Angie is up and out of the bed before I can even look back at her. “Hey, um, Nicolette, can I borrow your notes from psych class?”
Nicolette is confused, looking between Angie and me before she nods. “Of course.”
She gets up too, and I watch as they head to the door. Taco moves out of the way, and Angie basically hugs the wall to get out of the room. My brows come together as my heart pounds in my chest.
She’s terrified of him.
He shuts the door and flashes me a grin. “Hey—”
“What happened?”
His grin falters a bit. “Huh?”
“What happened with Angie?”
His grin is gone, and slowly, he shrugs. “She didn’t tell you?”
My heart is pounding so fast and hard, it’s difficult to focus on him. “Tell me what?”
He leans into the wall and clears his throat. “That night at the lacrosse party, we hooked up.”
My eyes narrow. “I’m sorry?”
“Yeah, we made out. No big deal, you and I aren’t together. Just dating, and we both know you’re sleeping with that faggot Asher.”
“Don’t use that word to describe anyone, especially not my best friend. You’re already ignorant enough. And also, what the fuck? I have not had sex with Asher ever—or anyone else lately, for that matter—because I thought we were trying to make this work.”
He gives me a bored look. “Blah, blah, blah. Why don’t you just suck the dude’s dick and get it over with?”
Oh God. Please give me the strength not to kick this dude in the dick. “I’m not even going to answer that because I can’t believe you made out with my cousin. What is wrong with you? She is family. Why would you put her between us?”
“It’s not a big deal. It wasn’t even that great. I wasn’t into it, which is why I ended it. She wanted it, but I didn’t.”
I just blink. I’m having a hard time believing what he is saying. “I am disgusted.”
“Oh Jesus, who cares? It’s over with. We’re gonna miss the movie.”
“How can you be so blasé about it? Like it’s not a big deal!”
“The same way I turn my head when you and Asher are together—”
“We aren’t together! He is my best friend. That’s it. But Angie, she’s my cousin, and you made out with her!”
My skin is crawling, and the words leaving my mouth can’t be true. Angie isn’t like that. She wasn’t drunk that night, and she’s been acting so weird around me. Add in the fact that she basically ran when he came into the room, and I’m having a tough time being in the same space as him. “She wouldn’t do that to me,” I say softly, my eyes burning into his. “Angie loves me.”
He shrugs. “Maybe she was drunk.”
I start for the door, but he grabs me by the back of my arm, stopping me. “Let it go. Who cares? We need to head out.” I pull my arm from his grip and reach for the door.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!”
“Fuck this. I’m leaving. I don’t need this drama.”
I ignore him as I open the door and head across the hall to Nicolette’s room. I push the door open to find Nicolette on the bed with Angie, her arms around her. Angie is crying, and Nicolette’s face is filled with apprehension. They both look up at me, and I meet Angie’s gaze.
“Did you make out with Taco?”
Angie blinks, big wet tears falling from her eyes. “No! I wouldn’t.”
“He’s saying you did.”
She shakes her head violently, her tears streaming down her face as she looks away. “I didn’t want to, Ally. I’m so sorry.”
I narrow my gaze. I know I’m missing something. “What happened?”
She lets out a sob, keeping her gaze averted, and then in a very low and terrified voice, she says, “We were just talking, and then he moved in on me, pressing me into the wall, trying to get his tongue into my mouth.” Her voice breaks as she looks down. “He grabbed me. Everywhere.” She squeezes her eyes shut as she guards her chest with her legs. “I tried to push him away, but then he grabbed me between my legs, and it shocked me. I didn’t know what to do, so I kicked him hard in the groin.” When her eyes meet mine again, she is hazy through my own tears. “I couldn’t tell you because he’s your boyfriend, and I’m so sorry that it happen—”
“Angela Lynn Paxton, don’t you dare say another word!” I yell louder than I intend. “This is not your fault. It’s that piece of shit’s fault,” I say, pointing in the direction he went. More tears roll down her face, and I shake my head. “I’m going to fix this.”
