Lovely (2 page)

He smacks me with his backpack. “Yeah, that’s like the pot calling the kettle black, dude.”

He’s got a point there
.

“It’s just like in
Top Gun
,” he blurts out, “you’re freaking Maverick and I’m your wingman, and this wingman is always on the sidelines.” He hauls his backpack behind him. “Alright, I’m off to see the beloved Professor Hallsworth. Catch you later, Ash.”

“See ya, Goose.”

Jason may joke around about his nonexistent sex life, but I know he’ll eventually find someone. He’s smart and has one of those magnetic personalities. Plus, he’s a good looking guy. I mean, I don’t bat for the other team, but well, he’s got blond hair and blue eyes, stands about six feet tall and is well-defined in those areas that women find so tantalizing. Problem is, the guy’s a little scatterbrained. Once someone can get past that, he’ll have found the right girl.

I’m weaving my way through the maze of students crossing the campus when Shelby Finley comes up from behind and squeezes my ass then sidles up next to me. Her bleach blonde, shoulder-length hair is tucked behind her ears, her lips are a fire engine red, and her shorts, well, they should be declared illegal. Shelby’s my current flavor of the month.

She leans over, whispering, “Hey sexy. Any plans tonight? I’m seriously horny and I need to be fucked … only by you of course.”

“Jesus, Shelby. Tone it down a bit, will ya? We’re in the parking lot.”

Her tongue glides along her lower lip. “That’s not what you said the other night.”

I roll my eyes at her and pull the hand that’s glued to my ass away. “I can’t tonight, Shelby. I have to study.”

“Well, that’s a new one. You’d choose studying over …” She leans forward, her breasts spilling out of her blouse, and shakes them at me. “These?”

I tear my eyes away from her chest and roll back up to her face. “I’ll take a rain check.”

Shelby lets out a disappointed sigh. “Alright, well, I guess I have a date with my vibrator tonight then.”

I run my hands through my hair while I reconsider my decision for a split second but then let it go. I need a break from Shelby. “Have fun with that.”

She bats her eyelashes and pivots in the other direction. “See ya, Ash.”

“Yeah, later, Shelby.”

The truth is, I’ve been around the block with a lot of girls. I can’t help myself. Well, I can, but I don’t want to. I love sex and I love beautiful girls. The way their scent lingers in the air, the way their skin tastes under my lips, the way they … well … you get the picture. There’s definitely no way in hell I’m allowing myself to get attached to just one. Seeing my mother’s happily ever after destroyed made me want to shy away from anything that could wreck me that way.

Life changed for me when Dad passed away four years ago. I had big plans before he got sick. I won a baseball scholarship to UC San Diego and the beginnings of my future were wrapped up with a neat little bow. Then the cancer showed up and my life did a complete 360. I watched as a devastating illness stole the only hero I’d ever known in a matter of six months. Six freaking months from the time he was diagnosed with a brain tumor he was gone. My father. The man who was there for me every step of the way. My best friend, my confidante, my rock. The man who sat with tireless patience while I struggled to learn Chopsticks. The man who went against my mother’s wishes on a regular basis so I could have my favorite ice cream before dinner. The man who showed me how to play my first air guitar. The man who taught me how to throw the best curveball, but not how to handle the curveball I was thrown when he disappeared from my life. I dropped out of school for a year and later enrolled at Glendale College so I could be there for my mom, my brother, Colt, and my sister, Delilah. They needed me more than UC San Diego did.

You see, I’m the oldest. The big brother. The responsible one. The one who looks after everyone, kicks the occasional ass, tells someone to fuck off. That’s how it’s always been and I don’t think twice about it because that’s how much they mean to me.

After my dad died, I broke it off with Lila, my girlfriend of two years, and basically started screwing everything in sight. I don’t know if it was out of anger or grief, I just know I didn’t feel anything … and that felt really … good.

