When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(8)

The moment the head of my cock rubs against her entrance, every last beer and shot fade away. I stumble back and button my pants, glaring at the stranger in front of me. She’s not who I want her to be. The scrap of lace she calls panties floats to the floor as I race to the stairs.

When the cool air outside hits my face, I slump down on the brick steps. What was I thinking? The shame of what I almost did weighs heavy on my shoulders. Kendall. Kennedy. Coarse brown hair. Soft brown hair. No tattoo. Tattoo. I only saw what I wanted to see. Their close resemblance has my head fucked up.

It’s only been a week. Her pushing me away doesn’t mean I need to revert to the guy I’m not proud of. A half-ass version of myself. I stand and jog to the sidewalk, readying myself for the long walk home.

A warm body cozies up next to mine, bringing me back from my twisted past. Slow to look, I discover Sandy’s best friend, Ashlee. The smile on her face tells me she either wants something, or she’s back to proposition me, much like last week and the week before.

“Hey, Ash,” I offer before closing my eyes again.

“We should grab dinner some night this week,” she says in a soft, innocent voice. Her chest is against my arm, and her eyes burn into me. Nothing about this girl is innocent.

My eyelids flutter open to her overeager smile. “Ash.” I sit up to gain some distance from her.

“Yes?” she answers hungrily.

I huff out a deep breath. “I don’t want to go out with you.” I don’t bother sugarcoating with a list of excuses. I simply am not interested, and Ash knows it, but she’s willing to still try.

She thinks standing by my side will bring some fulfillment to her life and popularity on campus. With her reputation, I have no doubt what she’s after. Last week, after throwing herself at me and being denied, she plastered her ass next to Rico. For most of the girls, it’s how things run around here.

Ashlee groans and jumps from the couch, looming over me. “Are you gay or something?”

“Let’s get something straight.” I stand and leer down at her. “Just because I’m not willing to sleep with you doesn’t make me gay. Trust me, sweetheart, I’m as far from gay as I can get.”

“Then what’s the deal? I’m not asking you to marry me, Graham.”

“No, you’re asking me to fuck you.”

“And?”

“I’m not that guy. I may have been in the past, but I’m not anymore. If you’re looking for someone to fuck, walk to the kitchen. Plenty of those guys will help you with whatever it is you’re trying to forget.”

“Fuck you, Graham.” She tosses a pillow against my chest and saunters by me with an extra swing in her hips. Over her shoulder, she licks her lips and grins. Her desperate attempt to show me what I’m missing is enough validation I’m doing the right thing.

She snuggles under Rico’s arm. He grins over his shoulder, and with a small wave of his hand, turns his eyes to her. He’ll either thank me later or hate me when he can’t give her the brush off like the other girls.

“Guys, I’m heading to bed.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder when they turn with dumbfounded stares on their faces. “Early morning,” I explain my premature departure again. Turning my back, I skip two steps at a time until I hit the top landing.

Sandy walks out of Griffins room, pulling one of his XXL hoodies over her head. “Think about what I said, okay?”

With a shake of my head, I hug her then head to my room. After a long, hot shower, I slip on gym shorts and fall to my mattress, fluffing the pillow beneath my head until I find comfort. With zero enthusiasm, I turn on the TV and flip aimlessly through the channels until I land on Dirty Dancing. I silently laugh and throw the remote near my feet.

There’s a faint knock on my door when the movie’s almost finished. I twist to see my alarm clock. The face lit up in red tells me it’s a little after ten. The door creaks open and a head pops in.

“Hey, Pretty Boy.”

He hates the nickname the guys gave him, and nothing gives me pleasure like tormenting him. Scanning his eyes over the room, he plops down in the chair across from my bed, points to the TV, and groans. When he turns to face me, I hold back my laughter.

“Seriously, man, nothing else on but this?” he asks, a thrilled gleam in his eyes.

I change the subject. “How was the city?”

“Remember that girl I told you about? Well, I don’t know what to think or do …” He runs his hands down his face.

The small action makes me sit up to ready myself for where this conversation is destined to go. “Well, do you like her?”

“Have you ever met someone, and in a single moment, you know they will change your life?” He waves his hand. “Of course, you have. I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.”

“Don’t apologize.” I pull out a smile to ease his mind.

“She’s crazy beautiful with this long, curly hair. It’s sort of a mess, but it’s what makes her who she is. She’s wild and energetic.” He shakes his head, then looks up at me. “Underneath all of that, there’s a girl who’s broken and tortured, and I’m not sure I’m ready to take that on.”

“Sometimes it’s worth running through the mud for a girl who can change your world. Don’t forget that,” I say.