I leave Nicolette’s room, only seeing red. I rush downstairs, hoping I can catch Taco before he leaves. It’s a long shot; he knows he did wrong and ran out of here like a bat out of hell. And for his safety, he better hope I don’t find him. I am shaking, I’m so mad. When I reach the front of the building, he’s on the sidewalk with a friend of his from the lacrosse team. I stomp down the steps and I can hear Angie calling me, but I don’t stop. Even Nicolette is yelling for me, but no one will stop me. Taco can hurt me all he wants, but he will not lay a hand on my cousin.
“You are a disgusting piece of shit, Trey,” I seethe. “How dare you touch her without her permission!”
Taco turns, his eyes dark as he looks from me to Angie. He cuts his eyes back to me, and he has such a guilty expression on his face. “She’s a liar. She wanted me.”
I stop in front of him, shaking with anger. “What’s she lying about, Trey? How do you know she’s lying?”
He looks from me, unsettled, to his buddy, who is gawking at me. “She’s accusing me of touching her, when I only touched what she offered up. She was dancing like a porn star. She wanted to be touched.”
“Did she give you consent?” I scream, and his eyes widen as they fill with darkness. “She can wear nothing in the middle of the commons, twerk, and pop ping-pong balls out of her pussy, and you still have no right to touch her.”
“Ally, stop. It’s over.” I hear Angie say, but I’m already going.
“Whatever. She wanted it,” he says, so unconcerned for her well-being and disrespectful of me. I knew he was shit. I knew it, yet I let him around my cousin and myself. My anger shakes me to my core as the tears start to fall.
“You don’t get to decide that!”
“Get the fuck out of my face. You ain’t shit.”
I can’t even think straight, to be honest. I don’t think—I just shove him, hard, catching him off-balance, and he tumbles to the ground. He starts to get up as I scream, “I am calling the police on you, and—”
Before I can finish, his hand is at my throat, lifting me up to my tippy-toes. I cry out, holding his wrist as everyone screams around us, trying to stop him. His face comes close to mine, and I swear I see the devil in his soul. His grip on me is tight, blocking my airway, and I slam my fist into his wrist, trying to get him to let go of me. His eyes burn into mine, unflinching, as he yells, “You put your hands on me again, I will kill—”
His words don’t make it out of his mouth before his head is whipped to the side by a really big fist. His hold on me is gone, and I stumble back into Angie’s arms. I’m disoriented, but when I see him, I can’t breathe.
Asher.
Chapter Fifteen
Asher
When Ally leaves, I don’t answer Wes’s question about us. There is no point; she made it very clear we are nothing. Multiple times. I’m unsure why that bothers me, but it does. Makes no sense, yet here I am in my feelings as I scroll through Facebook. I don’t even understand these emotions. They’ve come out of left field. Our game night stops once Ally is gone, and soon after, Shelli and Aiden show Boon and Posey the rest of the place. I guess neither Wes nor I care because we stay where we are, on our phones. I text Tony to let him know I will be heading in to get the jumbotron cleaned and to change the bulbs that finally came in. I feel kind of rude not talking to Wes, he’s obviously important to my brother, so I clear my throat as I set down my phone. Really, I’m just trying to distract myself from thinking of Ally.
I hate that she’s going out with Taco. I really don’t know why she is. They haven’t been talking much, and he’s still a douchenozzle. I also hate that I can’t get the memory of her thighs out of my mind. It’s as if the image is seared into my brain. I guess I could have worse things seared in there, but it makes no sense. I’ve seen her in her Spanx, jumping and being a badass volleyball star, but it was her regular-length shorts that had me drooling.
What. In. The. Ever. Loving. Fuck.
“So, Wes, are you the Wes that my sister thinks is hot?”
His brow perks as he looks up at me. He is totally someone Stella would go after. Simply because he plays hockey. I feel like that’s her only condition. I really don’t get it since we grew up without our dad for months when we were younger—why she would want to be involved with that? But she has only dated hockey players. Love them, craves them. She’s weird.