it only picks up speed and I almost fall over. My heart is pounding and stomach rolls. From the alcohol. From Andrew. From the smell of liquor and bodies in the air. It’s time to call it a night.

Steadying myself to walk, I search the line for the bathroom, but Rose isn’t there.

“Hey, no cutting.” Someone nudges my shoulder and jerks her thumb behind her. She looks like a librarian stripper, glasses, bun, tight skirt, and button top with very little buttons fastened.

“I’m looking for my friend. Maybe she’s in there? Purple hair?” I wave my hand over my hair but the girl only rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know who’s in there, but they’re taking forever.” She swings her fist on the door, her stink face only adds to the librarian image.

There’s no answer so I try the knob. With a little nudge, it swings open. A girl, without purple hair, is laid on the floor, wrapped around the toilet, asleep.

“Get out,” the librarian yells and then turns to me. “Get your friend out.”

“Not my friend,” I mumble as I walk into the bathroom anyways to help the drunk girl.

“Hey.” I kneel next to her and give her shoulders a shake. “Let’s get up.” I lift her upper body a little as she groans into consciousness.

“Deena?” She slurs.

“No, it’s Brook. Let’s get up, and I’ll help you find your friends.”

“I’ll sleep.” She swipes her hand at me, but her aim is way off.

“All right, but not in the bathroom.” I wrap my arm around her waist and raise her to her feet. She’s bigger than me, and I struggle under every pound of her.

The moment I step out of the bathroom, the Librarian rushes in and closes the door.

“You have a phone on you? Can you call your friends?”

She turns her head to me, but I can’t even be sure her eyes are open as her smile floats up her face. “You’re nice.”

“Layla, there you are.” A girl shrieks and runs towards us, a couple of people following her. “How fucked up are you?” The new girl slides her arm around the other side of Layla, taking some of the weight off of me. “Ew, is that throw up?”

“Probably. I found her in the bathroom.” I begin to unwrap my arm, and then she begins to fall, so I stay put.

The girl turns to Layla. “Having fun, girl?”

Layla’s head rolls onto her friend’s shoulder, but otherwise no response.

“Grant, help me with her. We’ll take her back to the sorority.” She gestures to one of the people who followed her over.

Grant slips into my spot, and I step back with relief. “Thanks,” he says over his shoulder as they walk away.

Now, it was time to actually find Rose. She was clearly not in the bathroom anymore.

I follow the crowd streaming into the kitchen, careful not to get pulled into the group going the opposite way. Too many people made for a strong current in the narrow hall.

Catcalls and whistles swirl around me, but I can’t see over the people. I nudge my way through, wanting to get to an open spot to scan the area.

Lifting my gaze to the top of the crowd, I spot Andrew’s tall frame walking up the stairs in the back of the kitchen. A girl trails close behind him. Then they disappear. That could have been me, but I guess I should be glad it wasn’t. Despite my best efforts, jealousy burns in my chest.

Cheers roar around me, pulling my attention back to the room. Then Rose’s purple ponytail is in sight, way above the crowd as she climbs onto a table.

Pushing through the heated mass of bodies in front of me, I make my way to where she is. Someone has her hand, helping her to lie down on the kitchen counter. My eyes travel up the thick arm holding her to an even thicker neck. It’s TJ, the guy from earlier.

Rose slides the bottom of her shirt up with a giggle. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” TJ exclaims, sprinkling a line of salt over her lower stomach. “Now stay still,” he orders and places a shot just under her chest.

“Rose,” I get her attention as I shove past the last big guy in my way.

Her eyes cut to me, but she stays still. “Brook. Hey, I’m doing a body shot,” she explains. “You should try next.”

“You can take this one, if you want,” TJ offers as he picks up a lime wedge.

“No. I’m good.” I was. Earlier I had been swirling, but just now, I’m a little more grounded. I need to stay this way to get home.

“All right. Open up, baby doll.” He sets the lime between her teeth, then flashes the room a grin before sweeping down and licking along her stomach, slower than necessary. Her body shivers under his tongue. Picking up the shot with his mouth, he tilts his head back, and drops the empty glass into his hand. Then he dives back down to her mouth and the lime.

The crowd cheers when he pops up with the lime between his lips.

