Shut Out (18 page)

“We need a chick perspective on this.”

I look up at Grady. I'm in the kitchen at Jacob's house with him. Ben, Grady, and Hunter have just walked in.

“On what?”

“Scrotum reduction surgery.”

I choke on my latte.
“What?”

“Scrotum reduction surgery.”

“Uh…is that really a thing?”

“Yeah.” Hunter slants Grady a frown. “There are legitimate reasons to have it done.”

I blink. “I guess there could be.”

“Girls get boob jobs.” Ben folds his arms across his broad chest. “Now guys are getting nut jobs?”

I burst out laughing at that.

“You know what I mean,” he says.

“We are not having this conversation,” Jacob announces, frowning. “You are not discussing your balls with Skylar.”

“I'm talking hypothetically,” Grady says. “Do girls care what guys' balls look like?”

I nearly choke again, but I'm also laughing. “Well, I'm only one girl…”

“Yeah, but you're smart. And hot.”

I grin at Grady while Jacob scowls more. “Personally, the most important thing is cleanliness.”

They all nod seriously.

“What about shaving?” Hunter asks.

Every other guy winces. I shrug, my lips rolled in to stop my smile as I glance at Jacob. “Um…sure. But no stubble.”

They nod again.

“Does size matter?” Ben lifts an eyebrow.

I shift in my chair. “Not to me.” Now I have to studiously not look at Jacob, because what I really want to tell them is Jacob's balls are perfect. I love fondling them, teasing them, licking and sucking them…I have to squeeze my thighs together on a burst of lust.

“What if they're really low hanging?” Hunter asks. “Hypothetically.”

“Stop talking,” Jacob says.

“
You
stop talking,” Hunter says.

I giggle. “I don't think there's anything wrong with low hanging. Hypothetically speaking.”

Jacob groans.

“A little slap action during doggy style,” Grady says. “Girls like that, right?”

“Find your silence. Please,” Jacob says. Then he grabs my hand. “We're leaving.”

I can't stop laughing. These guys aren't being offensive; they're cute and funny despite the nature of our conversation. “Wait, I need to use the bathroom.”

He releases my hand and I hustle down the hall and into the main-floor bathroom. I'm sitting on the toilet when I spy the empty toilet paper holder. “Damn.” I open the doors of the vanity beneath the sink, but there's none there. “Oh my God.”

Then I see the stack of fast-food napkins on top of the vanity. Wendy's. Subway. Dairy Queen.

“Seriously?” I cannot believe this. I use a couple of the napkins, which is not the most pleasant experience, hoping they don't plug the toilet.

After I wash my hands, I grab the unused napkins and stalk back to the kitchen. I hold them up. “Guys. This is an atrocity.”

They all exchange guilty looks but shrug. “Oops,” Jacob says. “Didn't have time to go shopping, so we found those.”

Grady bites his lip. “They work, right?”

“Oh my God. Go buy some toilet paper!”

“Sorry, Skylar.”

Ben's sincere apology makes me smile. Okay, it's kind of funny as well as pathetic. I'm grinning and shaking my head as Jacob leads me out. “Where are we going?”

“Your place. You're not allowed to hang out here anymore with those idiots.”

I giggle. “They're kind of fun.”

Jacob is smiling too.

“Oh sweet screaming Jesus.”

I flop onto my back and fling my arms up over my head, my body quivering from an explosive orgasm. Jacob's naked beside me, breathing fast, and he lays his hand on my thigh and squeezes.

“Yeah,” he pants. “That.”

I smile drowsily. I've never been so content or lethargic. I'm not sure if I'll ever move again.

Jacob rolls toward me. “I don't want to leave,” he murmurs in my ear. “Okay if I stay?”

I don't want him to leave either. “Yes.”

I've never spent the whole night with a guy, and it feels intimate and special and sexy. I wake up briefly a couple times in the night, and I listen to his breathing and savor the heat his body emanates. Once he reaches for me when somehow we separate, not that we can get far apart in my double bed, but he's still sleeping, which makes my heart turn over in my chest, and I snuggle in and go back to sleep.

I'm sound asleep and warm and cozy in Jacob's arms when the door of my bedroom opens and bangs against the wall. My fuzzy brain tries to make sense of this. What time is it? Is it morning? I have to work at noon at the diner. Did I sleep in? What's going on?

Jacob stirs beside me and lifts his head. “What the fuck?”

Ella is standing there staring at us, her face contorted. She appears to be having difficulty speaking.

