Unspoken(23)
“Your mouth?” I smirked.
“You wish!” Ellie shook her head. “Seriously, though, you know how in When Harry Met Sally, Harry says that men and women can’t be friends because of the sexual attraction? Well, if you were a lesbian, you couldn’t be friends with girls because of the sexual attraction you had toward women and you couldn’t be friends with guys because they had the hots for you.”
“It’s amazing, then, that Sasha has friends,” I pointed out.
“Just saying that the natural extension of Harry’s theory is that friendship is prohibited between people who could potentially have a sexual attraction toward each other.”
“I’ve seen you puking in the toilet after drinking. That pretty much killed any budding desire I had for you.”
“Dude, I wouldn’t want to be your girlfriend if you’re all judge-y like that,” Ellie pouted.
“You don’t want to be my girlfriend because you like dick too much,” I retorted.
“You, too,” Ellie exclaimed and threw a hot pepper flake packet at my head. It struck me right in the forehead and stung for a moment and then we started laughing again. The hurt inflicted by Clay was cleansed by the support of my friend. Ellie never failed to make me laugh at just the right moment.
Chapter Eight
BO
“SO ANNMARIE WEST?” NOAH SAID as we started our run. “Not your usual type.” He’d decided to do a predawn run before going over to the gym, leaving Grace asleep in his room. She was starting to be like a sixth roommate with as much time as she was spending at our house. I tried not to be a dick about it, as this was Noah, and he’d spent years pining for this girl.
“I have a type?” I dodged his question.
“Mike Anderson describes your type as ‘prime’.”
“That guy needs to get laid. Or get a new hobby.”
“Apparently you’ve never transacted business with him before. He was excited to share with Grace.” Noah sped up, and we ran as fast as we could for five minutes, and then slowed to a jog. Interval training sucks. I’m not sure why I do it other than it seems like a thing Noah enjoys. “Mike says she has issues.”
“Mike says she has issues?” It took Noah about a minute before he realized I’d stopped running.
“What the hell, man?” Noah asked, jogging back to me.
“Since when do you take Mike’s word on a woman? Consider the source,” I fumed.
“Wow, okay, that was probably not well done of me.”
“Not well done? Not well done is drinking the last Shiner Bock and not replacing it.”
Noah clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Say no more. You like her; I like her.”
“Sorry, just on edge.” I rubbed a hand down my face and launched into a pace too fast for either of us to talk.
Noah didn’t let it go, because when we arrived back at the house, panting and sweating like pigs, he asked, “So you like this girl or what?”
“Or what,” I muttered. I didn’t know what I was doing with AM. At first, I thought she’d be a good way for me to pass the time this semester, but after hearing Mike’s story and learning about the showdown at the commons, I knew that I didn’t want to be one more shitbag in a long line of shitbags she’d encountered at Central.
When I saw her in biology, I noticed things about her I’d missed all last semester. She was careful to walk without touching another person. She didn’t acknowledge anyone, not the other students, not the TA, not the professor. She looked straight ahead, focused on one thing, and pretended that the world around her didn’t exist.
AM deserved a guy who could act like a grown-up, and I wasn’t sure that was me.
But the more time I spent with AM, the more intrigued I became. She was reserved, but as she talked, I could see her—her humor and her willingness to challenge me. My “type” were girls who couldn’t remember my name the next day. Who were looking for one night of feeling good. Hell, one of the girls I hooked up with over the summer used some other guy’s name in bed and cried after she came. She was suffering through a bad breakup, and I didn’t mind being rebound guy. We had spent more than a few nights with each other until she kindly told me that while I was the best she ever had, she was looking for something serious and it couldn’t be with a guy who made her cry while she orgasmed. I didn’t let it bother me. After all, the goal was to feel good, and she did when she left me.
AM was so different than the rest of those girls. She wasn’t going to fall into bed for a one-night stand. I had a feeling she’d be reluctant to get involved with me for reasons having nothing to do with my fighting, my past history, or my propensity for hookups. Hell, reluctant was too mild. Scared shitless would be more appropriate.