Another guy steps up instantly. “My turn.”

Rose props onto her elbows, eyes still on TJ.

“Nope, choose a new girl. We’ve got to go,” I dismiss the guy and grab her hand. “Come on, it’s late. I thought we were leaving.”

“We were.” Her head lolls towards me, her light eyes glassy. “But I didn’t want to interrupt you and Andrew.” She slides her arm around my shoulder as she sweeps her legs off the counter, about to drop down. “What happened?”

TJ picks her up, large hands on her waist as he sets her to the floor. “Don’t leave yet. The party’s just starting.” He looks around the packed kitchen.

“It’s almost three.” I really am done with the night; the alcohol and events make me crave my bed.

“Come on, baby doll.” He gives up on talking to me and encourages Rose.

She looks between us with regret as she takes a large breath. “I’ve got to go. We promised.” She sways her arm towards me. “We stay together at these things.”

“Okay,” he groans but pulls her close. “This once. But next time, you’re my date. No promises.”

She giggles, and it’s unlike any giggle I’ve heard from her before, full of nerves. Stepping out of his grip, she says goodbye, and then we walk through the maze of people, out the front door, and into the humid night.

We slide into one of the many cabs lined along frat row. She passes out before the two minute drive to our dorms is over.

I hustle to the dorm room, wanting out of the rain and wet clothes. I hadn’t brought my umbrella to class, hadn’t known I’d need it, but the freak thunderstorm came out of nowhere.

“Jeeze, it’s really bad out there,” I exclaim, entering our room and tossing my book bag on the ground at the foot of my bed. I spin and pause. “Oh my God, sorry.” I backtrack and step out of the room with a slam of the door. “Sorry,” I manage as I cringe at what I walked in on.

TJ and Rose had been in bed. I really don’t know what they were doing, but the way the sheets were pulled up around them and the look on Rose’s face made it clear that it was something I wasn’t meant to walk in on. “Lock the door next time,” I yell through the closed door.

“Don’t go away. Give us a minute. Just—” She breaks off with a laugh, and then some scuffling and soft thumps come from the room.

I’m about to bolt to avoid hearing them.

“Wait. We need your help.”

“What?” my voice comes out as a squeak. “Ew, no.”

The door swings open, and Rose rolls her eyes as she adjusts the bottom of her shirt. “Not like that. TJ needs a lift back to his place. But I thought we could hang out there a bit. Some of his friends are coming over.”

I look past her. In the room, TJ pauses from picking up his belongings to flash me a smile. “Just a couple people hanging out. Come on, roommate, it’s a chill way to spend a Wednesday.”

Rose is silently mouthing, “please, please, please.”

“All right, let me just change out of these jeans. They’re soaked.”

Rose lights up and pushes the door open wider. “Out TJ. We’ll meet you in the lobby in a sec.”

After I change into a skirt and tank top and Rose gave me some details—she invited him over after class, they were heavy petting, no sex yet—we were on our way.

TJ’s house is on the edge of campus, not a far drive. Some others are already in the living room, playing some war game on whatever system they have. They might as well be speaking a foreign language for as little as I understand.

There are no introductions made, and Rose and I take a seat on the love-seat to the side of the main couch. One of the guys not playing the game nods over at us, and I smile back.

TJ sits beside him and slaps his shoulder. “You got any green.”

“Always, but are you sure?” He responds, lifting up in his seat to pull a bag from his pants pockets.

“Yeah, we just had our tests; I’m good this week.”

The boy hands over the bag, falling back in his seat with a grin. “I don’t want to be the one responsible if you get kicked off the team.” He directs his grin at us. “Y’all didn’t see shit, ya heard? I was never here.”

“Not saying a word.” I zip my lips and sit up, eyeing the bag. I know what it is, I’d seen my sister’s stash before, but I’d never tried it myself. To be so close to it gives me an odd feeling, a fizzy adrenaline and I’m having a hard time sitting still.

The front door opens and closes in the other room, adding to my nerves.

“Drew, that you?” TJ yells while breaking up the buds from the bag onto the coffee table.

“Yeah. Fuck, coach sucked dick today. I had to stay extra, where were you?” Andrew’s question trails off as he walks into the room. His eyes land on me, and then slide to everyone else.

