Stars (Penmore #1) Page 11

  Millie is a tad irate that she just flew hundreds of miles to see me and I’m telling her I’ll have to sneakily visit her tomorrow.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, but tomorrow you’re going to have some explaining to do,” she tells me, turning her attention to Nate. “I don’t suppose you can take me to another Halloween party?”

  “Some of the football boys talked about an after-party at Leyton’s house,” he replies, flashing her a smile that immediately has me rethinking my plan.

  “No,” I tell them as I take in the heated looks they’re throwing at each other. Now on top of my paranoia about Gray finding out that I’m a liar, it’s clear I have to worry that I just made sure two of the biggest players I have ever met will be spending the evening under one roof. “I think alcohol is a bad idea. No parties, which means no drinking. And I love you both, but I think you drinking together might lead to trouble.”

  “Honey, I did not just fly out here to hide like a criminal. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I won’t even tell anyone I’m from Gray’s hometown, and I’ll go so far as to tell everyone my name is Pamela tonight if it helps,” Millie begs, causing me to lose my concern and go back to feeling guilty.

  I can’t help but turn to Nate and put my trust in him. “You’ll make sure she’s okay?”

  “You don’t need to worry about anything, future little sister. Except maybe coming clean to the guy outside.”

  “I’m not ready yet,” I tell them both before I wave and head outside.

  GRAYSON

  “So, you and the mouse, huh?”

  “Looks that way,” I reply, bracing myself for the hour-long ‘let’s talk about our feelings’ conversation I knew Marissa was about to inflict upon me. When she told me she was going to swing by my place before she went to class today, I knew there was no escaping her need to tell me what she thinks and how she feels about my new girlfriend.

  I had been anticipating the conversation as soon as she saw Parker and me together for the first time.

  I noticed her fretful gaze land on me throughout the night as I hung with the football team in Lucky’s, waiting for Parker’s shift to end. She briefly spoke to me about the freshman incident and made sure I cleaned up the storeroom, but didn’t say anything else.

  I knew it was only a matter of time.

  After Marissa’s third anxious expression, it dawned on me that we had talked about the girl I was chasing at school and how I finally managed to go on a date with her last weekend and she had been excited for me. I had, however, forgotten to update Maris on Parker’s employment revelation.

  And I knew Maris was too bloody opinionated to not say anything about me, the playboy college football star, dating her timid mouse.

  Usually, her opinions were pretty hilarious and she nearly always made me laugh, but I had a feeling from her somber posture that she wasn’t about to make jokes concerning the snake eating the mouse.

  She took a seat at the small table Andy and I had set up near the kitchenette and I started to make us coffee. As soon as I turned my back, I heard her say, “Looks serious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so attentive with someone before. And you sure as hell never cared enough about one of the girls you were sleeping with to defend her honor.”

  “Yeah, it’s serious. I’ve never felt this way about another girl before. I think she is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, and yeah, that means I’ll do everything I can to protect her honor. Granted, Maris, I haven’t had this conversation with Stars yet, so I probably shouldn’t have it with you,” I state, pouring her coffee and handing it to her black without sugar.

  “Okay, so I don’t want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong—” she begins tentatively.

  I can’t help but burst into laughter. Maris and I were once lining up at Starbucks and she noticed that some cute girl at the front of the line was paying for a guy’s coffee, on what was clearly their first date. She walked straight up to them, laid five dollars on the counter and told the girl she would pay for her coffee because it was clear her date was not only butt-ugly but a cheap-ass, who was going to bore her to tears. She then clarified that she believed that no girl should have to deal with that without a free drink, before returning to our spot in line. Maris didn’t understand the word ‘boundaries,’ and her pretending she did was fucking hysterical.

  She starts to give me a ‘shut the fuck up’ look and continues with, “As I was saying, I don’t want to upset you, but I’m just worried about you guys together. I have a feeling that she’s going to hurt you.”

