Chapter 3
Colt
Stella’s words shouldn’t bother me as much as they do. I don’t know this chick, but for some reason, I care about her opinion of me.
I was going to ask her for Summer’s phone number, to figure everything out, before she insulted me.
I don’t hear a word the professor says as class drones on. When she dismisses us, I catch up to Stella in the hallway. This conversation is a Band-Aid I just have to rip off.
“Stella, wait up,” I call as I jog up behind her.
“Don’t you know how to take a hint?” she asks, spinning to face me.
“I just need you to give me Summer’s number,” I respond, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans.
“Oh, hell no. I’m not subjecting myself to listening to that again.” She turns to walk away, but I reach out and grab her wrist. I can’t help but notice how soft her skin is under my fingers. At my touch, she flinches, and I let go immediately, rushing to explain.
“It’s not what you think. I don’t want to sleep with her again. I just need to…talk to her. I need to ask her what happened… if…” my voice trails off, knowing I’m getting into vulnerable territory with a girl who seems to blatantly hate my guts.
She pauses for a beat as she processes my words. “You don’t remember having sex with her?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead, I just shake my head in confirmation.
A long moment of silence stretches before she finally speaks. “She had sex with you while you were blacked out? Are you serious?” The rage that fills her voice is sudden and sharp, boiling. I realize she’s pissed on my behalf now.
“I remember leaving the bar with her. And I remember bits and pieces. I know at some point I told her I was done, but I’m not sure she listened.
I—I don’t remember if we used protection, okay?
I just need to clear the air with her.” I duck my head in shame as I’m forced to speak the truth out loud.
She’s definitely not going to change her opinion of me now.
“Colton… I—are you going to report her?” She looks at me with pity that I wasn’t expecting.
I huff out a humorless laugh. “No. That wouldn’t achieve anything except making things messy. No one is going to believe that I made out with her in front of the entire bar, left with her, and then didn’t want to have sex. Besides, I did want to, I just didn’t realize how drunk I was.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, you did use a condom.” Her words shock me into making eye contact with her again.
“How—how do you know?” I ask, guilt twisting my stomach. God, what if Summer and I were doing it in the living room and Stella walked in and saw us? No wonder she hates me.
“It was, um, lying on the floor of the bathroom. I don’t know how it got there, but it was…used. So, don’t worry, you were safe.”
Relief washed over me in a wave. However, it’s quickly followed by more guilt. On the floor? That’s disgusting. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could just go back and erase everything that happened. It was definitely not worth all this trouble.” I run both hands through my hair, not sure what to do with all this pent-up anxiety.
“Hey, don’t worry. I’m sorry I was such a bitch.” It’s her turn to look guilty now.
Her words pull a small chuckle from my chest. “I promise, despite my reputation, I really am not that kind of guy. Sure, I like to have fun. I was celebrating our win at the bar. But I let it get too far.”
She nods in acknowledgment. “Do you still want her number? To make sure everything’s okay?”
“Yeah, I guess I should. To be safe. I have an appointment to go get tested, too.” I don’t know why I felt the need to tell her that last part. I guess I want her to know I am a responsible adult, although recent events may suggest otherwise.
After she gives me her roommate’s phone number, she tells me she has to get to her next class and walks away.
Four days later, on Friday night, the team and I are back at Ale Mary’s celebrating another win. This time, however, I’m sitting at a high-top table and sipping on my first—and only—beer. Booker and I are chatting about the game and watching Beau make out with some puck bunny on the dance floor.
Drew has been on my ass about my hookup with Summer. I tell him that it’s not worth it, but he’s not getting the hint. I don’t make a habit of talking about women, especially the ones I’ve slept with, but he refuses to drop the subject.
I texted her and asked if we could talk, but she never responded. I tested negative for any STDs, so I guess I should forget about it as well.
Motion at the door catches my attention. A group of girls walks in wearing heels and little dresses. One of them is wearing a hot pink Birthday Girl sash.
My gaze catches on a tall brunette in a royal blue sequin dress. It hugs her curves in all the right places. She turns as I take a sip, and I choke when I realize that it’s Stella.