But my eyes are stuck on him. His shirt is soaked through, clinging to his chest and arms. And his dark hair drips from the rain, curling at his forehead and neck.

“I went in this morning.” TJ’s cracks a blunt between his thumbs.

“So did I.” Andrew’s lips slide up as he watches him. “I’ve got to shower. But save me some, and not the roach either.”

“Then hurry the fuck up.”

He walks down the hall and slides his shirt over his head as he goes, giving me a good view of his back, of the lean muscles going down to a trim waist, and a large tattoo over his shoulder blades.

“You smoke?” The other guy on the couch asks.

“Sure. Sometimes,” Rose responds, but she told me before she’s only done it twice. For a tattooed covered, died haired, rock and roll t-shirt wearing girl, she’s surprisingly straight edge. Well, besides the drinking. I was disappointed and relieved to discover that about her. I needed help breaking out of my shell, but she couldn’t be my guide, she was on the same journey.

“Never tried it before,” I give an honest answer.

“What?” Another guy sets down his controller to face me. “How old are you?”

I didn’t realize it’d be that surprising, but everyone seems shocked. “Turned eighteen last month.”

“Well, happy fucking birthday. We’re getting you high.” TJ strikes his lighter and brings it to the end of the rolled blunt.

“I’m not sure.” I try and smile, but I know it’s shaky. “You all go first.”

He takes a few puffs, and then passes it to the next person. It’s made it to three of them when Andrew comes strolling back into the living room.

Andrew plucks it from the guy’s hand and places it between his lips as he walks over to Rose and I. His cool green eyes are steady on mine, the tip of the blunt burning bright while he inhales. Then he lets out his breath, and the smoke curls around him as he extends the cigar to me. “You smoke, Brook?”

And I don’t know what chokes me up most, the smoke around us, the drugs being offered to me, or the fact that he just spoke my name. I’d never told him my name. But my heart’s slamming in my chest just from him saying it.

“I, uh—” I wipe my palms on my bare legs, and then pull at the bottom of my skirt, avoiding looking at him. I couldn’t. Those eyes are too distracting. “I—”

“She never has before,” TJ speaks up.

He cocks his head towards me. “That true?”

I nod, sneaking a glance.

His jawline flexes as he pulls the blunt back to his lips. “That’s good.” He takes another puff and then passes it to TJ.

TJ pauses for second. “I told her I’d get her high.”

“That’s okay. I’m fine.” I was starting to squirm under Andrew’s gaze. It heated all of my exposed skin, and more.

Andrew bends to the coffee table and grabs a cotton ball size bud of weed from the bag. “I’ll take care of that.” He picks up my hand with his free one. “Come with me.”

“What?” I gasp as he pulls me to my feet. I looked towards Rose, but she just wiggles her fingers in farewell, a too large smile on her face.

He doesn’t respond as he pulls me to the back hallway, back to a different room than he had went in earlier.

And I don’t resist for some reason. I just stupidly follow. But my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts as I enter into the smaller den type room. A large bay window is opposite the door, a computer and desk are to one side, and a futon is along the other wall.

“What are we doing?” I stand in the center of it all, watching him.

He stops in front of the couch. “Whatever you want. If you want to smoke” —He reaches behind the couch and pulls out a bong— “I have this. But if you don’t, then…” He shrugs. “We can do something else.”

“I guess I could try.” I step to the couch.

“Don’t do it if you don’t want to. I’m not pressuring you.” He sits on the couch, arms spread along the back, looking completely relaxed, and something in the casual stance with that confident smile has my stomach flipping. Or maybe it’s those predator eyes, always scanning over me. They’re focused on my legs and then slide up to meet my eyes. “Sit.”

I sit with a good space between us, but his reach is long enough to still be behind me.

“Do you live here?” I cringe at my own question. “Sometimes I just talk to hear myself.” I close my eyes and seal my lips to stop talking.

The tickle of fingers on my shoulder makes my heart speed up. “You don’t need to talk.” That low, smoky, sexy as hell tone is back, and I’m about to pop out of my skin.

“But I want to. I want to talk. I think we should.” But my voice is strained and breathy as he slides closer, his fingers gliding up my neck and back down. “Where did you use to live? Before you lived here? Or I mean, here in college? I mean—” I gasp as his other hand slides to my knee.

