Precious Consequences(15)

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The guys burst through the front door of Noah and Hannah’s parents’ house, carrying me on their shoulders after our victorious afternoon at the swim meet. Naturally, I’d like to take all the credit, but admittedly, I have a great team of guys who swim just as hard as they party. And tonight, we’re celebrating, both our win and the start of a new season. The grand sized house is already brimming with people and it’s not even 7 pm yet. The guys put me on my feet and they follow me to the kitchen, people congratulating us as we pass. Noah grabs us glasses, instead of those shitty plastic cups, and pours us each a shot of his father’s whiskey.

“Cheers!” he says, knocking our glasses in salute. We tip the glasses back and down the auburn liquid, which burns my throat.

“Let’s get this party started!” Someone yells from behind us. That’s all the invitation the guys need and soon they’ve joined the crowd inside the living room. My eyes roam the area, searching for a dark head of hair, when Rachel appears in my line of vision. She’s sauntering towards me, her denim mini skirt riding up her fake-tanned legs. Her grin is sultry and as she comes to stand in front of me her hands trail up my arms and down my chest. Her fingers brush against my groin. She means business, that much is obvious.

“Hey baby,” she purrs in my ear. “I missed you this week.”

“Uh, yeah,“ I hesitate, trying to come up with a good excuse for why I’ve been avoiding her. “I’ve been busy, assignments and shit.” The truth is I’m starting to get irritated with this girl. She wants something I’m not prepared to give and, well, let’s face it, I’ve been banging her every which way for over a year. I’m bored. I need a new body to play with, one with dark, rich brown hair and piercing green eyes.

Rachel pouts and she reminds me of a constipated duck. “Too busy for me?” she whines, batting her too long eyelashes. Her hand keeps rubbing my groin and my dick hardens, even if it is involuntary. Poor guy’s probably getting tired of seeing the inside of my palm. I look Rachel up and down, contemplating taking her upstairs and releasing my pent up frustration. Nah. I sigh. I need more alcohol for that.

I step out of Rachel’s grasp. “I’m going to grab a drink and hang with the guys,” I say. “Come find me later.”

Her arms cross over her chest and she huffs, but it doesn’t stop me from walking out on her. If I need her later she’ll still be there. I’m willing to bet my left nut sack on that. Pity, really. Rachel deserves so much more, but she behaves like a whore, so I treat her like one. If that makes me an *, then so be it. I’m an *, with needs that need satisfying. Green eyes flash in my mind and a twinge of guilt hits me. Hayley would be more than a quick f*ck, I think, but do I want that? Fuck me if I know. Right now, the thrill of chasing her and getting her is enough to make me want to try anyway. I shake my head, laughing sadistically at myself. I’m a walking contradiction. I use Rachel to satisfy my needs, but then contemplate some kind of more with Hayley, like actually getting to know her? When I know that she’d be the first girl I attempt ‘getting to know’? Talk about f*cked in the head.

After I’ve downed my third cup of warm beer, I find the guys playing beer pong out on the deck and decide to join the fun. A few hours, and a whole lot more alcohol, my head is swimming. A chorus of “Hey Hannah!” resounds from all around the table and I turn to see Hannah walk outside. I frown.

Hayley isn’t here and I feel my excitement from earlier dissolve quickly. Hannah catches my expression before I’m able to right myself and shrugs. She mouths “She had other plans,” and starts talking to Noah and the guys.

Well that f*cking sucks, I think to myself. My whole evening has gone down the shitter.

Oh well, I’ll just keep drinking until I pass out.

I push past the crowd inside the house and grab the whiskey bottle we left in the kitchen. For a brief second I think about my mother, alone at home now that my sister and her husband are back and Jordan is no longer staying with us.

I don’t want to go to that house. I just need to forget, if only for tonight, that I f*cked up our happy family.

As if on cue, Rachel finds me again and this time I don’t stop her. I grab her by her neck and pull her to me roughly, slamming my lips onto hers. I break the kiss long enough to take another big swig of whiskey and drag Rachel up the stairs to a guest bedroom. She strips me of my clothes, and then does a little floor routine for me. The only problem is, my mind is completely numb, and so is my body. My dick doesn’t stir. Fuck. It just sits there, flaccid, against my thigh. Staring at me. Mocking me. That’s never happened.

What is up with that?

I fall onto the bed and throw my arm over my eyes in defeat. Rachel crawls over me and starts rubbing my dick. Nothing. Not even a twitch.

“What the f*ck, Cam?” Rachel bites out. “If you weren’t getting hard for me you could’ve said so before I stripped for you.”

I lift my arm, spying her straddling my thighs and looking down at my dick angrily. That’s all it takes for me to crack. I burst out laughing, my body shaking until I feel hot liquid spilling from my eyes.

“Fuck you, Cam,” Rachel snaps, grabbing her clothes and getting dressed. “I don’t need this. We’re done!”

Her statement only makes me laugh harder, for whatever reason, and only when I hear the door slam shut, do I notice that my laughter is the empty kind.