Chapter 5 Zeke
five
Zeke
All I’m saying, man, is that I feel like I haven’t seen you all year,” I begin.
“I saw you at a party last weekend.” Marcus laughs. “You literally crashed at my place that night.”
Aside from the guys I live with and the girls I sleep with, Marcus is one of the only people I hang out with outside of parties. I met him during one of those stupid freshman orientations we had to do to help us meet people in our major.
As I tried to sneak out, which I wouldn’t have had to do if it wasn’t mandatory, I ran into Marcus. He was also trying to sneak out.
That day, we went to a bar, got some drinks with our fakes, and have been friends ever since. I’m not as close to him as with the guys, but it’s nice when we get together. Which isn’t often. Especially once hockey season starts, but when we are together, it’s great.
“What I mean is, I haven’t seen you outside of parties since classes started. It’s nice just drinking at your place, you know? It’s relaxing.”
“Is this where you tell me you have feelings for me?” Marcus pops a single eyebrow. “Because we’ve been over this, you’re not my type.”
“I’m everyone’s type.”
“You’re a little too… rugged for my liking. And you’re a hockey player; I always told you I’d never date a hockey player. Except Jeremy. If Jeremy ever decides to change lanes, please let me know.”
“You’ll be the first person I tell.” I shake my head, chugging the rest of my beer. “You want another one?”
“Sure, man, thanks.”
I head to the fridge, grab two more beers, and then plop back onto the couch.
“How are things going with that Bradley or Bronson or whatever his name was?”
“Braxton,” he replies.
“Oh, right! Because I kept calling him—”
“Braxton hicks… and you were right, he became a real pain. I ended things a couple weeks ago.”
“You guys were making out at that party last weekend.”
“And he wasn’t there when you woke up, right? Progress. We just make out from time to time.”
“That doesn’t sound healthy.”
“And sleeping with any girl who has a pulse, but only once to assure they don’t catch feelings, is healthy?”
“Touche.”
“Speaking of you sleeping around, when do you think you’ll find a girl you can actually settle down with?”
“I’m not looking to settle down.”
“Pretty sure it’d make your mom really happy if you told her you were seeing someone, and it was serious.”
“I could tell my mom I’m seeing someone, and it’s serious without actually having to see someone seriously.”
“You’re an idiot, dude; you know that right.”
I may be an idiot, but I see what it’s like for Brooks when he’s on the road.
Hell, I see what it’s like for Brooks when he’s here.
I don’t want someone to depend on me like Liv depends on Brooks.
Sure, Liv can take care of herself; she’s a grown woman, but if she knows he’ll handle it for her, she’ll push it onto him.
I’ve had to share a room with Brooks a handful of times for our away games, and if there’s one thing in the world that can make me soft, even if I was previously super horny, it’s hearing the two of them on the phone. It’s sickening.
“My mom’s fine with me not seeing anyone right now,” I reply. “Remember how I was telling you about Declan’s econ partner?”
“Yeah, the one who was busting his balls the first week of school.”
“Ember,” I continue. “And she’s actually really cool. Her brother’s Cam.”
“Oh, no shit.”
“Sure is, anyway, my mom’s invested in their story; she couldn’t care less about my love life.”
“Wait, Declan’s sleeping with Cam’s sister? That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“They aren’t sleeping together… yet. But something’s happening between them, and my mom can’t get enough of it.”
“It’s just the buildup.” Marcus takes a swig of his beer. “Once those two finally get together, all her attention will shift to your love life.”
“Trust me,” I argue. “The last thing my mom wants to think about is her son fucking around… literally.”
Afternoon sex is the best kind of sex.
Mainly because I don’t have to worry about the guys coming home and interrupting us. If we were in my room, I wouldn’t have to worry about it anyway, but we barely made it through the front door before clothes were thrown across the floor.
The same floor we’re currently lying on. We’re both in only our underwear and a blanket from the couch, our only form of cushion.
“I’m on the pill,” she says as my lips leave hers and travel down her chest. “So, you don’t have to worry about grabbing a condom.”
I almost laugh. I’d be an idiot to not use a condom for several reasons. I know birth control isn’t 100% effective; hell, I know condoms aren’t 100% effective. So, I’d rather cover as many baby preventive measures as possible.
I know my mom wants to be a grandma, but I don’t think me accidentally knocking up a one-night stand is what she had in mind.
And safe sex isn’t just about preventing a baby.
“I already have one,” I respond, reaching for my jeans. I always carry one with me for emergencies.
“Oh,” she mumbles. “You always have one on you?”
“Never know when you’re going to need it.”
I can’t tell if she’s disappointed about the fact that I have a condom on me and I don’t have to go grab one from the bathroom or if she’s upset that I’m using a condom in the first place.
Then she shrugs, pulling me back down on top of her, her hands reaching for my waistband—
And then my phone rings. I freeze.
Because it’s not just any ring.
I grab my jeans again, searching for my phone, but it’s not there. I climb off her, lying on the floor, searching under the couch for my phone.
“What are you doing?” I can feel her eyes on me as I search.
If my screen wasn’t lit up, I don’t know if I would’ve seen it near the back leg, but as I reach for it, the ringing ends.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I redial the number.
I hold my phone between my shoulder and ear, grabbing my jeans from the floor and pulling them on.
“What are you doing?” she repeats, but this time she sounds angry.
“I have to go.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She sits up. “We’re in the middle of something. You’re literally still hard, and you’re gonna leave?”
“I have to go.”
“Unbelievable.”
I get no answer. I redial again.
I slip on my shoes, grab my shirt off the floor, and take my keys off the hook.
“You can let yourself out.”