The Sophomore (College Years #2) - Monica Murphy Page 0,6

ah, expect you all to show up back here.”

“What did you expect then? You did leave all of our names with the doorman,” Ava reminds him, sounding pissed.

God, I love my best friend. I’m too shocked to say or feel anything. I’m numb.

And stupid. So, so stupid.

Jackson practically shoves the girl off his lap and rises to his feet, going to Eli so they can perform some complicated, ritualistic handshake they’ve perfected over time before they quickly embrace. “So glad you’re here.”

Eli pulls away, Ava snagging his arm so she can stand directly beside him. “Who’s your friend, Rivers?”

“Ah, this is…” He gestures toward the woman, who glares at him before telling us her name.

“I’m Brit.” She waves. Wipes at the corners of her lipstick-smeared mouth.

My stomach pitches and rolls, like I’m in the middle of the ocean and about to puke my guts out. I can’t stop looking at Brit, wondering what she has that I don’t. She’s tall. All legs and arms and tits and ass. I’m short. And not much in the tits or ass department, especially compared to her. Her hair is blonde, her makeup is perfect and she looks older than us. Definitely older than me, and I’m the youngest one here besides Ava. While we’re the same age, she’s still got me beat by a couple of months.

So that’s what she’s got. Beauty and age and experience. She’s bold and not afraid to go after what she wants.

Basically, the complete opposite of me.

Jackson ignores Brit, which I take no satisfaction in. He’s too busy hugging everyone, and he saves me for last. As if he knows.

Of course he knows. I’ve been the obvious, ridiculously dumb groupie girl for months. Almost two years, if we’re being super specific.

FML times one hundred million.

“Ellie. Baby. You’re looking good.” He wraps me up in a smothering hug that I revel in for only a second.

Okay, fine. Maybe a couple of seconds. I can’t turn off my feelings for him that quick.

He smells like Jackson and a hint of sweat. His body is lean and even more muscular, I swear. And when I feel his lips press against my forehead in a sweet, chaste kiss, I pull out of his arms quickly, not wanting his mouth on me after he kissed Brit—the sexier, far more experienced groupie.

Ugh, I hate him. I’m in love with him, yet I can’t stand him right now.

“I’m so glad you came,” he says, seemingly clueless to my distress. “Did you like the last song?”

“Yes,” I bite out, and that’s all I can say. If I part my lips again, I might let forth a stream of curses and bitter words just for him.

Why are men so oblivious?

He smiles, his expression tender. Just like it always is when he deals with me. “I’m glad. You know I wrote it for—”

“We need to get going, don’t we, Eli?” Ava asks in an extra loud voice, purposely interrupting Jackson. “We have to finish setting up for your party. You’re still coming to the party right, Jackson?”

“Definitely. For sure.” He nods enthusiastically, ignoring her dark tone. It’s so obvious she’s disgusted with him, but he’s not acknowledging it. “Give me some time though. I need to wrap up a few things here first before I can leave.”

His gaze slides to Brit for the briefest second and I want to die.

I know what he’s going to wrap up. Whatever he started with Brit. I’m sure he’ll have sex with her in this skeezy dressing room that’s probably seen plenty of action in the past. At the very least, he’ll get a blowjob from her.

God. I’m so desperate to leave, I can feel my entire body vibrating with the need to run. Just run and never look back.

“Okay, well take your time—oof.” Eli glares at Ava, who just jabbed him with her pointy elbow. “Yeah, just get back to the apartment as soon as possible okay, bro? We can’t really party until the guest of honor is with us.”

“Yeah. I’ll head over there in a few. Thanks again for coming tonight.” Jackson’s dark blue gaze meets mine and I stare back, letting my fury be known. But it’s as if it flies straight over his head. He doesn’t see it.

How does he not see it?

Oh, I know. He just doesn’t see everything else I throw his way. My undying love and devotion—he’s never noticed that. My endearing friendship? Nope, doesn’t realize that either. I’ve given him hours and hours of