Page 12 of Rowdy Boy

“Bash… I hate to push it. But I gotta know.”

He huffs on the other side of the line before responding. “No one at your house saw us, I don’t think. You were lucid enough to explain we had to take the back stairs to your room. I didn’t know which room it was, but you kept telling me to find Jude and Jared, so once I saw the movie posters, I assumed I got it right.”

I laugh at my dumb drunk-ass self. Apparently not even total inebriation can tame my love for Jude Law and Jared Leto.

“Dude, have you seenRequiem for a DreamorThe Talented Mr. Ripley? Fucking masterpieces. Hey, my dad’s out of town most of the week. Maybe you can come over one night, and we could—”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he interjects before I can even get out the official invite.

Oh. Well, that sucks.

I know Bash is into me—I rememberthatpart of last night. To think that he wants or needs to keep his distance because of my shitty-ass choices…

“At least not this week, I mean.”

That almost makes it worse. I feel like a little kid in timeout. If he needs space, I’ll give him space. It’s not like we were anything other than friends with benefits, anyway.

“Yeah, all right. Thanks again for last night, man. I’m sure I’ll see you around…”

“Jake.”I suck in a breath at the sound of my own damn name. How does he make it sound so… pretty… when he says it?

“I’m not saying don’t ever hit me up. But for now, I just need a little space. Last night was scary. I need some time… I think you need some time…”

He trails off, and I don’t have anything else to add, so we say goodnight and hang up. I run my hand down my face and blow out a long breath, steeling myself for the text I should probably get out of the way.

The irony isn’t lost on me; I just ended a call I didn’t want to make to the person I actually wanted to talk to, and now I have to text the person I don’t really want to deal with.

Jake: Hey. Good luck with cheerleading 2/days this week. Maybe you can come over and show me your new routines soon?

She replies in less than a minute. At least I don’t have to drag this out.

Courtney: I’m free Thursday night.

That was easy.

I’m not really in the mood to see Courtney anytime soon, but Joe made it abundantly clear he expects to see her at the house this week. I can usually subvert his manipulations better than this, but this one doesn’t feel like it’s worth fighting after the battle that ensnared us this morning.

Jake: Perfect. We’ll watch a movie at mine, but I’m definitely not opposed to a fashion show if you want to model your new uniform. ;)

If I’m gonna have her over anyway, might as well make it worth my while.

Courtney: We’ll see.

Good enough. And more than enough for tonight. I let my phone flop down onto the bed beside me before I roll over and close my eyes, comforted knowing my dad’s gone for the next few days, and I can come and go as I please.

Chapter 6

“DidImentionhowmuch I love this uniform?” I slide my hands up the back of her thighs, stopping at the edge of the spandex hot pants she’s wearing underneath. I trace along the hem—that sweet little line where her soft skin meets the smooth fabric. She preens back, then rolls her hips forward, grinding down on my erection so good I groan. We still have all our clothes on, but her lower half is only covered in thin spandex, and I’m wearing lightweight athletic shorts. Her pleated skirt is fanned out over both our laps.

I usually hold back from going heavy on the dirty talk with her—but the way she’s grinding and teasing me tonight has me practically seeing stars. I’d been lukewarm on this movie night hangout all week. But when Courtney showed up with foot-long subs wearing her teeny-tiny uniform skirt, I started singing a very different tune.

“You might have mentioned it,” she whispers before taking my earlobe between her teeth.

Hell. Yes.

This is the girl I fell for a few years ago—a little sugar, a lot of spice. A smart mouth and a hot ass that doesn’t take my shit. It’s almost enough to make me forget about her ice queen act at the water park last weekend.

Gripping the back of her head, I gently turn her face so I can kiss up the column of her neck. “What do you want, Court?” I latch on to the skin below her ear, but I don’t suck too hard. I want to make her feel good, not mark her.