“Leave me alone,” I tell her, rolling over on my side so I’m facing the wall.
She doesn’t leave me alone. Instead, she plops her ass on my bed and shakes my shoulder again, her voice insistent. “Come on, J. Tell me what happened with Shep. Is his dick big? Oh wait, more important, does he know what he’s doing with that big dick? I’m surprised you’re back so soon. I figured you’d at least spend the entire night with him. I know I would’ve.”
Oh God, her rambling is going to drive me insane. I squeeze my eyes shut, my head throbbing already. I need water. Hydration. And fries. Fries sound good. Maybe I’m still drunk. “What time is it?” I keep my eyes tightly closed, anticipating Kelli’s reaction when I tell her nothing happened, not even a kiss.
She’s going to blow up. Worse, she’s probably not going to believe me. We are talking about Shepard Prescott, after all. King of the Hookup. I wonder if they have a crown for that title.
“Just after one. I made Dane bring me back. I have class in the morning.”
I roll over, cracking one eye open so I can look at her. “Like you care about your classes all of a sudden?”
Kelli shrugs and looks away. “I wasn’t feeling it. We haven’t been getting along lately.”
I sit up, yanking the sheet up over my chest. It’s cold in our room and my nipples are probably full on headlights right now. “Is everything okay?”
She waves a hand, dismissing my concern. “Don’t worry about it. Tell me about you. About Shep. And you. And his dick in your vagina.”
“Stop.” I shove at her shoulder but she hardly budges. Looks like she’s not going to budge on wanting the details either. “Fine,” I sigh. “Nothing happened.”
Her jaw drops open. “What?”
“I’m serious. Nothing happened. I got drunk on vodka and Red Bull and I almost did a line of coke but otherwise, nothing.”
“What the ever loving…are you fucking serious?” She leaps to her feet. “Where the hell were you when all this went down? Did he take you to a party?”
“No. He took me to dinner, then we had to go to his little underground casino because there was a problem. Some giant guy wouldn’t move from the blackjack table. So we drove over there and I was pissed. I didn’t want to go back to that place. That’s where it all happened, you know?” I twist the edge of the sheet in my hands, mulling over my rotten behavior. God, I’d been so cranky. I didn’t even want to go inside with him. I sat outside like a little kid pouting.
“I do know.” Kelli nods. “Then what happened?”
“Well, he was taking too long and I was waiting in the car. So I got out and met some girls hanging out on the porch. They were sweet. We started drinking, and then they got me drunk. When they offered up a line of coke, I was tempted to snort it.” More than tempted. I was giving about zero fucks at that moment until Shep yelling at us scared the crap out of me.
I’m really, really glad he yelled at us and stopped me from doing something I’d probably regret.
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. Shep came out at that exact moment and stopped me.”
“Aw…” Kelli drawls but I shake my head, cutting her off.
“Then he dragged me out of there, practically pushed me into the car and drove me back to the dorms.” I flop back down on the bed, my head sinking into the too soft, extra cheap pillow. “That’s it.”
Kelli studies me, her gaze narrowed, her lips pursed. She looks full of disbelief. Not to mention disappointment. “That’s really all that happened?”
How can I tell her I threw myself at him and he rejected me? That he refused to kiss me? Talk about humiliation. “That’s it.”
“So he was a perfect gentleman.” The sarcasm is thick in her voice.
“Really. He was.” Sort of. I distinctly recall his hand landing on my ass when he escorted me to the front doors of my dorm hall. A discreet touch, nothing major and when I turned around to glare at him, he smiled, saying, Just making sure it’s real.
What did he mean by that? Like my fat ass is fake?
My phone buzzes at that precise moment, making my pillow vibrate and I pull the phone from beneath it, frowning when I see who’s texting me at one in the morning.
Silently acknowledging the butterflies bouncing in my stomach, I read his text, ignoring Kelli’s repeated requests asking who is it.
Are you asleep?
“It’s Shep,” Kelli says. “I can tell by the way your cheeks are turning pink.”
“Shut up.” I catch my lower lip with my teeth, wondering what I should say. Telling myself I shouldn’t be happy that he’s texting me. It’s no big deal. He does this with lots of girls.
He so does not.
Not asleep. Roommate woke me up. Wanted to hear all the dirty details about tonight.
Did you tell her?
There’s nothing to tell.
“Now he’s texting you in the middle of the night. Booty call? Thanking you for an epic blow job? I think you’re holding out on me, J,” Kelli accuses.
“Nothing happened, swear to God,” I stress, anxiously awaiting Shep’s reply. I can see he’s typing. The little bubble is there on the screen, indicating he’s responding. What does he want? Thank God I wasn’t asleep or I might’ve missed this.
You could tell her that you jumped me.
I press my lips together, wanting to laugh or die of shame, I’m not sure which. Yes, I jumped him. And then he did absolutely nothing about it.
What happened next is too humiliating to admit.
No response. Glancing up from my phone, I see Kelli watching me.
“If he’s texting you in the middle of the night, it means he wants something to happen with you,” she states, like she knows all. But she so doesn’t. I’m probably not sophisticated enough for him. I don’t know any sexual tricks. I’m pretty basic. The missionary position is my standard sexual operating procedure and I’ve been on top not even a handful of times. One experience is especially vivid with Joel—the single time we tried it with me on top, his dick kept slipping out. Blow jobs…ugh. I don’t really want a dick in my mouth. And there’s that pesky orgasm issue I have.
God. Why would the campus sex god be interested in me?
“I think one night with me turned him off completely. He’s just being polite,” I say, sending a quick glance to my phone’s screen. No reply still.
“Whatever.” Kelli rises from the edge of my mattress. “I’m going to bed.”
She moves about the room, changing out of her clothes and I roll back over on my side, my back to her, facing the wall, my phone still clutched in my hand like a stupid, ridiculous girl waiting for her dream man to text her back. My head is still fuzzy from alcohol and I really wish I had a bottle of water on my bedside table but I don’t.
I need to just go to sleep. Forget this night ever happened. Forget that moment with Shep when our faces were so close and he muttered fucking hell under his breath, like I was torturing him or something. I’m sure that was the farthest thing from the truth. I’m sure he was irritated he had to deal with such an inept little girl who threw herself at him and he wasn’t about to get involved in that sort of mess.