I can only imagine what the bruising looks like when you add in the tackles I took tonight. I’m so lost in my head, I forgot about making sure the bruises were covered.
“That defender was a big fucker.” I play it off like it’s not a big deal, but I know he can see through it. We’ve been friends long enough for him to know my dad is a mean drunk.
“You coming to the party?”
“You know it. I could use a fucking beer.”
He smacks my shoulder and leaves while I tie my shoes.
I grab my bag and head out toward my truck. A hand grabs my arm when I’m only a few steps out of the locker room.
“What the fuck?” Spinning around, ready to pummel someone, I stop short when I see it’s my dad standing over me. “What the fuck do you want?”
“You better watch how you talk to me.” He sneers at me, pushing me into the shadows where we’re less likely to be seen.
My body aches from the last round I went with him and then the beating I took on the field. I don’t know how much more damage I can take and still act like nothing is wrong. With a hand to my chest, he shoves me into the wall, and I hiss through my teeth.
“What the hell was that out there? You played like shit,” he growls.
“We won, didn’t we? Maybe I would play better if my ribs weren’t cracked.” I shove him away from me and take a step from the wall. “Keep your fucking hands off me.”
The back of his hand connects with my check and my head snaps to the side, pain explodes across my face.
My hand comes up to rub my jaw, hoping it’s not broken and that my teeth stay in place. I spit blood on the concrete and look up at him with every ounce of hate that I have for him clear on my face.
“I will dance on your grave.” I turn my back on him and walk away, knowing I’m in no condition to take him on.
I can’t beat him, not when I’m already trying to heal. I can’t take another beating right now, so I have to walk away before I rile him up.
“There you are.” Mary’s voice has me dropping my hand from my face.
Fuck. Did she see my father?
“Hey. You ready to head to Blakes’s?”
She steps up next to me and I drape my arm around her shoulders. Her arm wraps around my waist, and I flinch. She stops walking, forcing me to stop.
Concern is written across her face as she eyes me, looking for evidence of what made me tense up.
“I’m fine. Just took a few tackles. My back is sore.” I reach for her hand and she accepts it, threading our fingers together.
Hopefully, it’s dark enough, long enough, for my face to no longer be red when she sees it. Jonah is leaning against my truck, watching us as we get closer. His eyes are glued to our hands, his body stiff, like he wants to say something.
At the tailgate, I swing my bag into the bed with a loud thunk, and his eyes swing up to my face, zeroing in on my cheek. His eyes narrow, trying to get a better look, but I turn my face just enough to obscure his view. I don’t need his damn questions.
“A’ight, get in, Bible Boy.” I unlock the truck with my key fob.
Jonah gets in the back seat and I close his door to open the front for Mary. I help her in and close the door for her. I’m a Southern gentleman, after all.
The drive out to Blake’s is quick and quiet; everyone seeming to be lost in their own heads. When we pull up, there are cars parked all over and the party is in full swing. I smile at the ruckus before me. This is exactly what I need.
Jonah, Mary, and I exit the truck, and I grab Mary’s hand to keep her with me. I can’t have her getting lost and someone trying to move in. Not that they would. By now, everyone knows she’s mine.
There’s country music blasting inside, red Solo cups litter the yard, and people are already puking. I chuckle at a few of my teammates heading upstairs with a girl to share between them. Debauchery at its best.
Mary stops behind me, and I turn to see what has caught her attention. In the living room there are a few cheerleaders giving lap dances to a few of the football players. Not that long ago, I would have been among them.
Looking back at Mary and Jonah, I smile at the shock on their faces. They are so out of their element. It’s obvious they’ve never been to a kegger. Mary’s hand comes up to her throat as she watches.
Leaning in close, I whisper in her ear, my eyes locked on Jonah. “Welcome to after parties.”
“We shouldn’t be here,” Jonah says, pulling Mary’s arm. “What would Dad say?”
“Oh, come on, Bible Boy. Have some fun.” I walk around behind him and grab his arms to shake him a bit. “Live a little.”
“We’re already here. We may as well hang out for a while.” Mary’s eyes don’t leave the cheerleaders, now straddling the guys and grinding against them with their lips locked.
I reach for her hand again, and she lets me pull her away from the scene.
Interesting.
Sweet little Mary is a dirty girl after all.
A predatory smile takes over my face. The want to ruin her is too strong.
The kitchen has the keg, bottles of liquor, and mixers lining the counters with people mixing their own drinks. The crowd here is a mix of high schoolers and postgraduates, most of the older people being men in their early twenties looking for drunk high school chicks to fuck. To each their own.
I pour a beer from the keg and hand the red cup to Mary. She takes it, looking around, and takes a sip. Her face scrunches as she lowers the cup, obviously not enjoying the flavor.
“It’s an acquired taste,” I chuckle, lifting my cup to my lips. “You’ll get used to it.”
I chug my beer and toss my cup in the pile where the trash can should be. It’s so overloaded, you can’t see it anymore.
My hand travels along her waist to settle at her lower back. I pull her toward me until there’s only an inch of space keeping us apart. Her breathing hitches, her cheeks flush, and her eyes drop to my lips.
Mary’s hands gently travel up my arms to my shoulders until her palms rest against my chest. She wants me to kiss her. I feel it down to the marrow of my bones. I’m betting she’s never been kissed before.
What about Jonah?
Has he ever been kissed before?
Needing the thoughts of Jonah to stop, I brush my lips against Mary’s. She trembles against me, her tits bumping into my chest. I want to lose myself in the feel of this girl. I want to forget my father and the feelings Jonah elicits in me and just disappear into mindlessness. But I can’t.
I can feel his eyes on me. He’s watching my every fucking move. My eyes open, locking on the furious hazel gaze of Jonah Cohen. With his eyes on me, my dick hardens. I move my hand to grip Mary’s hair, changing the angel of the kiss until she moans against me. My tongue slips between her lips to explore her. She’s unpracticed, but a natural, quickly learning what I like.
All the while exploring Mary’s mouth, I don’t look away from Jonah. I can’t. A part of me wishes it was him my lips were locked with. A part of me just wants to see what it’ll take to make him snap. The last part of me just likes to fuck with him.
Fire ignites in his eyes the deeper I take my kiss with Mary, but it’s not anger.
What is it?
Dragging my gaze down his body, my eyes stop at his dick pressed against his pants.