Collette West's Blog - Posts Tagged "game-on"

Game On
by Collette West
BONUS CONTENT

Flashback Chapter One
High School Hailey

Four years earlier

"I can't believe you talked me into this," I mutter, sitting next to Jilly on the couch, and watching Matt Travers guzzle beer into his mouth straight from the keg.

"C'mon. Give it a chance." He stares at me intently. "You have my undivided attention. What more do you want?"

"Stop it." I jab him in the ribs as the ball they're using to play beer pong goes skidding by our feet.

Jilly grabs it and throws it back so hard that it ends up in the kitchen, forcing Beth Altell, my ‘frenemy’ turned reluctant hostess for the evening, to go chasing after it.

"Nice," I chuckle into his shoulder. "See, now that was entertaining."

"If it comes over here again, I'll throw it to goddamn China if I have to," Jilly growls, staring down some of his fellow teammates. "I'm not gonna let anyone bother you."

"I love when you get all protective of me." I smile up at him but falter when I see the way that he's looking at me—like he's not fooling around, like he means it. I hold his gaze, unsure of where he's going with this. He's not teasing me like he always does. This feels serious.

"You look really pretty tonight, Hailey." He reaches forward to play with a strand of my hair, and I swallow hard. Is he really doing this right now?

"Thanks," I respond, blushing and turning my head toward the TV, blanking on whatever reality show MTV is playing.

A few people who are sprawled out on the floor glance up at us curiously, probably wondering if Hailey Halpert and Jilly Gillette are finally going to get it on.

I hear soft moaning coming from the loveseat across the room, where Rebecca Silver and Vinny Wargo are making out. I try not to look when Vinny unhooks her bra beneath her shirt, giving his hands free access to go to second base with all of us watching. They seem fine with it, but it's making me feel uncomfortable. That's why I don't go to these kinds of parties. Not like I'm ever invited. Tonight, I'm tagging along because Jilly wanted me to, and the only reason I agreed is because, hopefully, this is the last time I'll ever have to see most of these people.

Jilly's hand trails through my hair, and I know immediately what he's up to. A smile tugs at my lips as I scoot around and bring my legs up beneath me. He twists my hair around his fingers as he begins to braid it, never pulling too hard or getting any of the strands tangled. He's a lot gentler than I am when I do it; that’s why it feels so good. There's something about having someone else do something you normally have to do yourself. It's so comforting. I let out a yawn when he taps me on the shoulder.

"Oh yeah. Sorry," I mumble, slipping the hair tie from around my wrist, handing it back to him.

"Somebody's getting tired," he chuckles, grabbing one of the pillows on the couch and placing it on his lap. "Why don't you lie down and relax?"

My eyes widen. Is he making a move on me? Jilly and I have hung out practically every day all through high school, and not once has he ever indicated that he views me as anything more than a friend.

"Uh, okay," I say uncertainly, slowly lowering my head onto his lap and curling up my legs.

This feels so weird, and I don't know if it's because I hear people start to snicker or if it's because I'm not used to getting intimate with a guy, let alone Jilly. I don't know what I'm doing, and it shows.

Beth ends the beer pong game and starts turning most of the lights off, making me feel not so exposed. The flickering of the TV glows around us, and people start to pair up, finding shadow-filled nooks to get lost in. There's still a pretty boisterous group in the kitchen, but the vibe in the living room has certainly changed in a hurry. I hear the sound of lips on flesh, the telltale smack of mouth-on-mouth action as couples start to get hot and heavy all around us.

Jilly shifts beneath me, and my head goes up and down with his knees. I'm glad that he's big enough that his body requires the whole couch, so we have it all to ourselves. I don't move, remaining as still as I can. He doesn't say anything. It's like he's immersed in the TV program and doesn't want to be interrupted or something.

This is not how I imagined this playing out between us. Don't get me wrong—I always hoped that it would, just not like this. It's like he needed an audience in order to find the courage to actually touch me, like he's used to performing on the field in front of a crowd.

I'm starting to feel hot, so I roll up the sleeves of my sweatshirt. He takes advantage of the opportunity, stretching out beside me and tossing the pillow aside so now I'm flush against his chest.

"You don't mind if I get more comfortable, do you?" he asks after the fact.

"No, that's okay," I respond shyly when his hand glides down my arm, giving me goose bumps.

"Good," he whispers softly.