I spot Tracy Mercer as I walk past the Psychology building. She purrs my name in that sultry voice as she strolls by me, her long blonde hair fanning her scrumptious breasts, her hips and heart-shaped ass swaying as she moves. She was last month’s flavor … probably my favorite one this year. That is, until she started looking at me with puppy dog eyes and telling me she wanted more. That’s when I suddenly lost my appetite.

Then there’s Shelby. She can be a bit annoying sometimes. Her blonde hair comes straight from a bottle and she talks a lot, but her tits are amazing, and her hands and mouth, well, she knows how to use them.

My feet continue to trail a path across the dewy grass, the cool breeze hitting my face as I make my way to the brick building housing the campus library. I pull off my aviator sunglasses and hook them over the ridge of my t-shirt, exhaling a groan of silent protest. Today’s just another day of going through the motions. My mind runs through the exams I need to study for and the work I need to get done around the house when I push through the double glass doors of the library and see …
her
.

She looks just like an angel.

The sight of her makes my dick hard. An involuntary shudder courses through me, my pulse thrashes against my neck, and my heart beats vigorously inside my chest. Soft waves of chestnut curls dance over her shoulder, her skin is so flawless it’s reminiscent of swirled cream, and her perfectly-shaped lips, lips the exact color of raspberries, beckon to me. Her curves are framed by a blue and white floral dress, her sweet face consumed by a pair of large, black-rimmed glasses. Wait, that’s odd. It doesn’t fit the rest of the picture.

I continue to watch her as she checks books out for students yet, still doesn’t look up. I shuffle my feet along the dark brown rug and wait for her eyes to come to me but I get nothing in response.

Adding a sharp cough to the shuffle ought to do it. Hmph.

She continues to look down at her books, completely disinterested.
Highly unusual
.

I’m not liking it and I intend on changing it. A challenge … yeah, I’m up for it. Thinking fast, I swipe a book off the shelf and toss it on the counter in hopes I can meet her eyes. She moves her painted fingers toward my book and flips it over. A laugh tickles her throat as her head bobs from side to side. When I stare down at the counter it all makes sense.
Pleasing Your Man: Everything You Don’t Want to Ask but Need to Know.
Well, I guess I’ve got her attention now.

She slowly lifts her eyes to mine and any ideas I had in my head go right out the fucking window because those eyes that are peering up at me from behind the peculiar glasses, those globes of rich chocolate brown, well, they’re the most hypnotic pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. I could swim in those eyes. Those are the kind of eyes you get lost in, and right now, fuck if I don’t want to get all kinds of lost.

It feels like time stands still as we stare at one another, and after about three minutes, she finally breaks the silence and speaks.

“Needing ideas, are you?” she says softly, a hint of a smile curling up her shapely lips.

My face warms at her words but I manage to recover quickly. “Actually, it’s, uh, for my sister.”

Her smile becomes tight, her eyes descend, and she seems … nervous. She stares blankly at the book as she scans it. “Well, tell her it’s due back in two weeks,” she offers, then turns around and starts sorting books again.

For a second there, I thought we had a moment, but I guess it was just me having one.

I walk over to one of the tables, reminding myself I have to study, but have a hard time concentrating … especially when there’s something so spectacular in my field of vision. As I attempt to bury my head in capital asset pricing models, my eyes keep rising from the words and looking over behind the counter. I watch her as she continues to check books out for students but rarely makes eye contact with anyone. She really is quite stunning; well, except for those glasses. They’re about three sizes too big for her face and hide such beautiful eyes.

She finally comes out from behind the desk, rolling a cart filled with books across the library. As she traipses by my table, I stretch my arms to the side, yawn, and flex my ripped chest thinking that might earn a look, but she doesn’t even flinch. Let’s face it. There aren’t many girls I can’t make look at me. It’s not that I’m conceited, but I’ve been told many times that I got my devastatingly handsome looks from my dad. Six foot one, solid triceps and biceps due to all the sports I used to play, a six pack from the constant workouts at the gym, and that V thing that all the girls go crazy over. My dark hair is cropped short and my eyes are hazel, just like my dad’s. And I have a pronounced jaw, also a gift from Dad.

