Jock Blocked

“Hey,” I said and stopped when I was a few feet from where she stood.

“Hi.” She reached down and grabbed a bottle of water from her bag, handing it to me.

“Thanks.” I took the bottle, our fingers brushing, my heart racing from that small touch. But I was good at keeping my shit together. At least I thought I was. Things were getting all turned around now.

I downed the bottle as I watched her. She stared at the field where the guys were still standing, some of them heading to the shower, others bullshitting.

She had her long blond hair in a ponytail, the ends a little bit curly, the wind blowing and moving the strands along the side of her neck. I kept drinking that bottle of water, the action giving me something to do as I stared at her.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her for the life of me.

She started talking about Rachel, how it was clear she was pissy about me cutting ties with her. But then everything else faded away as I grew mesmerized by her, watching as her mouth moved, her lips full and pink.

Her profile was perfect, delicate and feminine. Little wisps of hair moved along her temples and forehead, her hair so light blond it reminded me of spun gold.

Damn, look at me getting all cheesy and shit with how I thought about Stella.

I finished off the bottle and pulled it away from my mouth, continuing to watch her. She looked over at me, still speaking, but her words falling on deaf ears. All I could hear was this buzzing in my head and the sound of my heart racing in my ears.

Her eyes were so blue they actually had me reaching out and grabbing one of the benches to steady myself. How could I have never noticed how beautiful she was? How had I never noticed how bright her eyes were?

I watched the way her eyebrows dipped in confusion, and it was only then that the noise came rushing back to me. I could hear the guys shouting in the distance, heard Coach’s booming voice. I heard the wind blowing around us.

“Cannon? Did you hear anything I said?”

I could hear crunching, realized it was me as I held the bottle and squeezed it in my hand.

“Yeah, I heard you.”

She lifted an eyebrow and I could tell she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t press it.

“Okay, well are you good then?”

I cleared my throat and tossed the now crumpled water bottle into the trashcan beside her. “Oh yeah, I’m good. You’re good?” My voice sounded thick.

She snorted and shook her head. “You didn’t hear one word I said, did you?”

I gave her a smirk and lifted one shoulder. “I didn’t, I’m sorry. What’s up? You have my full attention.”

She smiled and shook her head and I refrained from lifting my hand and placing it over my heart, that organ hurting instantly.

“Are you good with social studies?”

I nodded. “I think I’m pretty good with it.”

“Because if you’re not, I can always come by after work. I’m at the body shop the next few days, but I can swing by afterward, or we can study during our free hour in the library.” She reached out and grabbed her backpack off the ground, slipping the straps through her arms.

I stared at her hands as they wrapped around the nylon, her nails peeking out, pink paint adorning them and nearly having my cock standing at attention.

She was so vulnerable and innocent, so much more than myself. I’d experienced a lot in my short eighteen years, whereas Stella, not even eighteen yet, probably hadn’t even kissed a boy. Or if she had, she had never told me about it.

The very thought of her lips pressed against someone else’s had my blood racing, this rage filling me. I didn’t want her kissing anyone, didn’t want any other guy fucking touching her. That feeling, that anger and possessiveness was so powerful, I actually took a step back. What I felt was misplaced. I had no claim over her, no right to her. She was my best friend, that’s all she could be.

“I mean, I won’t say no if you wanna come over and hang out.” I ran my hands over my thighs. God, I probably looked like a nervous fucking asshole right now. But she seemed oblivious to it, which was a blessing, I suppose.

“Study at your place again?”

“Or we can go to your house. Hell, we can go to Charlie’s Chocolate Shop if you want.” She looked at me like I’d grown two heads, and at the moment I felt like I had.

“Wait, you actually want to go to Charlie’s?”

Truth was I hated fucking Charlie’s, a little rundown diner with shitty cheeseburgers and watered-down milkshakes located right outside of town. It was where a lot of kids from school went, mainly because the owner, Charlie from Russia, was seedy as fuck and looked the other way where underage drinking and smoking pot behind the building was concerned.