Page 25 of Sweet Girl
Carver’s eyes are hazel, but when he looks me in the eye they are darker than I’ve ever seen them. They’re filled with the same pain I feel right now. Interesting.
It’s gone in a flash and he uses both palms to smack my chest, right above my pecs.
“Okay...good talk. Now, let’s go out and celebrate our win tonight by getting drunk off our asses. And maybe get laid in the process.” He turns and then flicks his gaze back to me, his eyebrow quirked up. “Well, at least one of us is getting laid. And it ain’t you, buddy.”
Carver laughs boisterously and turns the corner, leaving me standing there wondering what just passed between us. What he just said makes me wonder if he really does know the heartache of a break-up. I suppose there’s a lot I don’t know about Carver. We all have a past. Maybe he’s just hiding his better than the rest.
I decide to go out with the guys after the game and it does feel good to let loose. We don’t drink much during the season, but the holidays are nearing and the semester is almost over, so we need to get in some final hurrah’s before we all leave for break.
I’m a little drunk – but not wasted - as I head back to my dorm when I realize I haven’t checked my phone since earlier in the day. Pulling it out, I notice several texts and voicemail notifications, along with my Twitter and Instagram feeds. A lot of congratulations on the win – from my parents, friends and family. A couple of girls I’m in classes with have texted offering to come celebrate with me. I consider it for less than a second, when my eyes land on a text from Kylah.
I laugh out loud when I read it.
Kylah: What’s next? Kicking an old lady when she’s fallen and can’t get up?
Kylah: Geez, Van. You big bully, you.
Kylah: Remind me never to get on your bad side. Or fall down in front of you.
Kylah: Cuz your foot’s bigger than my head. You could do some damage.
Kylah: Anyway, glad you won. Now be nice from now on. BTW – when does your break start?
This was the last one she sent and it came in over an hour ago. I check the time and wonder if it’s too late to call her. It’s after midnight, but I know she’s a night owl. She’s very studious and serious about doing well in school, so I’m guessing she’s up. Just in case, I text her first.
Me: Yeah, not my finest hour. It’s been a pretty shitty couple of weeks. But no excuse. I did apologize to Blanchard afterwards. We good.
Me: And I’d never do that to you. You’re too sweet.
I laugh again because I know she hates being called sweet. During one of our recent conversations she admitted wanting to shed herself of that reputation, although I don’t see how she could. It’s just her nature.
I see the three dots pop up and know she’s up and responding.
Kylah: That’s good to know. But hey - I am NOT SWEET!
Me: Oh yeah? Prove it. Tell me one thing you’ve done that was mean?
I wait for her response. I can just envision her, sitting cross-legged on her dorm bed, pondering her recent actions and behaviors, hoping to isolate one instance where she wasn’t the nice girl that I know she is. A nice girl who’s smoking hot, nonetheless. It’s not like I haven’t been affected by Kylah.
Even though I’m not in a good place emotionally right now, that doesn’t mean my body hasn’t taken notice of her. In fact, the night I got wasted at Cade’s apartment, after the bomb was dropped on me, there was a moment when we were in the bathroom where I was about to put the moves on her. I wanted to kiss her so bad – to get a taste of her pretty pink lips. To lean in and suck at the indent of her throat, where I knew she would take like mango or something just as fruity.
Looking back, I’m glad I did get sick that night, because chances are I would’ve done something stupid to ruin our friendship. I was strung so tightly, I felt the coils would’ve burst and she was right there to help me unwind the fury and rage that had me so wrapped up in anger.
Just then, a thought hits me, smack in the head. Although we’ve gotten to know one another over the last few months and spent a few hours in each other’s company, nothing has happened between us. We’ve only been friends this whole time because...well, because of Lyndsay.
But now Lyndsay’s out of the picture. For the first time in over five years, I’m free to date whomever I want. Kiss whomever I want. Fuck whomever I want. Ah, shit.
It’s like my brain finally peeled back the covers on what I’d tried to keep hidden away in the dark corners of my mind. The fact that Ireally like Kylah. And I know she really likes me.
I’m not being cocky or full of myself. It’s fairly obvious when she looks at me that she wants something more. I’ve denied the attraction up ’til now, but she makes me horny. She’s funny. Smart. Adorably geeky. And she has a smoking hot body. Just the thought has my dick chubbing-out.
I’m screwed.
What the hell am I going to do with this attraction? Absolutely nothing. Because Number one, she goes to school in California and I vowed that I am never doing a long-distance relationship again. I’m not about to get trapped into having to trust from afar, only to find out I’ve been played by someone I love.
And Number two—Cade.
Enough said.
