Page 14 of The Frathole

Fortunately, I notice Payton heading down the stairs, so I’m hoping that’ll put an end to the gun show. But it still takes too long for Ryan to put his goddamn shirt back on, with Angie basically ogling him the whole time. That only makes me hate Ryan even more, which I didn’t think was possible.

We greet Payton and head out to Junkie’s.

I try to work it out so I can sit next to Angie, but Lance winds up on one side of her, and Ryan—who’s operating so smoothly,it’d be weird as hell for me to make a big deal about it in front of the group—sits on her other side. Now he’s totally ignoring me, dedicating all his attention to Angie.

I’m starting to adjust to the heat searing my chest. I can hate on him all I want, but the guy has a way of making even what he’s gonna order sound sexy as he jokes his way through the menu with her. Once he’s really got her laughing, he turns to me, as though he wants to rub his victory in my face. “Did you need anything, Mart? Maybe a kids’ menu or a high chair?”

“Ooh, what has crawled up your ass today?” Ty asks, overhearing the comment.

“Ah, I’m just teasing my roomie.” Ryan drapes his arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer.

“Hands off.”

Despite how much he’s enjoying this, he must hear the rage in my tone because he releases me and turns his attention back to Angie.

This has to be the worst dinner of my entire college career, and it only gets worse as Ryan continues doting and complimenting, making Angie laugh her ass off in that way that normally has me enchanted but now I’m seething.

When we finish, we return to the house, and I head up to my room to get away from him for a minute. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take him long to join me.

“You never mentioned how tango went,” he says, stripping off his shirt, then dropping his pants and underwear and just leaving them beside his air mattress as he plops down on it, that fucking dick of his dropping to one side. Given his weight, I’m surprised the mattress hasn’t popped.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Getting comfortable.”

“That’s not what I was talking about, and you know it.”

“What were you talking about, then?” He actually sounds oblivious.

“Angie.” I can’t even say her name now without my face catching fire. “She’s a nice girl, lovely, even. Don’t put her in the middle of this thing between us.”

“Relax. We were just talking.”

Like I believe that. “As much of an asshole as you are, it’d be even more of an asshole move to mess around with her to get back at me.”

His jaw tenses, and he pushes to his feet. That fat thing between his legs sways as he approaches me.

“First off,” he says, “it’s not a crime to make friends with a girl who hangs around the house, and who, as far as I can tell, has zero—and I do mean zero—interest in you.”

He gets right up in my face, and I can feel his hot breath pricking my lips, the scent of the mint he grabbed from Junkie’s filling my nostrils.

He sizes me up. “And second, you’re real cute when you’re all worked up like this.”

I ball my fists as my rage surges through me.

“We can still kiss and make up.” He puckers his lips and moves like he’s about to take a kiss, so I lean back, and he laughs. “Relax, man. I wasn’t actually gonna kiss you. Although, all this tension’s really getting me worked up.”

“You fucking a-hole,” I say before noticing that his cock’s longer than normal. “Um…why is that…?”

“Huh. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that fun giving you hell.” He winks before spinning around and heading back to his air mattress, collapsing onto it, cock up as he grabs his laptop and earbuds. “I imagine you didn’t want to help me out with this,” he says.

“Disgusting.”

“Fine. Guess I need to crank one out in the bathroom real quick.” He pops up and heads for the bathroom door, then stops, turning back to me. “Unless this is violating any of the rules. No? Cool. Maybe you should take care of yourself too. You seem way too stressed.” He heads in and closes the door.

I’d growl if he wouldn’t hear me, but instead I fall onto my mattress and bash my fist against it a few times.

One slipup. That’s all I need. And then.