His fingers find the tender area of skin on the inside of my elbow, making me shiver, and he continues downward until his fingers interlock with mine and he’s holding my hand. I try to contain a sigh when his thumb moves against my palm in a lazy sort of way like he couldn't be happier or more content than being right where he is at this very moment.

It's a welcome sensation getting to feel his body this way, being so close to him. His fingers are large and long, graceful even, the hair on his arm soft, the span of his wrist strong. I never realized how comfy his flannel shirts were until I laid my cheek against one, and now I know I could cuddle next to it all night long. Even though I'm probably not going to get a wink of sleep, I'm so revved up.

The throbbing between my legs becomes unbearable as I squeeze them tightly together, curling my toes. My breathing becomes heavy, and my body feels like it's on fire, making me want to tear off all my clothes and just go at him.

But I can't.

I hear the sexy noises increase all around us, and it ignites something primal in me, like I need him to kiss me, to do something to me, but he remains ignorant of my distress, not knowing what his touch is doing to me. I shimmy against him and all he does is lift our interlocked hands and rest them on my hip, grinding a bit beneath me. I bite my lip, wanting to cry out, needing more from him.

But then I hear my name coming from the kitchen.

"Who knew? Hailey Halpert?" a male voice says, whistling loudly.

"Oh, please!" I hear Beth respond. "That's about all Jilly's gonna get outta a stone-cold bitch like that. Come here. You gotta see the look on his face. It's priceless."

A chorus of laughter breaks out.

"That's so sad," another guy remarks.

"I think it's cute," a girl's voice pipes up.

"You would," someone responds.

"Would ya shut the fuck up already?" Vinny bellows from the loveseat. "I'm trying to get laid here!" He grabs Rebecca, hauling her off the loveseat, and she giggles, flinging her legs around his waist as he storms out of the living room and up the steps, no doubt taking her to one of the bedrooms to finish what they started.

Jilly tenses, watching them go, but he doesn't make a move to follow them and find an empty bedroom of our own. Not that I want to have sex with him. I don't intend to rush into anything, but some privacy would be nice.

But we remain on the couch, frozen against each other except for his wandering hand that has me as horny as hell and dying for more.


Flashback Chapter Two
High School Jilly

I've never taken Viagra, and now, I’m glad I'll never have to. Who knew an unassisted erection could last for hours?

Hailey Halpert… God, the things you do to me.

I'm a mass of conflicting emotions. I've wanted to try this with Hailey for so long, and while I made a bold first step, I chickened out halfway through, too timid to take things any further. She's lying on top of me, so still that, at times, I don't know if she's fallen asleep, and I don't want to wake her. But then, she surprises me, returning the pressure of her hand in mine.

She's sideways on my body, her hip right below my belt buckle, above that most sensitive area. She has to feel it. I just wish she could help me do something about it. There's nothing better than having her in my arms for an entire night, but my dick just won't let me relax and enjoy this. Oh no, it wants more—a lot more. But I'm too afraid to go after it.

Because this isn't what I wanted for us.

I shouldn't have brought her here. My buddy, Rick, let me borrow his car so that I could pick her up, something I'm usually not able to do on my bike. I should have taken her on that back road behind the baseball field in Creekside Park where nobody goes. Even if we just sat and talked all night, it would've been better than subjecting her to this semi orgy in Beth Altell's living room. No wonder she hasn't moved a muscle in the last half hour. She's probably mortified over what's going on here. I am, too.

I could've taken it slow, maybe tried to move in for a kiss, if I had done this right. But not now. Not after the lights went out. I grip the side of the couch with the hand that's not in Hailey's until my knuckles beg for mercy. Teenage guys aren't known for their self-restraint, and I'm no exception. I should get up and pretend like I need to go to the bathroom and take care of business on my own, but that makes me feel like I'm using Hailey somehow, and I don't want to do that.

I'll hold on as long as I can.

I take a deep breath and try to think of something else to clear my head, something that has nothing to do with sex, like bunny rabbits or kittens, but Hailey tilts her head up ever so slightly and I get a whiff of her rosewater scent, making me twitch down below. I grit my teeth and concentrate on the TV.

Thankfully, the assholes in the kitchen seem to have calmed down. One more wisecrack at Hailey's expense and I was going in there no matter how much I'd hate leaving this couch. Neither of us does the party scene, but I thought that, just this once, it'd be good for us to get out and enjoy the end of our high school career just like everyone else. Big mistake.

