Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game(33)

Maddie could be her. The more I allowed myself to think it, the less I wanted it to be true. Something within me didn’t want Maddie to be Jake’s or most of all that Jake was Maddie’s.

***

Chapter Eleven

It had been a hell of a week. To get my mind off of Jake, his harem of women, and Maddie, I decided to go to a party at Presley Patterson’s house. I knew it was probably a mistake, but at the same time, I was ready for a little refreshment to take my mind off things.

By the time I got there, the party was in full swing. Presley lived in one of the nicer houses on the shitty side of town. The rumor was many years ago Presley’s mom had a fling with Elvis Presley right before he died. Then she’d made her rounds during the 80’s being a groupie for most of the heavy metal bands—the bigger the hair the better. But I guess she never lost her love for Elvis because when Presley was born, she named her after him.

I found most of “the crowd” at the party. I wasn’t too surprised to find a game of practically na**d Twister going on. Presley’s parties were notoriously risqué, even for our crowd. “What’s up, Noah!” Blaine called to me, his voice muffled from underneath a couple of girls stripped to their bra and panties.

“Hey, Blaine,” I replied. I looked around the room. “Where’s the beer?”

“Kitchen,” he mumbled.

I called hello to some of the other party goers as I made my way down to the hall. In the kitchen, I found the mother-load with two coolers of Budweiser. Before I knew it, I’d guzzled three beers. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect than the one I desired. I got a raging pain in my head like someone was stabbing me with an ice pick behind my right eye. The insane thumping of the party music only made it worse. I couldn’t focus on any of the conversations, and I certainly couldn’t get into a curvy freshman who was chatting me up while trying to feel me up.

With my head pounding, I snuck into Presley’s bedroom. I quickly scanned the room for any couples using the room to hook up. Fortunately for me, the coast was clear. I was well acquainted with Presley’s room since I’d lost my virginity to Presley’s cousin at a New Year’s party sophomore year. Jake had reacted like a proud father—thumping me on the back and congratulating me. Of course always the player, he’d lost his when we were in the eighth grade to one of Jonathan’s ex-girlfriends.

I rummaged in Presley’s medicine cabinet for some Advil, Tylenol, anything. Finally, I found some next to a bottle of Midol. Popping pills and chasing them with beer is never a good idea, but I did it anyway. I was willing to do anything—including cutting my head off to be rid of the pain.

I didn’t bother turning on the lights. Being in the dark was better on my head. I eased down on the bed and draped my arm over my eyes. Just as I was about to dose off, I heard a noise next to the door.

“Noah? Noah, are you in here?” a voice whispered.

“Yeah,” I moaned.

Light from the hallway momentarily flooded the room as someone entered. They closed the door behind them. I didn’t know who it was until the lamp beside the bed flicked on.

It was Presley.

“Hey,” she said, with a crooked grin.

“Hey.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“My head hurts like hell,” I groaned.

Presley sat down beside me. “Oh, you poor baby. I’m so sorry.”

The next thing I knew her lips were on mine. I jerked away. “Presley, what the-”

“Shh, Noah. Let me make you feel better,” she whispered, as she pushed me back against the bed. Since my headache was almost gone and she was an incredible kisser, I gave in, and we made out for a few minutes. My hand traveled up her shirt when I finally released her lips, desperate for air.

As I gasped and panted, she grinned seductively at me. “I’ve got a secret.”

“Yeah, so?”

Her breath was hot over my earlobe. “I’m not wearing any underwear,” she whispered, as she crisscrossed her legs.

“Um, yeah, good for you.”

Her hand trailed up my calf to my thigh. Uh, oh, this wasn’t good.

“You’ve got a secret too, don’t you?” she asked.

“No, I’m wearing boxers as a matter of fact.”

Presley rolled her eyes playfully at my response. “No silly. I mean, you’ve got a secret about Jake.”

My eyes widened. How the hell did she know about that?

Suddenly, her hand was inching further up my thigh. “Wonder what color boxer shorts you have on?”

I silently willed that traitorous part of me to be still, but it wasn’t hearing anything about it—especially after Presley’s fingers found my zipper.

“Look, you’re drunk, and we really shouldn’t be doing anything,” I protested.

Her head shook wildly back and forth. “I haven’t had a drop to drink. I swear. I just…” When she nibbled her bottom lip, my erection jumped in my pants. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.” Her hand was inside my jeans now. Fuck me. I had a freight train running through my head, and a wildfire burning in my crotch. But with just one sniffle from Presley, my hard-on began to wither. When I gazed up at her, tears sparkled in her dark blue eyes. “Noah, I don’t know what to do without Jake, and I need to be with someone who loved him like I did.”