Page 2 of Play With Me
I bet that’s what happened with Xochitl. I bet he simply discarded her. If that’s what happened, she must have been so fucking hurt.
The thought just makes me angrier. Because even though she wounded me by choosing him, I do still like her and would even consider her a friend. She’s nice, sweet even. She deserves better. Most women do. Maybe it’s because I grew up with a single mom and three sisters, but I realize a lot of women are treated terribly by men.
It’s why I’ve always been so intentional about dating. It’s why I’ve always gone out of my way to be kind and respectful to women. Apparently, charm and sex appeal trump that.
I glug down my third beer of the night, feeling slightly buzzed when I make my way outside to look for Colton. He disappeared after a filthy grinding session on the dance floor with a girl I didn’t recognize. When the song changed, I couldn’t locate him anywhere.
It’s like he disappeared into thin air.
The only thing I can think of is he’s outside, making moves on the flowers and trees.
The thought makes me grin stupidly.
If I find him making out with a flower, I will video the shit out of that and spread it around the school. Not that it would change anything. He’d still be the king of the fucking castle. People could see him fucking another dude, and they wouldn’t blink.
I move out back, striding past groups of people lingering and gossiping, and straight into the small forest next to the frat house. Large pines and spruces shadow the trail, making the moonlight almost invisible. It makes it almost impossible to see. Everything is just fog and shades of gray.
I continue walking while sipping my beer, running a hand over my chest as I step over a fallen tree, and I almost trip when I hear a sound before me.
“Look who it is. You following me, Witkoff?”
I freeze, turning my head to see Colton leaning up against a tree, smoke filtering around his face. He blends in with the mist, the shadows, like he’s one of them.
“You smoking?” I manage to ask.
“You gonna tell on me?”
I stare at him and shrug. “Maybe.”
“Yeah. I knew it. But I don’t blame you. You can’t fucking help yourself. You’re boring.”
I bristle because Imaybe a little boring, but I kind of have to be. I’m not a rich fuck who can dick around and have my stepdaddy bribe my way out of the shit I land in. First, I don’t have a dad, not anymore. And second, I’m on a full-ride scholarship to this college. My family lives paycheck to paycheck. We don’t have the luxury of being stupid. I’m not privileged the way he is.
“Maybe I’m just responsible,” I counter, and his dark chuckle slithers over me.
“Or you’re just boring.”
He snuffs the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe and tucks it away in his pocket. I despise how he doesn’t litter. If he did, it would make me hate him more, but he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He must know how much I hate it and is doing it to bother me.
He steps toward me, his dark hair slightly mussed, his shirt completely open now, showing off his abs and a large tattoo extending from his belly button and wrapping around his hip. Can’t quite make out what it is. Not that I care to look that hard.
“You peeking, hm?” he says with an annoying grin. “Most people like what they see.”
“You fucking wish,” I grunt. “And I’m not peeking. I’m just sizing you up.”
“Hm. Youarea lot bigger than me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take you.” As he says this, his shoulder knocks into me, and I push him away.
He stumbles back with a huff and then progresses toward me again, his eyes flashing as he presses both hands onto my chest and shoves. I barely move, and his lips twitch in annoyance or humor, I can’t tell which one.
“You were made to be a rugby player,” he remarks, almost admiringly.
“Fuck yeah, I was.”
“You know, I’ve watched you play before. Watched those thick thighs move across the field. I can see why you’re the fly-half.”
Something hot moves through me at his compliment. “What the fuck are you saying? I’m not gay.”
“Neither am I. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the human form. And you, Myles, have a nice form.”