Sure, I'm a jock, but the underage drinking thing just isn't my scene. I don't want to mess anything up when it comes to my future. One incident is all it'd take to label me for life, and it's a risk I'm not willing to take. The draft is happening in a few weeks and there's no way I'm messing that up. If I'm the only guy here not drinking tonight—good.

Besides, it's not like I’d fit in by getting loaded anyway. Everyone's always treated me more like an oddity than Loftus Central High's star baseball player. From kindergarten on, I've been the big kid in the back of the room that no one really talks to. Until Hailey glided her fingers across my face in Mrs. Gellar's art class.

She squeezes my hand again, making me smile, and I squeeze hers back. We go back and forth like this for a while, like it's a game, but she still doesn't lift her eyes to mine like I want her to. I need to have some idea about what she wants me to do. Is she on the verge of falling asleep? Would she be cool with me taking her upstairs? Does she just want to go home?

There's a dewiness to her skin now. She's all flushed beneath my fingertips. This is the first warm night we've had so far this spring, and with the number of bodies in this room, it's not surprising that the windows are fogging up. She must be roasting in that sweatshirt, but she hasn't taken it off, making me wonder if it's because she doesn't have anything on underneath.

My pulse hammers through my veins again, and I press my backside even more firmly into the couch. I can see a hint of daylight through the window, and I know I'm not going to make it until then. Fuck. My stupid body is about to betray me. One more move and I'm a goner.

And that's when Hailey slides her leg up mine, her knee hitting me in that delicate area. I jump to attention, hastily sitting up, having her fall off me onto the side of the couch. She looks at me questioningly, alarmed.

"I…I…I gotta go," I stammer over my shoulder, covering my crotch with both hands. "I forgot I have work at Rick's…a job I promised him I'd do…a leaky carburetor a customer needs fixed by this afternoon."

The excuses tumble out of my mouth one after the other, and she just stares at me with her hair sticking up and her cheeks all red.

"Go," she says, a trace of disappointment in her voice. "I'm only a block away. I can walk home once it gets light out."

"Are you sure?" I question her, knowing I'm making a big mistake by leaving her here.

"Uh huh," she responds listlessly, turning inward, already shutting me out.

I step over the bodies on the floor, careful not to crush somebody's hand or pull someone's hair. When I make it to the door, I glance back at Hailey. She’s sitting on the couch with a dazed expression on her face.

Angry with myself, I bolt out the door, colliding with a row of empty liquor bottles on the stoop, knocking them over, but I keep going. There are people asleep on the porch, draped over the wicker ottoman, and rocking to and fro on the oversized swing. I ignore them, desperate to get out of here before somebody sees the large stain on the front of my jeans.

I lumber toward Rick's car and dig the keys out of my pocket, furious at myself for screwing this up. This was my big chance and I blew it. I don't think I can face her again after this. I bash my head against the steering wheel, knowing that I probably just lost my best friend because I'm such a fuckin' head case.

I don't know how to satisfy a girl. I don't know how to give Hailey what she needs or how to even go about asking her what she needs. I'm too afraid to be alone with her to find out. What if I can't go beyond holding her hand? Or what if I do? What then?

I should just let her go. Maybe it's for the best. I’m leaving soon anyway. Then she won't have to be stuck with a loser like me, because I wouldn't wish that on anybody.

***

I keep my distance from Hailey.

I don't call. I don't text. I don't visit. Nothing. Cold turkey is the only way to do this.

I take a swig of Mountain Dew and watch everyone mingle around inside the VFW hall for Vinny Wargo's graduation party. There's a DJ playing shit like the "Macarena" and "The Electric Slide," but there's nobody under ten on the dance floor. Yeah, this party sucks ass. The only reason I'm here is because Vinny was my catcher for four years and he has the bone bruises on his hand to prove it. I owe the guy at least an appearance before I check out of Butesville for good.

I just have to pretend that Kurt Nelson from Mountain Area isn't sitting in the far corner, but I have a feeling it's going to be difficult. That prick always has to start something whenever he sees me, and I’m not in the mood.

"So you still haven't talked to her, huh?" my pal, Rick, asks, bumping my shoulder.

"Nope," I respond, scanning the room with my eyes.

"That's cold, dude," he says, and I can feel him glaring at me.

