But now, all I can think of is Grant. I’m picturing his lips on my neck and his strong hands unzipping my pants. My hand grabs the back of Rob’s neck, and when I feel spiky gelled strands instead of soft staggered layers like earlier, I pull back.
“Let’s eat, we can always do this later.” I push him away and jump off the counter, quickly re-fastening my pants.
“Well, that’s a first. You want to eat instead of fuck,” he says, but it doesn’t seem to bother him too much.
“You’re right, I need to eat,” I say, trying to change the subject. If I don’t get these thoughts of Grant out of my head, there’s no way I can be with Rob. How did I get myself into this horrible situation?
“How was your family?” I ask him after we each take a seat at the table, unwrapping our sandwiches.
“Good…they missed you,” he says, taking a bite of his sandwich.
“Mine were upset they didn’t get to meet you.” I’m wondering what kind of response I’ll get from him. As much as I tried to brush it off that he didn’t make the three-hour drive back to meet my parents, it upset me that he couldn’t or wouldn’t fit it into his schedule.
“I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, babe, but meeting the parents never goes very well for me, and I really don’t want to be grilled on why I like fucking you.” I abruptly pick up my head and drop my sandwich.
“Is that all I’m good for?” I ask him. He doesn’t even have the courtesy to look up at me. “Rob!” I yell.
“Of course not, stop being so dramatic. I know you’ve been through shit, but don’t lay that on me. It wasn’t me that did that to you.” He finally looks up and pops a fry in his mouth, completely unfazed by what he just said.
“Thank you,” I sarcastically say, standing up.
“For what?” he asks, twirling his tongue around his front teeth.
“For confirming that I was right when I didn’t FUCK you earlier on the counter.” I slam the chair into the table and walk out of the room.
“Jessa…Jesus. It’s always drama, drama, drama,” he shouts and I stomp up the stairs, slamming my door.
He’s been back for less than four hours and we’re already fighting. One thing I’m happy about is that I don’t have to come up with some excuse not to have sex with him tonight. I change into my black pajama pants with pink skulls and crossbones, along with a matching pink shirt. Crawling into bed, I pull the covers up to my neck. I curl into my pillow and wince as all my earrings poke the side of my head.
Rob just doesn’t understand what happened to me. He thinks I should be able to forget it by now and has no tolerance for my insecurities, even though I’ve come a long way. But his impatience is starting to make me think that we aren’t going to be the ever after I once thought we were destined for.
As these thoughts tumble through my mind, Jason once again invades my head. I try to push him out but he’s always there. “You’re such a whore!!” he screamed. “Who do you think you are, some fucking sex goddess? You think that every guy wants you?” I fell to my knees and begged him to stop, but he stood over me, pointing his finger in my face and humiliating me in front of all our friends. And as if that wasn’t enough, he finished me off the next day.
I’ve been honest with Rob about my depression, and he seemed to care in the beginning, but lately he’s changed. If he isn’t fucking me, he’s practicing with the numerous bands he’s a member of. He no longer takes me out to dinners or movies. From Thanksgiving to now, our relationship has taken a one-eighty and I’m not sure what happened. The worst part is, I don’t know if it’s him pulling away or if it’s me. Briefly, I’ve wondered if he’s acting on something I’m putting out there. Can he sense my desire for Grant?
Ugh, Grant…I feel like an idiot for kissing him, even though he definitely didn’t push me away. If anything, he pulled me closer. His tongue was so gentle and soothing as it explored my mouth and I love that he didn’t rush it. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so wanted and desired by someone from only one kiss. When his fingertips grazed the exposed skin above my waistline, chills ran across my back, making me want more. All his passion and need consumed me, and I almost came completely unglued. When I was finally able to step back, his eyes gleamed with a look I’ve never seen before from any guy.
I tense when I hear Rob stomping up the stairs, but his footsteps continue down the hall. The water turns on and I know he’s going to take a shower. I remind myself that he’s a good guy and he does care about me. I slowly stand up and make my way to the door that connects the bathroom to both our rooms. Rob stands naked, ready to get into the shower. When he sees me, he offers me his hand and I take it. Apologizing in my ear, he slowly pushes my pajama pants and underwear down, and then draws my shirt up over my head. His lean, muscled, tattooed arms wrap around my waist, and I let him saturate my thoughts completely. Forcing Grant out of my head, I give myself fully to Rob. He’s the one I should be with since he accepts my past, and although Grant is a great guy, I don’t think he would be so understanding about it.
Rob says sweet things in my ear while he washes my body. When I get out, he wraps my body in a towel and leads me into his room. Laying me in his bed naked, he curls up behind me and kisses me on the shoulder, telling me goodnight. When my eyelids become heavy, I’m certain this is exactly where I should be. I just need to keep Grant at an arm’s length and my yearning for him will wane.
Chapter 3
Grant
It’s been two weeks since New Year’s and I’ve kept my distance from Jessa. If she wants me, she knows where to find me. I’ve been working out like crazy at Barbells, even bench pressing with some of the guys to work off the frustration Jessa’s built inside of me.
There are two major problems with what happened that night. First, I did the one thing I’ve been promising myself since high school I wouldn’t do…I kissed another guy’s girl. Second, I have no room in my life for someone right now. The last thing I want is Jessa getting the wrong idea. As much as I like her, she deserves better than me. Not to mention, I can’t afford any distractions this semester. I need to keep my eyes focused on finding the job that’ll get me the hell out of this town.
A double major is an excruciating feat, and my spring semester is jam-packed in order for me to complete my education in four years, as my father requested. Paying for my schooling is the one thing that asshole has done for me. As far as the fraternity fees, spending money, and anything else, I work for every last penny.
After I graduate, I intend to cut off what little communication I have with him for good. The whole four years of college has come down to me making it on my own, with no help from him. I’ve busted my ass to make sure I become the successful advertising executive that gets rewarded with a large bank account, never wanting for anything.
The snow still carpets the landscape of campus, the plowed sidewalks forming a serpentine maze from building to building. Bypassing the pockets of ice, I walk into my second home, McHenry Hall, for my Human Resources Management class. The last thing I want to learn about is how to handle people in a workplace. I’ll be damned sure not to have that as part of my job description when I accept my dream job. That’s why I have delayed this course until I could no longer avoid it.
Dreading the torturous class, I shuffle into the lecture hall and her unique smell of coconut and vanilla hits my nostrils. My eyes eagerly comb through the students, like a drug dog that has located his scent. I find her two rows up from where I’m standing with her back to me. Her slim legs are crossed under the desk and she scribbles on her notepad, ignoring everyone around her.
I slowly walk up, taking the seat behind her. Leaning over her shoulder, I say, “Hey, sweetheart. You want to come home with me tonight?”