His laugh is a deep vibration. “Do you really want to talk? I’m from Florida, Homestead.” His fingers inch up my inner thigh and a tingle runs up my leg, making me clench them together as I heat up. He dips his warm, soft lips to my neck, trailing them up.

I’m panting. I can hear myself, but I can’t seem to stop. He’s wreaking havoc on my senses, a delicious high from his touches, his scent, his closeness, his gritty voice. But I can’t move. My hands are stuck to my side.

“Are we done talking?” He asks as his lips brush my chin. I turn towards him and his mouth crashes into mine, overtaking me.

My hands lift to his chest, curling the fabric of his shirt into my fists, the heat of him still on the cloth.

He’s leaning over me, one hand gripping my hair, pulling it tight to angle my face as his tongue circles mine. His other hand though, oh, his other hand is grazing my inner thigh, and rising higher. I shift under his touch, my hips wanting to move towards him as his fingers make me crave more. His thumb skims the edge of my underwear and sweet heat builds there. It’s thrilling, and I don’t know whether I’m shaking from pleasure or nerves.

His fingers slip inside my panties, and he groans into my mouth. “You’re already wet, baby.”

He widens my legs with his body, pushing me back onto the couch as he hovers over me. His sweatpants are smooth against my thighs, but allow me to feel everything, including his hardness, all the way to my stomach. It shocks me.

“Stop.” I’m pushing on his chest. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry. It’s— I don’t know what I’m doing. That was too fast”

He’s off of me, sitting beside me, not touching me. “Too fast?”

I pull my skirt down, looking at my knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re going to make me work for it?” He’s laughing. At me.

I’m burning now, only made more embarrassed by the ache still between my legs. I rise to my feet. “I’m going to go.”

“No wait. Sit back down. I’ll take it slow.”

For once I don’t sit when he tells me to. “Okay. Good. But I still think I’m going to go.” I don’t want to be only wanted for something physical.

“What if we talk?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk?”

He grabs my hand, pulling me down to sit next to him. “That’s when I thought we could do something else. But if you won’t let me fuck you, then I’ll take talking to you over you leaving.”

“Really?” I don’t know what to say to that. It probably wasn’t even a good thing, but I’m not sure of anything around him. Yet, I stay seated.

He doesn’t respond to my question, just grins. And I know I’m in trouble because one glance at that smirk makes me dizzy.

I cut my eyes to his hands; he’s pinching off a piece of green bud between his fingers and leans forward to fill the bong.

“Don’t you need to wash your hands?”

He raises a brow and pauses to ask, “Why?”

“Because…” I can’t say it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it, but I could feel the slickness between my legs still, where his fingers had been.

“Why, Brook?” His dizzying smile becomes teasing and heart stopping as he runs those fingers over his lips, innocently enough, like he’s considering something, but his green eyes deepen as he watches me.

My hands fly to my face, covering my embarrassment. “Forget I said anything.”

His warm touch wraps around my wrists, and he pulls my arms down. His laughter is louder than the blood rushing through me.

“What’s wrong?”

All my focus is on his grip until I look up into those eyes. That strong jaw softens with his laughter and his dimples show.

“You know why. You can’t just go around with… on you.” I cringe with a groan. “And now it’s on the weed, and you’re going to smoke it. Oh my—”

He’s full on laughing now.

“I don’t know why you think it’s so funny. You need to wash your hands before you touch anything else.”

He drops my wrists, but his hands slide to my thighs, tugging me towards him. “When we’re done, I will. I’ve barely touched you, but I like you on me. I don’t want it off. I want more.”

“You said we’d talk.” My stomach clenches and heat surfaces, prickling my skin.

“We’re talking. We’ll keep talking. But I don’t think I can keep my hands off of you.” The tips of his fingers skim under the edge of my skirt. He lifts his gaze to me, and I don’t know what he sees because I’m equal parts on fire and frozen. Scared and excited. About to flee, but about to tackle him, too.

His hand leaves my thigh to lift my chin, making me meet his eyes. “Is that okay? That I keep touching you?”

It’s beyond me to say no, but I’m not sure I can’t say yes either.

“Have you been touched before, Brook?” It’s a lusty whisper.