"It's the way it's gotta be, man." I take another gulp, trying to block out the pain.

"Maybe not," Rick snickers.

I finally turn and look at him. "What are you trying to say?"

"Because she's here, Jilly. I just saw her walk in." Rick points across the room, and my heart stops.

I don't reply. I just stare longingly in her direction until her eyes come to rest on me. Hailey never comes to parties. So what is she doing at this one?

"Don't just stand here." Rick smacks me on the back. "Go talk to her."

"I can't." I lick my lips, trying to get the feeling back in my legs.

"Why not?" Rick groans.

"You wouldn't understand," I mutter, unable to take my eyes off her as she strolls around, staying as far away from me as she can.

"Try me." Rick crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You never told me what really went down at Beth's sleepover. So how can I give you any manly advice if you won't even tell me what happened?"

"Manly advice?" I huff. "Talk about the blind leading the blind."

"Hey, man. I have way more experience with the ladies than you do. Or did you already forget that I got to second base with Britney Harris after the prom?" Rick remarks, and he can't keep from grinning. "That's why I lent you my car, man. That thing's a chick magnet."

"Rick, what is she doing?" My blood starts to boil when I see her take a seat at Kurt's table.

"Flirting, I'd say," Rick deadpans as we watch her toss her hair over her shoulder and giggle at whatever Kurt is saying to her. "He always used to talk to her whenever we'd play Mountain Area, didn't he? He's probably just messing with your head again. You know how he is relentless until you kick him back into the hole he crawled out of."

"Yeah, but she never used to give him the time of day." I watch her cross her legs, the skirt of her white cotton dress riding up even higher over her thighs—something Kurt doesn't fail to notice when he places his hand on her knee.

I take one step in their direction, when Rick grabs ahold of my arm. "Don't even think about it, my man. If you go over there, it's gonna end badly, and you have the draft coming up real soon. Don't be stupid."

I hold my ground, agonizing over every movement, watching Kurt bring his chair closer to hers. I can't believe what I'm seeing as he leans in, placing his hand on her cheek. My hands curl into fists when he lifts up her chin and goes in for a kiss.

I don't know what I expect—that she'd slap him, push him away, scream at him, something. I never thought she'd kiss him back. It seems to go on forever as my world comes to a screeching halt, and I feel several people turn to stare in my direction. But it's not until Kurt finally relinquishes her lips and she glances over at me that I know that it was intentional. She wanted me to see this. She came here purposely to drive me up a wall.

And it's working.

"Jilly, you gotta decide right here, right now," Rick says quietly. "If you want her, go fight for her, but it's not gonna bode well for your baseball career. Kurt fucked up his pitching arm. He won't have any problem doing the same to yours if you go over there and try to pull her away from him."

I breathe in and out, uncertain as to what I should do.

Rick talks aloud, trying to figure out the motivation behind her actions. "I don't know why she's pulling shit like this. It's not like her. You probably did something to piss her off, and she's trying to make you jealous—"

"Well, she is," I grumble, watching Kurt rest his forehead on hers. He kisses her again, and I have to look away.

"Take off. Go somewhere and cool down. Deal with this later," Rick pleads, begging me to see reason.

"No need," I respond coolly, tapping into the ice water that runs through my veins whenever I pitch. "If that's how she's gonna react, then I'm done."

"Jilly, c'mon," Rick moans. "You love the girl. She just wants you to show her that you do. That’s all. She's sick of you keeping it all inside, and frankly, so am I. You gotta put yourself out there, dude. We're talking about Hailey here."

"I gotta go," I bristle as I step past him, hurrying toward the door, cursing at the tears that are rising to the surface.

"You're gonna regret this, man," Rick calls out to me. "I'm tellin' ya. Don’t do this. Don't end things like this by walking away."

"Too late," I yell, pushing the door open with both hands, not even bothering to look back.

My mom’s gone. My dad checked out. Let’s face it. Everybody always leaves me. It was only a matter of time before Hailey bailed too. So why should I be surprised?

I only wish it didn't hurt so goddamn much.


Game On

Game On
by Collette West

My latest sports romance is now available.

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Readers, bloggers, Good Choice Reading, Indiesage Promotions and Tasty Book Tours for helping GAME ON‬ top out at #2 on the Amazon Best Seller list in Sports Fiction during its release run!

I heart every single one of you, Jilly girls :)

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