  “Parker? Hurt me? Have you seen her? She’s barely 5’5 and 125 pounds. She’s more likely to hurt herself than me. You should see when she gets nervous what a big klutz she turns into, it’s adorable. I swear I’ve watched her accidently trip over her own feet and walk into two poles while we’ve been having coffee on Fridays.”

  “I’m not talking physically, you dumbass. I’m worried she’s going to break your heart,” she tells me as she puts down her coffee.

  “Maris, honestly, I appreciate that you care, but I’m sure I have nothing to worry about. There is a reason I’ve waited to date a girl like Parker. I’m not blind or stupid. I know when the girls are seeing me and when they’re seeing dollar signs. As lame as it sounds, Parker likes me for me.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right, but a girl that quiet? I’m just worried she has secre—” Before Maris can continue to tell me all about her suspicions, we both hear the door swing open.

  “Honey, I’m home!” yells D as he drops his gym bag by the door. Marissa and I both roll our eyes as he ignores us, heading straight to the fridge in only his running shorts to begin pilfering through our meager groceries. “Shit, I’m starved. Coach has me doing additional weight training and conditioning. How come we don’t have any bacon?”

  “Because you didn’t buy any bacon,” I tell him, chuckling at the facial expression he has when he pulls out a non-fat strawberry yogurt. “You keep buying healthy shit and then complain after every training session. Just buy the crap you want and, while you’re at it, get a T-shirt. I’m sick of seeing your sweaty chest every afternoon.”

  “Dude, you make our friendship super awkward when you check me out, ” Andy replies. “Although, who can blame you? I get it. I make even the straightest guy on campus contemplate switching teams. Being this beautiful is a hard burden to bear. Get it? Hard to bear.” He continues wiggling his eyebrows at me, while posing as if competing in a muscle-man competition.

  I’m about to rip my shirt off and show D what a real man looks like when I notice the grimace that seems to be stuck on Marissa’s face. I can already see that she’s trying to formulate an escape route before D notices she’s in the same room. Unfortunately, she doesn’t move fast enough.

  “Ah, fuck,” D groans as he looks up from his yogurt and spots Marissa glaring at him from the table. “I mean, oh, yay, we have guests.”

  “Seeing as there’s just one of me, it’s ‘guest,’” Marissa says as she rolls her eyes at D and begins collecting her handbag to leave. “And don’t worry about being hospitable, I think I’ll be leaving now that the room smells like a horse paddock.”

  “Babe, when the person visiting looks like they need two chairs at the kitchen table for their ass, it is ‘guests.’”

  “All that comment shows me is you spend way too long staring at my ass, Andrew. Stop admiring goods that you won’t ever get to experience.”

  “Rissie, when did Getting Lucky start producing the goods? Damn, maybe I should have risked the diseases when she offered that freebie last time the team went to celebrate at Poison.”

  “Dude, not cool,” I warn him tersely. Getting Lucky used to be the name of Lucky’s before Maris took it over. Unfortunately, it was also the town’s nickname for Marissa’s mother Lucille.

  “It’s all good, Gray. He’s right, my mom probably did offer him a freebie at her strip club. She’s always had a thing for
muscle-ridden dickheads with more cash than brains. Trash is always attracted to trash, trust fund or no trust fund.” As soon as she’s finished talking, Marissa is out of the house before D can reply. I wish it was because she just likes the last word, but I’m afraid D’s words actually hurt her; she left with tears glistening in her eyes.

  “Shit, man, why do you guys have to go at each other every time you’re in the same room?” I demand when I turn back to find D quietly eating his yogurt, as if it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room. “Why the fuck can’t you just be your regular asshat self and wink at her like every other girl on campus?”

  “I can’t help it if she always acts like an uptight bitch and that brings out the worst in me,” he says, throwing his yogurt in the trash and turning to give me a hard glare. “And why the hell is she at our place, anyway? I thought you finally got the nervous girl to date you? You sleeping with them both?”

