17
Remi
Nine months earlier and full of regrets…
My nerves were all over the place. I had been sick the last few days from morning until afternoon, even missing one of my classes. I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone, even my boyfriend, but when Ryder asked me to meet him at his place, I felt compelled to go.
Usually we went to mine after a game since it was above the bar, where I worked, and convenient. My bosses, Andy and David, were like big brothers, and made it pretty clear with their dirty looks that they didn’t like him. They didn’t have a say what I did after hours from work. I didn’t need their approval; I could make my own decisions.
Somehow this felt different, and I pushed the feeling in my gut back down. I stopped once to sit on a bench and catch my breath, the nausea was horrendous and my throat seemed to both dry up from thirst and also feel repelled by the idea of anything touching my mouth. Tonight was going to be peachy.
I checked my minimal makeup in my purse mirror and walked the few blocks to his house off campus. The Kappa House was technically in a nicer section of private homes in town. I didn’t know how the fraternity managed to keep the house looking so nice with tons of guys living inside it, but the lawns were manicured and little flower boxes adorned the windows in the front. You might think flowers would emasculate such a property but if anything, it softened the exterior and made it blend in sufficiently.
Freddy Mac Carron, one of Ryder’s teammates who lived there, opened the door. “Girl in the house!” he yelled, closing the door behind me. Ryder came down the steps escorting a bubbly blonde I didn’t know. His hand on her back made the hair on my neck stand up suspiciously until he looked at me and smiled with eyes I felt were only for me.
“Red!” The blonde already forgotten brushed past me, and I bounded up the stairs to meet him halfway.
“Hey there,” I said leaning in expecting a kiss that didn’t happen.
Ryder grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs to his room, shutting the door and effectively the outside world from us.
“I missed you this week,” I murmured into his neck. His breath smelled like sour alcohol, and I pushed back on the wave of sickness.
“What’s wrong?” he queried more concerned than usual as he held me in his arms. He probably didn’t want to catch whatever I had because he didn’t want to miss practice, or get in trouble with his coaches.
“Nothing, I’m just getting over a stomach bug, I think.”
“Oh okay.” Ryder immediately went to the button on my jeans and undid them efficiently. He didn’t waste time removing my top and cupping my breasts in his large hands, squeezing hard.
“Oww, watch it.” Even my breasts hurt today and not because he was grabby as usual. I felt irritable and moody while he just got naked and pulled me over to lie on the bed. Sex was still fairly new and it hadn’t gotten fun. I started to wonder if it would ever get there.
“I got what you need, baby.” I seriously doubted Ryder had anything I needed right then, unless it was a stomach antacid. The bed dipped with his weight over mine. He felt too warm, too big, and my skin itched to be left alone. Sex had never been out of this world with Ryder, and he told me that being a virgin was a problem. He said I didn’t know enough to know what I liked and what was good because he would teach me. The whole ordeal made me feel inadequate, and that grated on my overly sensitive nerves.
“Ryder, no. I don’t think I can do this tonight.” I pushed him off me, and he backed away with hands up, warding me away.
“Hey, you said no,” he groused like my consent was an imposition to him.
I rolled my eyes. His status as a student athlete and his hopes of going pro kept him thinking about potential scandals every five minutes. He was paranoid about getting accused of something heinous, but he had no problem trying to sweet talk me if I was on the fence about it.
“You’re fine, Ryder, I’m just not feeling great today.” I rubbed my stomach, hoping it would settle down.
He sat up next to me, putting his pants back on. “Maybe you should head home then.”
Unbelievable, I had just gotten there because he asked me to come over and now he was telling me to leave. “Seriously? I can’t even stay? I’ve been here five minutes.”
He shrugged and pulled his T-shirt on, standing up. “I should study.” He made a move to shuffle books and papers on his desk but didn’t do anything more with them. I wondered if he even knew what was on his desk.
“Study?” The word felt dirty on my tongue like it was code for something else along the lines of get the girl out of here as soon as possible.
“I don’t see the point. It’s not like you sleep over here anyway.” He had a valid argument, I guessed. Any time we spent in bed was usually at my place and it felt like he never left. Here we usually had sex and then went out. I was in my own bed by the end of the night. Weirdly, I was beginning to question why that might be putting together sketchy details of the puzzle that was our relationship.
So I asked, “Why is that? How come I never stay over here, but you stay at my place?”
“Aw, don’t make it some crazy thing, Red. This is a frat house and you’ve got your own place. It’s kind of obvious.”
But I had a feeling I did know why and that was glaringly obvious. It wasn’t like he was jealous of other guys looking me over. My mind was doing mental gymnastics putting details into slots and rearranging facts until I asked the one thing I still hadn’t worked out yet.
“Who is the blonde?”