He needs to stop talking. He needs to stop saying my name. He makes it sound intimate and dirty. It’s driving me crazy. And his intense gaze lights me on fire, heating me to combustion.

So I try to change the subject “Weren’t you going to smoke? I didn’t think football players could. Do you do that often?”

He drops back on the couch and his hands leave me. The absence of his touch is felt everywhere.

“We can’t. I don’t do it often. There are only a few days a year where I can.” His eyes narrow. “Why, you going to tell on me?”

“No.” I squeak with the accusation. “I was just talking. I wouldn’t—”

He waves me away and picks up the bong. “I’m just fucking with you. It’d be your word against mine, nothing you could prove anyways.”

I watch, sinking in silence, as he puts the opening of the bong to his lips. The tube fills with thick grey smoke. His breath seems endless as he sucks it down, then he leans back and releases it in slow swirls. A pungent, earthy, scent fills the air.

He’s still watching me with a critical gaze. He said he was joking, but everything feels different now.

“Maybe we should go back out there with the others.” I look towards the door, not wanting to end it like this, but not knowing how to save it.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t want to be around me. You keep trying to run away.”

“I’m just not sure how this goes.” My fingers grip around the cushions, holding me in place.

“Don’t overthink it.” He brushes the hair off my shoulder and relaxes back in his seat. “I don’t want to be around them tonight. This is my one night off; I’m taking it. You can stay with me or go out there, your call. But I want you to stay.”

“You do?” I close my lips on my over eager words, cringing at how needy I sound. “I mean, it’s your night off, and if you’d prefer to be alone, you won’t hurt my feelings.”

“Stop. Relax.” He pats my knee as he sits up and picks up the bong again. “I don’t want to be out there because I’m always with a group, always on. Tonight, I’m relaxing, and yeah, I want you here. You’re nice to look at.” He winks at me and hesitates before putting his lips back on the bong. “Fun to play with, too.”

Like a fool, I only focus on the compliment. He thinks I’m pretty. A bubble of delight forms in my chest. I sit back, and he turns to me, blowing smoke into the air.

“Did you want to try?” He sets the tall glass on the coffee table. “Your call.”

When I hesitate he demands, “Say no.”

“No.” And his returning smile puts me at ease, but my desire for his approval leaves me unsteady.

“Where are you from Brook?” A smile pulls on his lip as his gaze lingers over me.

“Here.” I let out my breath but stay tense, nervous about the new direction. “Well actually, Kingstree, two towns over.”

“Did you go to a private school?”

I shake my head. “Did you?”

“For a little bit, but you seem… different.” He stares like I’m different, something to be studied.

“Why? Because I haven’t smoked?” All my confidence from his earlier compliment vanishes, and I drop my eyes to my hands tangled on my lap.

“There it is again. That innocence. You don’t even try and hide it.”

“Oh, I’m trying to hide it. I’m just not very good at it. You are making me nervous.”

His white teeth shows as he laughs, and his hand lands back on my thigh. “I can tell.”

“I can’t be the only one. I imagine you make lots of girls nervous.”

“Not really.” There’s a playful spark in his eyes that’s dangerous, that could talk me into anything. “Not when we’re alone anyways. But those aren’t virgins. You are a virgin, aren’t you?”

Since I’m clearly see through, I nod, determined not to be embarrassed about this.

His reaction is painful. The way his eyes shut, and he swipes his hand over his face is louder than anything he could say. All that’s missing is a groan.

I’m about to stand when he sits up and grabs my hand.

“How the hell does that happen?” His eyes run down my body and back up. “You’re sexy, guys had to have noticed you.”

“I want to be more than noticed.” But the truth is, I wasn’t noticed, not in that way. All people noticed about me was my sister. Which is probably why I’m still sitting here now, clinging to the attention he’s giving, it has nothing to do with her.

His smile is slow forming. “So how far have you gone?”

“That’s not—” I shake my head, his clouded gaze dries up my ability to talk. “You can’t ask that.”

He dips his head, looking up at me through thick lashes. “I need to know. Before we take this farther, I need to know.”

“We’re only talking, and I think I shared enough for now. What about you?”

