“You are not planning to marry that girl.”
“Is that a question or?”
“It’s a goddamn statement you little prick.” He looks near to busting a vein in his forehead. “You will not be marrying someone like that, and definitely not having children with them.”
“Someone. Like. What.”
“Beneath us.”
I laugh incredulously. “You really think that your last name and bank account make you some sort of god.” I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it.
“Need I remind you, you share the same last name, son, and that bank account has kept you very happy.” He straightens the lapels of his jacket. “Keep your girlfriend for now, Teddy. Have your fun. Play your games. But remember, I play games too, and I not only call the shots,” his voice lowers, and he leans into me, his alcohol laced breath falling over me, “I always win.”
When he’s out of sight, I kick at the bench nearby, cursing under my breath.
Hate is a strong word, but there’s no better one to describe how I feel about my father.
16
Vanessa
I knock on the door to Teddy’s dorm room and rock back on my heels. My bag is cradled to my chest, my fingers fiddling with a patch I ironed onto it. I can’t help but feel extremely awkward standing here. The dry erase board on the door says, “My dick is bigger than Teddy’s.” With a crudely drawn penis. Someone else has come along and adorned the little guy with a curly fro that I think is meant to be pubic hair, a mustache, and a quote bubble that says, Bonjour!
I knock again and yelp when the door swings open.
His roommate towers above me. He’s even taller than Teddy, and I have to crane my neck back to take all of him in.
“Hi,” I squeak.
His brown hair is shaggy, but coiffed back in an artfully messy way. Heavy scruff covers angular cheekbones and dark bushy brows arch over warm brown eyes.
He would be entirely intimidating if it wasn’t for the wide smile he boasts.
“Ah, hey, Vanessa. Teddy mentioned you were coming over to watch a movie.”
He insisted I needed to start making regular appearances at his dorm or Jude would start to get suspicious. So here I am. Overnight bag and all—yeah, he said this had to be a sleepover, but his ass will be sleeping on the floor.
Jude closes the door and turns to me, his grin growing impossibly larger. His hands go to his narrow hips, and I feel my face heat with nerves. I never seem to know what to say to people that I don’t know well, and knowing that he went with Teddy all the way to where I grew up—
“Thank you,” I blurt.
His brows furrow deeply. “Uh … for getting the door? Sure. You’re welcome.”
“No, not that.” I shake my head, frustrated with my awkwardness. “Thank you for … for what you did with Teddy. I…” I look down at my scuffed ratty pair of Sperry’s. I got them second-hand from a thrift shop and they belong in the trash, but I can’t seem to part with them. Forcing myself to meet his eyes, I say, “Thank you for what you did with Tristan.”
“Ah, shit. You don’t have to thank me for that. Sounds like that prick deserved to be taught a lesson.” His voice lowers and he adds, “I gotta admit, it was interesting seeing Teddy lose his shit like that. He’s such a chill guy, but he’s crazy fucking protective of the ones he cares about.”
“He cares about me?” The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them.
He gives me a puzzled look. “I would hope so. I mean, you’re his girlfriend.”
“Right.” I give a tiny laugh, covering my face with my hands. “Where is he anyway?”
“Shower.” He tosses his thumb toward the bathroom. “You can hang out here or his room if you want.”
“Oh, I’ll uh just go to his room.”
Jude points me to the right room, and I give him a smile of thanks as I drop my bag on the floor.
I spin around in a circle, taking in his room uninterrupted while I have the chance.
There’s the stereotypical Sports Illustrated calendar hanging on his door, but beyond that it’s nothing like I expected. The bed, gray and white bed covers and sheets, is neatly made. His desk is clutter free, with only his laptop, a notebook, and pen on top. There is a pair of jeans over the back of the desk chair and that’s the only ‘dirty’ thing about this room. I expected clothes all over the place, most likely unwashed, his bed a mess, and trash piling on the floor.
It’s such a contrast to his chaotic personality.
Sitting on his bed, I reach over and trace my fingers over dinosaur stickers adhered to his wall.
The bathroom door opens outside of the room, and nothing prepares me for the sight of a damp Teddy in only a single white towel.
Sweet baby Jesus, give me strength to resist this man.
Droplets of water cling to his impressive pectorals and abs, sluicing down and getting lost in the terry cloth towel. There’s a scar on his abdomen, jagged and what some might call ugly, but I find it fascinating. Scars have always drawn me in. The way I see it, they tell a story.
His brown hair is black with wetness, and green eyes are sparkling with barely withheld laughter when he catches me staring.
“Hey, Van.” His voice is practically a purr.
He closes the door behind him, and I ease off the bed. “I’ll step outside so you can change.”
He grins, that cocky adorable smile that makes my gut dip. “You’re my girlfriend. This isn’t anything you haven’t seen before.”
“Wh—” Before I can get the question out, he drops the towel, so it pools on the floor around his ankles. “Oh my God.” I slap a hand over my eyes, but not before I get a full look at his penis. His very large, surprisingly nice-looking penis. But Jesus Christ, if it’s that big when he’s flaccid, I can’t even imagine when he’s hard. There’s a small four-leaf clover tattoo in the dip of his V that no one would ever see unless … well, unless he’s naked.
Teddy chuckles, the sound warm and laced with humor. “It’s just a penis, Van.”
“That’s not a penis!” I shriek. “That’s a battering ram!” I drop my hand, not thinking, this time getting a shot of his perfect ass before he fully pulls up his sweatpants.
No. Fucking. Boxers.
He turns, his grin even bigger than before. “So, you’re saying it’s big?”
I blanch, lips parting. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stick my chin in the air. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. It’s not big. It’s average. Small even. It’s the Volkswagen Beetle of penises.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, baby, it’s so cute when you lie to me.”
My hands fist at my sides. “Don’t, oh baby, me.”
“Why not?”
I ignore his question. “And what the hell did you mean by having seen your penis before. Unless you’re having some weird ass sex dreams, I have not seen your penis.”
He chuckles, pulling out his desk chair and running the towel over his damp hair. “I didn’t mean in the literal sense. But since you’re pretending to be my girlfriend, it’s safe to assume Jude thinks we’ve had sex, and he’d get suspicious if you left the room.”