The Rulebreaker

“Fuck. Rocky.” He moans against me and breaks the kiss briefly, breathing heavily against me.

For a second, I think he may stop, but both hands grip my waist and he rocks against me, his mouth on the side of my neck, his tongue exploring. I grab a handful of his curls and continue moving against him as I lean forward and kiss his neck all the way up to the shell of his ear, licking it and tugging it into my mouth, eliciting another deep groan from him. He makes me feel wild and uninhibited, completely at odds with who I normally am, what I normally do. It’s terrifying and electric. Completely all-consuming.

“You need to stop, Rock. I can’t take it.” His voice is strained as he grips my hips so that I’m no longer grinding against his erection. We’re both panting now.

“But I don’t want to stop.”

“And I don’t want to fuck you in the back row of a movie theatre.”

“Why not?” I frown, pulling back slightly. “If I was Rebecca or Tina, Carissa, or Mauve you would.”

It’s embarrassing that I know the names of most of the women he’s fucked but it doesn’t matter right now because right now it feels like he’s turning me away after I was so ready to do more and . . . I shake my head, exhaling as I climb off his lap and go back to my seat.

“Rocky.”

“No. I don’t want to hear it. I’m going to finish watching the movie and go about my day and pretend that never happened.”

“Rocky.” He reaches for me.

“Stop.” I yank my hand and shoot him a glare. “Maybe you should learn to take a hint. I’m staying at Leyla’s for a reason. I come to the movies by myself for a reason.”

“Okay.” He pulls back, blinking slowly. After a moment, he grabs his popcorn and drink and stands up. “Enjoy your movie.”

I don’t watch him leave because my heart can’t handle more destruction right now, but once I’m sure he’s gone, I bury my face in my hands and start to cry.

“What’d you think?” Mom asks me when she calls me after the movie is over.

“It was whatever.”

“That’s what I said. Your father loved it, as expected.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I loved it, I said it was good,” Dad says. “Hi, Rocky.”

“Hey, Dad.”

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing,” I say, even though I know I definitely sound like I’m pouting.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing. Is it soccer?” Dad asks. “Is it your teammates?”

“What? No.” I scoff. “My teammates are awesome.”

“Is it a boy?” Mom asks, a knowing tone in her voice.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What boy?” Dad asks loudly, his Jamaican accent suddenly clear and pronounced.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.”

“Well, you better start telling me his name so I know whose ass I need to knock.”

“Dad.”

“Mike. Stop.” That’s Mom. “Sweetheart, you do you. If you wanna talk about this, call me later.”

“Sure.” I sigh. I’ve been parked outside of the theatre for twenty minutes and I don’t know what to do next. I can’t go home and I don’t want to keep hiding out at Leyla’s, but I just might have to.

“Talk later then. If he hurts you, he’s dead,” Dad adds.

“Okay, Dad.” I laugh. “I love you guys. Bye.”

They say their goodbyes and I hang up the phone and head back to Leyla’s.

Chapter Seventeen

“There’s a party tonight and before you say no and tell me we already went to one last night, this is a mixer of sorts and Coach wants us to go.”

“Coach? When did she say this?”

“She emailed a little while ago.”

I look at Leyla. “Where is it and why? I feel like we’ve been to three of these mixers already.”

“I have no idea what to wear to this mixer,” Ashley says when she walks out of the room. “Do you know what we’re supposed to wear?”

“Little black dresses?” Leyla asks. “That’s what we wore last time.”

“You wore a black suit and converse,” I remind her.

“Right, because that’s my version of a little black dress.”

“Do you have to go home to get yours?” Ash asks. “We can do our makeup at your place on our way there.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea.”

When we step into the house, the new J Cole album is on at full-blast and Colson is walking around in nothing but his underwear, which, with the huge bulge, leaves very little to the imagination.

“Colson, what the hell? We have rules about this!” I shout.

“Yeah, Colson, what the hell?” Ashley raises an appreciative eyebrow and zones in on his dick.

“Ashley.” I nudge her.

“What?” She laughs.

“Sorry, you’re not my type, Ash.” Colson chuckles.

“I’m not your type? Everyone is your type.”

“None of Rocky’s friends are my type. I like to fuck and leave and that’s kind of impossible if you’re always hanging around my roommate.”