“Um, Ella, what's going on?” I pull the covers up over my bare boobs. I don't usually sleep naked, but then, I don't usually have people walking into my room without even knocking.

Ella glances at Jacob, squeezes her eyes shut briefly, then turns her gaze to me again. “You slept with him.”

“Uh, yeah.” I clutch the covers, giving Jacob a sidelong glance. Ella's upset about this? The girl who's been sleeping her way through the male student body? Also, she knows I've slept with Jacob.

“Not Jacob.” She slashes a dismissive hand through the air. “Brendan!”

The name hangs there between us. The air in the room goes thick and very still. My insides seize up.

Ella holds up a cellphone and takes a step closer, and I can see tears in her eyes. “You slept with Brendan. I read the texts he sent you after.”

“What?” I give my head a shake.

“When I was home that weekend, Brendan's mom gave me his cellphone. They thought it was lost, but they found it in his things. It was dead and they didn't have a charger, but it's the same as mine. She asked me to see if I could find anything that would give them some clue about why…why he did it.” Tears slide down her face. “I didn't want to look at it because I was afraid, but finally I charged the phone and today I read the texts. You slept with him and then rejected him, and that's—” Her voice breaks on a sob. “That's why he killed himself.”

I stare at her in horror, my fingers tightening on the covers. I don't even know what to say to this. Because it's true.

I don't know what the fuck is happening here. My head's still cloudy with sleep, struggling to wake up and figure out what is going on. Not to mention, I'm sporting serious morning wood.

I remember Skylar talking about her friend Brendan, who committed suicide. That's what this is about. But holy shit, Ella is furious. And Skylar is sitting there openmouthed and not saying a word.

“Uh, maybe we could have a few minutes to get dressed,” I say to Ella. “Then you two can talk about this.”

“I don't want to talk about it!” Ella yells, glaring at Skylar. “I'm done with you. How could you do that? It's all your fault that he's…” She sobs again. “Gone.” She makes a terrible choking, crying noise that has my guts twisting.

I look between the two women, horrified.

Skylar's face is pale and crumpled. Now she's crying too. “It wasn't my fault,” she says in a shaky voice. “It wasn't.”

“Yes, it was! You broke his heart and he was devastated. Why? Why did you do that? How could you?” Ella sniffles and swipes a hand across her wet face. “I loved him so much.”

Skylar's body jerks next to me. “What do you mean?” she says slowly. “You loved Brendan? More than as just a friend?” She sounds bewildered.

“Yes!”

“You never told me that, Ella.”

“I thought you figured it out. And then you slept with him! How could you do that?”

Skylar stares at her friend and the pain in her eyes makes me sit up and slide an arm around her.

“You are dead to me.” Ella spits the words out. “We can never be friends again.” She spins around and stalks out of the bedroom. Seconds later, her own bedroom door slams shut.

Skylar is trembling in my arms. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” She covers her face with her hands and bends her head. Now she's sobbing—hard, painful-sounding noises. My guts cramp up even more. Christ, this is awful. I don't understand a lot of it, but it's awful.

“It's okay, baby.” I caress her hair. “It's okay.”

“No.” Her head moves. “No, it's not okay. Oh my God.” Her body shudders with more sobs. I feel helpless and a little panicky. This is
way
outside my comfort zone. Skylar is crying so hard I'm afraid she's going to hurt herself.

I wrap my arms around her, because it's the only way I can think of to help her, and rock her a little as she cries. Maybe when she calms down, she'll want to talk about it. Truthfully, I'm kind of dreading that. This sort of scene scares the living crap out of me and I honestly have an urge to jump out of bed and get the hell out of there.

But I can't do that to her. She's distraught, as much as Ella was when she came in. They're best friends. There has to be a way to make this better. Maybe I can help figure it out. Probably not, because I'm an idiot when it comes to female emotions. But whatever—I can't leave Skylar like this.

She turns into me, still crying, her arms going around my neck and clinging to me. “I'm sorry,” she whispers moments later, when her sobs have eased. “I'm so sorry.”

“Don't apologize.” I smooth a hand up and down her bare back. “I'm not sure what's going on, but you don't have to apologize.”

She swallows and nods, her hair all down around her face, and I keep holding her. I give her more time and then she pulls away and draws in a shaky breath. She shoves her hair back but doesn't meet my eyes.