When she walks back a second time, I don’t say anything, but blatantly check her out. She’s quite curvy and she has a perfect ass. I should know. I’ve seen quite a few. It’s funny. I should be thinking about her lush, full lips wrapped around my cock, but surprisingly, I’m not. It’s her eyes that are consuming me. I need to see them again. But it’s after ten and I need to get to class. I’ll be back, though. I’ll definitely be back.

I hear Mom call me down for breakfast, but can’t get out of bed. The bright sun filters through the sheer blue curtains and shines directly on my hard-on. I’m about to put my hand in my boxers to relieve myself when I hear a knock at the door.

It creaks open slowly and Mom peeks her head around. “Ash, it’s time to get up, honey, it’s almost 7:30.”

So much for relief
.

“I know, Mom, I’m up.”
Literally
. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Alright, sweetie. Everyone else is dressed, so hurry up.”

I take a look around my room. The blue walls covered with band posters of Creed and Train, the four shelves of baseball trophies, pictures of Dad and me when he was coaching Little League, and an old 8 x 10 photo of the five of us in Disneyland. My eyes land on the Ibanez guitar Dad bought for me when I was fourteen. The one I haven’t been able to play since he died.

This wasn’t in my life plan either, but things change. Jason and I were supposed to get an apartment together and have the full college experience, but I felt like my being around was the glue that kept Mom, Colt, and Delilah together. So here I am, twenty-two years old and living at home.

Mom closes the door and I drag my legs and ass out of bed. I retrieve a towel from my closet and head for the shower when I notice the man pleaser book sitting on the desk. I shake my head and grin all the way to the bathroom. Pulling the curtain aside, I step into the stream of warm water and relish in the feel of it rolling over my body, my mind filled with only one thing: a visual of those brown eyes. For some reason, I can’t get them out of my head.

I trek downstairs past the rows of family pictures lining the wall and smile, immediately noticing the aroma of pancakes wafting through the air. Mom makes us breakfast every morning, sometimes pancakes, sometimes waffles, but always delicious. I love the way our house smells in the morning. “Morning!” I call to my brother and sister.

“What’s up, Ash?” They both say at the same time.

“JINX … you owe me a Coke,” Delilah says.

“I don’t owe you anything,” Colt bites back.

I flick his shoulder with my finger. “What’s your problem, Colt?”

He takes a glass and slams the cabinet shut. “Oh, I don’t know. Mom said I can’t take the car for a week because of my little drunken stupor the other night.”

Makes sense
. “And the problem is?”

Colt does whatever the hell he wants and there’s a part of me that’s always been a bit jealous of that side of him. Being the oldest you’d think that would be me, but I’m stuck with an innate sense of responsibility that holds me back.

He fills his glass with orange juice and protests. “Well, how am I going to pick Stacy up without a car?” Stacy is the girl Colt just started dating, or should I say woman. She’s five years older and I can’t figure out for the life of me what she’s doing with him. It’s pretty clear what
he’s
doing with her.

I pile two pancakes on a plate and douse them with maple syrup and butter. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went heavy on the Jack.”

He groans, snatches a pancake, and stomps outside to wait for his friend Charlie.

“Boy, he’s a grumpkin, isn’t he?” Delilah grins as I stoop to kiss her cheek.

“Good morning, baby sister, and yes, he is a bit of a … what’d you call him?”

She smiles, her prominent cheekbones lifting happily. “A grumpkin.”

“Yeah, that. So do you want a ride to campus?”

“Sure, that’d be great, Ash, thanks.”

Delilah, Colt, and I all attend the same local college. I’m a senior, Delilah’s a junior, and Colt’s a freshman. We’re incredibly close in age and obviously Mom and Dad were very busy in the bedroom. Of course, parents and sex shouldn’t even be in the same sentence. Enough said.