“I think you know I’m not a virgin.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I laugh too loud and slap his arm, overly excited to release the built up tension. It’s like a train wreck that I can’t walk away from. “How long have you been at Eastern? Did you live in Florida all your life? Any after college plans?”

“Are you serious? That’s what you want to talk about?” His smiles have vanished, but this new hard look is as sexy as it is intimidating.

I shrug. “We can talk about something else.”

“Always lived in Florida, until I came here. I’m a junior, and it’s the NFL after this.” He stares at me like he’s sizing me up. “But you already knew that.”

“Not really. I mean, maybe I should have. I could have guessed most of it.” I shake away my confused response, reaching for a safe topic. “When did you fall in love with football?”

The lines in his jaw ease, and the corner of his lip tugs up some. “Fall in love? That’s one way to put it.”

“What would you call it?”

He moves in slow motion, dropping his eyes to his fingers as they slide to my leg again. “It’s what I was made for. It’s what I live and breathe for. I didn’t fall in love with it, it possessed me. It’s who I am.”

“I’m sure there’s more to you than that.” I cover his hand on my knee; I don’t even think he realizes it’s there.

“Not anything that matters,” he states it like it’s a simple fact.

“What about your family? Do they—”

“So many damn questions? What the hell is this? An interview?”

“I just—”

“You’re just nosey as hell.” He pulls his hand away, his knee bouncing. “And this twenty questions is getting fucking annoying.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” It takes a moment to calm myself from his angry outburst. “I was curious about you, but it wasn’t my intent to offend you or upset you.” I’m frozen in place as I apologize, and only take a breath when he turns to look at me.

“Fuck. Now you’re going to make me look like the asshole here.” His hands scratch through his hair, setting the short, loose curls wild. “Do you have to be so polite?”

“Would it be better if I traded insults with you instead?” I lift my hand with the question, honestly confused. “There was no need to snap at me in the first place. If I’m getting too close, just tell me, I’ll back off.”

That dangerous glint is back in his eyes, but I can’t look away, it sucks me in. His anger is covered with something else now, something heated and intense, and he inches towards me, voice just as slow. “I don’t want you to back off.” His hands grip either side of my waist, and the fabric of my shirt bunches under the flex of his fingers. “I’ve been trying to get close all night.”

He tugs me forward, and I fall into him, unprepared. I brace my hands and forearms on his chest as he wraps his arms around me, one hand sliding up my back to my neck with a wave of heat and electricity that has my heart dancing. His other hand drops lower, gripping my butt as he pulls me onto his lap. It all happens in one breath, and just that quick, he has me straddling his lap, and his lips are sucking on my neck.

My gasps are a mix of pleasure and shock as his hands continue to move me, melting me. I never realized someone could mold me so effortlessly.

His hair is thick and silky between my fingers as I run them over his scalp, something I wanted to do since I saw those wet curls earlier. But as his teeth scrape my collarbone and his chin pushes down my top, I curl my fingers in his hair and pull his head back, off of me.

“Whoa.” I need to catch my breath, but the look in his eyes make it hard, his hands on my hips, holding me against him, make it damn near impossible. “This isn’t what I meant.”

A sly smile glides across those lips that had felt great on my skin, and his fingers bite into my hips as he rubs me against him. The friction there makes me squirm, and I have to close my eyes or lose control.

“Then tell me to stop.” But he doesn’t stop; he tests my weakened grip on his hair and dips his head, licking up my neck.

All the sensations, hot and cool, pressure and tingles, force out the moan that I’ve trapped in the back of my throat.

His lips glide up into a large smile against my skin as his breath bounces in my ear, but his laugh cuts off when I find my voice.

“Stop.”

He freezes, lips still on my ear. “What?”

“Stop.” I remove his hands from me and stand. “This was…” I take a breath and step away. “But it’s too fast. I told you that.”

He nods, watching me as he slides his hands over his legs, but he doesn’t move to get up. He doesn’t say anything as I continue to back away, not until I’m at the door. “Have a good night, Brook.”

“Yeah, you too.” Everything in me is chaos, every inch of me is on fire, but I step out of the room, closing the door behind me. I gulp in the cool air-conditioned air and walk down the hall to the living room, gaining a little more control with every step.

But the living room is empty, and the house is silent. Everyone is gone, including Rose.