I reach for some Kleenex on the table beside the bed and hand them to her. She wipes her eyes and blows her nose. Her face is strawberry red and her eyes are puffy. She's still so beautiful, though. My heart squeezes at her misery.

“Want to talk about it?”

She closes her eyes, anguish etched on her face. “God.”

It wasn't a no. I mull that over and decide to press a bit. “You didn't know Ella was in love with Brendan?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “God, no. We were friends, all three of us. We were friends in high school and we all ended up here at Bayard so we stuck together. We were just friends.”

“Did you really sleep with him?” I have to say, I'm not thrilled about this, but I already know she's slept with other guys, and hell, I've slept with other girls, so it's really a non-issue. Not to mention, the poor guy's no longer with us.

She swallows and her lips tremble. She meets my eyes briefly, then looks away.

“It's okay if you did,” I tell her gallantly. I
think
it's gallant. I know I have to say it even if I don't like the idea of her sleeping with other guys.

“It wasn't like that,” she whispers. She twists the soggy Kleenex up in her hands, nearly shredding it.

I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I don't know if I can talk about it.”

My insides twist up into knots again, suddenly afraid of what she's going to say. I hold my breath and keep petting her back. “You can talk to me, baby.”

She gives a tiny nod, her head bent. “I didn't want to have sex with him.”

Oh fuck. Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw. Nausea rolls inside me. I can't even speak.

Her voice is low and wobbly as she continues. “We were at his place one night doing homework. Then we had a couple of beers. Maybe he had more than me, I…was a little drunk, but not, like, passed out or anything. Ella wasn't there. He…” Her voice chokes up. “He started trying to kiss me. He said he loved me. I told him I didn't feel the same way, and I was sorry. He kept kissing me and I told him to stop and I was pushing him away, but he wouldn't listen, and…I didn't want to do it, but somehow we ended up having sex.” A small sob escapes her. “After, I lay there for a while, then I got up and left. The last words I ever said to him were ‘I hate you.' ”

She takes another breath. “The next day he texted me and said he was sorry and he loved me, and could we talk about it. I didn't answer him and he kept texting me. I ignored his texts, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to tell Ella, because they were friends.” Her voice wobbles. “At first I was kind of…in shock. Almost numb. I was ignoring him and trying to pretend it never happened. And then three days later he…he hung himself.” Another sob escapes her.

“Jesus Christ, Skylar. You can't blame yourself for that.”

She lifts her head and I stare down into her beautiful, tear-streaked face, the anguish there making my heart hurt. “Of course I blamed myself. I totally felt like it was my fault.”

“No.” I shake my head, my jaw set. This I know. “It was not your fault.”

“If I'd accepted his apology or talked to him, maybe it wouldn't have happened.” She gazes up at me with tear-drenched eyes. “If I'd reported what happened, maybe he would have got the help he needed, even though he would have been in trouble. I was sure he killed himself because of me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't tell anyone what happened, not even the police. I know I should have, but I couldn't. Brendan was a good guy, and a good friend…How was I supposed to tell people what he'd done?” She swallows. “His parents would hate me if they knew. What Ella said…that it was my fault…I believed that at first. God, I felt so guilty. I understand why Ella sees it that way.”

Christ. Jesus Christ.

“She doesn't know the whole story. It wasn't your fault.” I don't know much about suicide but I know that much. My skin is burning and my guts are rolling. I hold Skylar tighter, squeezing my eyes shut.

“I know that now.” She sniffs. “I do. But it took a while for me to get there…and still, sometimes, I question myself. Brendan was always kind of a moody guy. He'd get down, but usually he was crazy fun. I didn't realize he'd been struggling with bipolar disorder for a while. Then I felt guilty for not knowing.”

“He raped you. You should
not
feel guilty.”

Damn, I didn't even need to go for all that awareness training to know
that.

She gives another tiny nod. “I didn't even want to admit it was rape at first. I kept telling myself I could have stopped him. That I didn't try hard enough to stop him. I could have fought back more and…and I don't know why I didn't. He wasn't violent. But…I didn't want to do it. I told him that. I told him to stop and he didn't.” She bows her head.

I close my eyes on another wave of sick that rises up inside me. I don't know if I can stand the thought of Skylar being hurt like that. For a moment, I'm consumed with black rage.

“I was having nightmares and panic attacks. I was a spaced-out zombie. I felt so alone and hopeless. Then I just couldn't live like that anymore. I needed help. I was determined that I wasn't going to let what happened define me. When I talked to the counselor, the first thing I had to do was admit how angry I was at Brendan. Which was hard, because…he was dead.” She takes a couple slow breaths, fighting for control.