Her long hair hangs loose down her back. Her tight dress has a small plunge in the neckline, showing off just enough of her breasts to be a tasteful tease. Looking at her has me readjusting myself under the table.
I didn’t have any more run-ins with her over the week; Lit on Mondays being the only class we share.
But that didn’t stop me from thinking about her every now and then.
I wanted to talk to her again, to try and change the first impression she has of me into something better.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I decide to approach her.
“You come here often?” I joke, leaning down toward her ear as I put my hand gently on her back.
She must’ve not seen me walk over, because she nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of my voice.
“Jesus, Colton, you scared me!”
I chuckle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. My friends call me Colt, by the way. Only teachers and the media call me Colton.”
“Are we friends now?” She asks, a teasing lilt in her voice as she smirks at me, regaining her composure.
“I sure as hell hope so,” I reply. I can’t keep my eyes from locking onto her lips. They’re glossy but not overly pigmented with lipstick. Her makeup is light and natural, augmenting her already beautiful features. The makeup around her green eyes makes them look even more stunning.
“Well, I guess a friend would congratulate you on your win tonight,” she says, casually putting her hands on her hips.
“Thank you. Did you watch the game?” I ask. The thought of her watching me play, cheering for me, makes my heart stutter.
“No. We were at dinner for my teammate’s birthday, and someone mentioned it. I think they were live-streaming the game on Instagram.”
“I guess I should stop hogging all your attention and let you get back to your friends. Can I at least buy you a drink?”
“Oh, no thanks. I’m DD tonight,” she says, glancing over to where her friends are congregated around the bar. The group keeps getting approached by different guys offering drinks and asking for dances. Stella’s shoulders stiffen slightly as she inspects the crowd. “I’ll talk to you later, Colt.”
I make my way back to my friends as well, watching her ass as she walks away. Sue me, but it’s a fantastic ass.
“Dude, who was that?” Beau asks, having apparently gotten bored with his earlier escapade.
Beau and I have been best friends since we played on the same league team in elementary school. We didn’t go to the same schools because he went to a private school growing up, and I didn’t, but we talked about going to the same college to play hockey together and eventually going to the NHL.
Where I grew up as the average boy next door, Beau grew up as the firstborn son and grandson of an insanely rich real estate family or something. I don’t know the details of his family’s money situation, but I know that, since his sister is gone, he’s the sole inheritor to billions of dollars.
“Stella,” I reply to his question, picking up my now-warm forgotten beer.
“Stella who? And how have I never seen her before? I mean, damn, look at those legs.” He’s basically eye fucking her from across the bar, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of irritation when I shouldn’t. He’s doing the same thing I did when she walked in, and it’s not as if she’s anything to me.
“Stella…you know, I don’t know her last name,” I say, frowning. How could I not know her last name? The answer is obvious: I don’t really know her. However, I feel like I’ve known her forever, even though we’ve only had—what?—three or four conversations.
“So, you’re not sleeping with her?” Booker asks, joining the conversation.
“No, I met her last weekend. She’s Summer’s roommate, and we have English together.” She must feel our eyes on her, because she looks over her shoulder, catches the three of us checking her out red-handed, and tosses a flirty little finger wave in our direction.
She’s talking to a short blonde and a girl with auburn hair, I’m assuming they’re a couple of her teammates. I realize I don’t even know what sport she plays. Every bone in my body wants to go over there, talk to her more, and get to know her better.
Well, every bone except one, which wants to grab her by that round ass and fuck her senseless.
I mentioned before that I don’t hook up a whole lot compared to other guys on my team. Sometimes, Beau will have three different girls a week at the apartment. But I’m no saint, either. Playing hockey essentially means there’s an endless stream of girls constantly vying for our attention.
I won’t say I’m against girlfriends like Booker or Drew claim to be.
And I’m not afraid of commitment like Beau.
I’ve just been having fun and focusing on other things.
Plus, I haven’t met a girl I could see myself getting serious with.
Most of the girls I sleep with are looking for a good time, only.
I don’t know what it is about this girl, though, that has captured my full attention since the moment we met.