“On your fucking knees, asshole. You’re going to beg for my girl’s forgiveness. Actually, you’re going to grovel for the forgiveness of every girl in this school and anywhere else that you may have disrespected them.” Owen pushes down hard on Billy’s neck, causing him to drop to his knees in front of me. The entire cafeteria lets out a gasp but no one moves. Owen bends down, his face right in front of Billy’s. “I can’t fucking hear you.”
“I’m sorry.” I barely hear the words that Billy has whispered to the floor. Owen looks as though he’s getting more upset with every second that passes by.
“I said I can’t hear you. Speak the fuck up. Look at my girl when you’re apologizing.” Billy raises his head, his eyes meeting mine.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, this time loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear him.
“Do better than that.” Owen taps him upside his head. “That apology is not fucking good enough. Listen to the next words I’m going to say very carefully. I want you to look at my girl and say, ‘I’m sorry that I’m a fucking pig douchebag. One that doesn’t even deserve to look at you never mind say vile disgusting things in your presence. I’m a sleezy bastard that will never speak to you or any woman in that manner again’.” Owen stops talking and waits for Billy’s response.
Billy eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry.” I’m not sure if he means it or not. It doesn’t matter. It’s not the point. Owen lets go of Billy’s neck with a push, making him almost fall over. He reaches out, taking my hand. I lock my fingers with his. Still no one says a word. I’m pretty sure everyone is in shock as Owen leads me out of the cafeteria. I let him. I’d follow this man anywhere.
20
Owen
With the last game of the regular season in the books, we all decide to let off steam. Grant hosts a party at his house down by the lake. It’s massive, even bigger than Ace’s, with more garages than my house has bedrooms. The upstairs is off-limits he said, but we have free rein of the basement, which goes on forever. I swear I could sprint down the football field faster than I could cross from one end of his house to the other.
Most everyone’s outside, though. The weather is turning chilly so Grant lit a huge bonfire on the shore. About fifty of us are huddled around it. The rest are up in the house. Ace is huddled between my legs with my jacket wrapped around her. I’m hot from the fire, the win, and most of all, Ace.
“Things must be okay between you and Carter,” she says, looking across the fire at the dark figure sitting on one of the few chairs down here.
“He still throws me the ball,” I answer. There’s space around him that I hadn’t noticed before and I don’t know if that’s because he wants it or because everyone’s too afraid to get close to him. He can be a mean son of a bitch, but, I don’t know, in this moment he looks kinda lonely.
“Haven’t you talked about it?” Ace glances up at me in surprise.
“Why would we talk about it?” I did my thing. Carter accepted it and we’ve moved on. “There’s nothing to say.”
Ace shakes her head. “Guys,” is all she says.
I assume that’s an insult, but I don’t get worked up about it. Billy’s gone. JJ’s gone. We just finished the regular season undefeated. I’ve got scouts from several colleges sniffing at my jock strap and the best damn girl in the whole world snuggled up against my cock.
The world couldn’t be better. Well, it could. I could have my cock inside the best girl in the world. I take a swig of my beer and bury my face in Ace’s neck. She smells like smoke and sweetness. My shaft swells and Ace notices immediately. I guess it’s difficult to miss since she’s sitting on my lap. She swivels her hips in a slow, grinding motion. I bite her neck in retaliation. If only we had a blanket. Grant and his girl have one and I swear he’s fingering her underneath it. No judgment, though. I’d love to have my fingers buried inside Ace’s juicy cunt. My hand strays to her waistband. Ace freezes and then jumps to her feet.
“Oh, it’s late. My mom said I had to be home by eleven,” she declares. I quickly say our goodbyes and then hurry after her.
“When did she say that?” I ask, worried. I haven’t ever missed a curfew of Ace’s before.
“She didn’t,” Ace admits. “I just wanted to go home.” She slips her hand in mine. “I’m tired and cold.”
“Sure. No problem.”
Ace lives only a few minutes away from Grant’s so it doesn’t take us long to get to her house. I walk her to her door, wanting to make sure she doesn’t get in trouble for staying out too late, but when we get inside, the house is dead quiet.