“Well, I'll tell you this…” I narrow my eyes at her. “He didn't really love you.”

Her forehead creases and her lips part. “What?”

“A guy who loved you wouldn't have forced you to have sex with him.”

She stares at me wordlessly and then her face changes and she gives a slow nod. “Oh my God. You're right, Jacob.” Then the corners of her mouth droop again. “He was my friend.”

“You probably don't want to think that the guy who was your friend was an asshole.”

She jerks her head up and down again.

“And you lost someone you care about, which sucks.” I blow out a breath. “Wow, baby. That's a helluva lot to deal with.”

“Now I've lost Ella too.”

“You need to tell her what happened.”

“No!” She draws back, her mouth in a circle of horror. “I can't tell her! I can never tell her.”

I stare at Skylar. I'm not sure what to say. To me it seems obvious.

“What good would it do? It will just ruin her memories of Brendan, and for what?”

“Um…so you two can be friends again?”

She stares across the bedroom, her eyes vacant. “If she blames me now, she'll still blame me even if she knows what Brendan did. I blamed myself. I get it.” Her bottom lip quivers. “And if she blames me, then our friendship is over.”

She turns and buries her face in the side of my neck again. I just hold her because it's all I can do. I have no words to make this right. Skylar's in pain, and I'm feeling it too, my chest burning, and I can't fucking fix it and I hate that.

“I'm sorry.” Skylar mumbles the words into my neck.

“For what, baby?”

“For all this drama. This wasn't part of the deal.”

I let her words sink in. She's right. This is the last thing I need right now.

She glances toward her alarm clock and her eyes fly open wide. “Oh my God! I have to be at the diner by noon.”

It's after eleven and we're still in bed, naked. Skylar is scrambling out from the covers.

“You okay to go to work, baby?”

She makes a face. “I have to be. Shit. I'm a mess and…” She blows out a breath. “Shit.”

“What time do you work till?”

“Six.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“No. That's okay.”

I slide out of bed too and look around for my clothes. I really need to take a leak, but I can't walk across the hall naked here.

Skylar pulls out a pair of striped Hello Kitty boy shorts and steps into them. I grab my boxers and jeans from the chair where I tossed them last night and pull them on. I'd like to stay and watch her finish dressing but my bladder is protesting so I say, “Be right back,” and hurry to the bathroom. Ella's door is still firmly closed, and I wince, remembering the earlier scene.

When I return to Skylar's room, she's already dressed in her hot waitress uniform with the tight pink dress and little apron. I set my hands on her waist. “Have I told you how sexy this outfit is?”

She gives me a wan smile. “No. One of your friends did, though.”

I smooch her lips.

She takes her turn in the bathroom, coming back with her hair brushed into a neat ponytail and wearing makeup that attempts to cover her swollen eyes. I'm worried about her. She's calm but still distracted and visibly upset. She's trying hard not to show it, but it's obvious to me. I don't have much choice but to leave her there, though.

I go to a drive-through and pick up a breakfast sandwich and a big coffee on my way home. I have a fuck-ton of homework to do. Now that we're into the season, it's even more of a challenge to balance all the practices and workouts and classes and homework. Science may come easy to me, but that doesn't mean there's not a lot of work to do, with reading and assignments. And we have another game tonight, which means being at the arena early and then home late.

But I'm too distracted as I crack open my laptop and try to make sense of some notes. I keep thinking about what I heard—that Skylar's best friend forced her to have sex with him. It makes my gut and chest burn with helpless fury. I have the awful thought that it's good he's not around, because if he were, I would kick his loser ass. Then shame washes through me because the guy was so messed up he took his own life, and that's never right.

Stuff that I learned during the training sessions comes back to me too. Consent and intimate-partner violence. They weren't intimate partners, but they were friends and Skylar trusted him. He betrayed that trust.

This makes it all seem so much more real.

And it also makes me think back to what happened at that party last spring.

I've been avoiding thinking about it, because I'd really rather not. But I keep thinking about going upstairs to the bedroom at that house with Ace and Crash, and Brittany. Brittany was a little drunk that night. I didn't think she was that bad, but now, looking back, maybe she was drunker than I realized. She was all laughing and flirty and telling us she wanted a hat trick—meaning sex with three hockey players at the same time—and it all sounded hot to a bunch of horny young guys. Including me.