  His last question seems laced with uncontrolled anger, and if I didn’t know any better I would swear he wanted to take a swing at me.

  “Dude, for the hundredth time, I’m not sleeping with Marissa. And I’m pissed that you even think I would play two girls at once. You know I’m not my fucking father. I’m seeing Parker and only Parker. Maris just came over because she wanted to tell me her thoughts on my new relationship. She can’t help but share her opinion. If you didn’t always hide when she came over or fight with her, you would know this.”

  “Whateva, I’m going to hit the shower,” D replies. “Let me know if you plan on inviting the girlfriend round. It’d be nice to not dislike the hot chicks you insist on bringing to the house.”

  “See, you admit that Maris is hot. Now, why the fuck must you insist on saying she’s fat to her face and calling her Rissie when you know she hates it?” I call out to him as he walks to the shower.

  He never answers, even though I know he heard me.

  PARKER

  “You look like shit,” I inform Millie, as I take in what appears like yesterday’s crumpled clothes and the dark circles that linger closely beneath her blue eyes.

  “Well, I don’t go to bed early as if I’m eighty like you, so you organizing our secret rendezvous at the butt crack of dawn is a little painful,” she tells me, wincing as she brings her coffee to her lips.

  “Eight a.m. isn’t usually referred to as dawn. And can I ask why you’re drinking from a to-go cup?”

  We were sitting in this cute little café on the outskirts of town. If the place wasn’t so adorable with their oversize mugs and colorful lounges, I would probably feel guilty for not taking Millie somewhere closer to the college.

  I just didn’t want to risk running into Gray or any of his friends. Of course, Millie isn’t getting the experience of the cute large mugs with flowers decorating the inside because she ordered her flat white coffee in a to-go cup.

  Completely ruining the experience.

  “It’s early. I need a sippy cup when I’m tired,” she tells me, taking another sip.

  “You’re eighteen, and you need a sippy cup?”

  “We’re best friends. Best friends aren’t allowed to judge each other. They are only allowed to steal clothes, call ex-boyfriends assholes and force each other to share embarrassingly intimate details about their sex lives. So deal with the sippy cup. Now, tell me about your fabulous sex stories with Grayson-superstar-Waters. ”

  “Umm, well, you know how I overheard Amber Reece telling the cheerleaders in the change room that she taught Grayson how to use his tongue in sophomore year?” I ask, taking a sip of my caramel latte. I guess not so surprisingly, it was my new favorite drink.

  “Oh, was she the sophomore with the pixie haircut when we were freshman?”

  “Yep, that was her. Anyway, she went on about how with a few instructions and a little guidance, she had ensured that he was an oral sex god and everyone could thank her later.”

  “I thought she was a lesbian?”

  “Yeah, I think she came out the following year and started dating Anthea, the girl in charge of the school yearbook. But the year before, she was one of Grayson’s many and decided to offer some pointers.”

  “Makes total sense then that she could teach Grayson what to do,” replies Millie while she starts to spread cream cheese on the bagel a waitress placed in front of her.

  “Yes, I agree. But back to my point.”

  “Which was…”

  “I feel like I need to find her address and send her flowers.”

  Millie bursts out laughing. “That good, huh?”

  “Phenomenal. I didn’t even know my toes could curl like that, and I swear my calves are still aching,” I say, taking a moment to lightly rub the areas of my body that seem like they have yet to stop throbbing.

  “Well, you definitely deserve that after Temporary Troy. Although, you know I wouldn’t rush your flower order to Amber Reece, because after last night I think it’s probably a hereditary skill set,” she says, grinning at me.

  “I do not want to know how you know that.” Who am I kidding; I need to know. “Please, tell me you did not sleep with Nate last night.”

  “Hate to be cliché in saying this, but there was definitely no sleeping last night. Hence why I look like shit. Body feels awesome, but no beauty sleep definitely does not equal a pretty coffee date,” she tells me, taking a bite of her bagel.

