Brad & Nick

chapter twenty-two: a party in my pants

I stood in front of my closet, painfully obsessing over what to wear to Brad's party. Honestly Brad didn't give a shit about what I was wearing. He was always hyping me up. He always said he  was too busy imagining what was lying underneath,  to worry about what was on top. But why did I even care what Brad though anyways? He probably had some new summer fling, that he had been screwing around with. 

The guy couldn't be celibate to save his life.

Or maybe he was filling his time, slaving to his slut queen Georgina. Just thinking about her had my chest hot. I bet she really dug her claws in him as soon as he and I called it quits, especially since she was going away to college. He probably doted on her like some helpless little puppy dog. It's amazing what a set of tits and some vagina could do to a man.

I'll take Ken over Barbie any day, Nick. Just more and more lies.

I stood in my driveway, as Connor pulled up, looking absolutely delectable. He had actually combed his messy red hair back slick,  highlighting the curve of his perfect jaw. I might have even smelled some cologne on him.

 He certainly was trying to make an impression on someone.

"Someone's looking to get laid tonight," I chuckled. "You actually brushed your hair."

"I could only be so lucky," Connor smirked seductively, pulling a liquor bottle out of his jacket. "Courtesy of my parents."

Connor quickly took a swig handing it to me. I wasn't a fan of brown liquor, but I didn't want to bitch out in front of Connor. So, I took a big swallow, wiping my lips before handing it back to him. I certainly needed some liquid courage if I was going to face Brad. Who knows how he would react when he saw me? He could certainly be a wildcard depending on his level of drunkenness.

Hopefully, he was trashed. So, trashed that he wouldn't notice me, or Connor crashing his little welcome back party. 

Of course, though, this wasn't the case. Although Brad's house was lined wall to wall with hot sweaty hormone filled bodies, heads turned as we pushed through the crowd.

I mean Connor was a 230lb 6ft 2 hunk – of course, every girl and gay guy was wondering who the newest piece of beef was. Stupid me to think, Connor and I could cruise into this party undetected. Corinne, the newest head cheerleader, flocked to him almost immediately. We hadn't even been there for more than five minutes. Desperate, was an understatement. She grinned, grabbing his hand roughly and pulling him out onto the dancefloor. Connor made eyes at me, as she grinded her narrow hips against his crotch. I couldn't help but chuckle. I guess this was her attempt at laying claim to him first.

 Once she put her hands anyone that meant no other cheerleader could touch him. Funny, because I thought for sure she was hooking up with that goon Matt Lieber. But maybe that had ended.

I couldn't tell if Connor was enjoying the attention Corrine was giving or if he was begging to be saved. Regardless, I needed a beer if I was going to survive this shit. 

"Who's the Irish beefcake?" a familiar voice echoed from behind me. My eyes met the hazel greens of Dylan, Brad's ex. So, Dylan got an invite, but I didn't. That was shocking. I didn't even think Dylan and Brad were even on speaking terms. But again, I didn't know what was going on with Brad granted he and I hadn't spoken for over 2 months. A lot can change in 8 weeks. For all I know, they could have started dating again.

"Oh, were you speaking to me," I huffed, sipping my beer. Dylan hadn't exactly been a peach since everything that had gone down spring break with Brad and I hooking up at the beach house.

"I know you and Brad aren't talking," Dylan huffed. "I tried to warn you, Nick. I knew Brad would disappoint you.  But then again - you already know that. I just wanted to apologize for being a dick about everything. I was hurt, and I'm glad we ran into each other here - because I was hoping we could move past all of this and be friends again."