  “I am definitely going to yell at him tomorrow. He promised he’d take care of you and make sure you were okay.”

  “Oh, he took care of me all right. Four times. I didn’t even know guys could go four rounds. Seriously, I’m calling him marathon man. Or do I call him triathlon man? Because we started with me getting really wet and then I rode him like a bike.”

  “You did not just tell me all of that!” I whisper-shout at her, my imagination filling with images of triathlon sex becoming the next sporting craze. Each country’s participants would have special latex uniforms that allowed them to compete in each sexual adversity. Oh, God, what if everyone still needed to wear helmets?

  Millie interrupts my rampant imagination and subsequent giggling by saying, “Hey, I totally want all the details about Grayson! How deep did his love go? Did it reach your ocean? Did he push you too hard?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “Are you misquoting Calvin Harris lyrics at me?”

  “Sorry, it was our sex soundtrack last night. Trust me, after four rounds with one song on repeat, everything you say before you finish your coffee would be inspired by that song.”

  “La la la. I do not want to know this. ‘How deep is your love’ plays nearly every night at the club. How am I possibly going to give him my drink tray if that is playing in the background?”

  “Beats me, but I think it’s now my favorite song of all time.”

  “What are you doing?” I question when Millie reaches into her handbag and grabs her cell phone.

  “Making it your personalized ringtone. You are my favorite person and it’s my new favorite song, so it makes perfect sense that I hear it every time you call me.”

  I watch with a mixture of shock, horror and amusement as she scrolls through ringtones with a smile on her face. “Why can’t it be Nate’s ringtone?” I ask her, sulking a little over my coffee. “I don’t want to be your sex song ring-tone.”

  “Oh, Nate already selected his,” she informs me as she taps on her screen then throws the phone back into her handbag.

  “Let me guess, ‘I’m bringing sexy back’?” I query, trying to imagine the silliest song that Nate would believe represented himself.

  “Nope. Anaconda,” Millie replies as she sips from her coffee cup.

  “La la la,” I reply loudly, desperately attempting to block out information that I’m sure will cause my work relationship with Nate to be forever changed.

  “Keep pretending like you aren’t a little bit curious. The fact that Nate is packing a lot of heat can only mean good things for your future,” she tells me, giggling at the
red that creeps up my neck and across my face. I don’t tell her that I am well aware of Grayson’s anaconda and that I was more than a little curious. Last night has only intensified my desire to be with him in every way possible. After Millie leaves tomorrow, I plan to dedicate some serious time into finally having some hands-on experience.

  “So, are you going to tell me why you haven’t told Gray who you are yet?” she finally asks while the waitress takes away our empty plates.

  “Mill, if I tell Gray that I grew up next door to him and never introduced myself after thirteen years, he would think I was crazy.” I sigh, feeling hopeless in this situation.

  “Sweetie, that is a little crazy, but it’s also understandable. You were shy, and our town worshiped Gray like he was the frigging Sun god and they were all ancient Aztecs,” she says carefully.

  “Maybe if I just wait a little bit—” I start to say, even though I knew I was grasping at straws.

  “Love you, sweetie, and I hate to do the tough love best friend thing. It’s not nearly as fun as the sexy-talk. But he’s bound to see you’re a little loopy sooner or later. I’m also sure he’ll love that about you like I do,” she says before continuing softly, “if you’re honest sooner rather than later.”

  I hear what she’s saying; there’s even a part of me that knows she’s right.

  I was just scared, afraid of going back into the audience, back into the shadows, when I had just learned how warm stepping into the spotlight beside Grayson could be.

  PARKER

  “Did you hear that he spent the entire evening with one of the waitresses?”

  “I heard she was fat, but with big tits.”

  “Apparently, she’s in his sociology class, because she has like no social skills. She doesn’t even go to his games. People say they’ve seen her at like one.”

  “What sort of girlfriend doesn’t support her boyfriend’s future career?”