EB 7: Where He's An Asshole That Saves Her

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Endless Bonds Copyright © 2016 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Posted - November 19, 2016

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T R E N T

:: Chapter (07) :: Where he's an asshole that saves her

This isn't what I have in mind when I think of a casual hookup.

"Pink T-shirt" - Because I honestly forgot her name – is talking about poopie, her three-year-old Chihuahua. Who even names their dog poopie? It sounds like a fvcking disease. Or a shit. I just took a poopie. Classic.

I've come to The Night Owl with one sole purpose: to get laid. Now that I don't have anything holding me back, I'm free to do whoever I want. Whenever I want. Not like Rose cares. She's probably packing her bags right about now.

This chick, however, is making it increasingly difficult to make-out with her. Her friends follow her around like flies and I can't get one alone moment with her to ask if she's down for tonight. It's a good thing she's hot, because I never stick around this long to hear someone – or anyone really - talk about a poopie.

But I'm not the only one looking for a good shag apparently. Jared seems like he's having the time of his life dry hvmping some poor freshman girl on the dance floor. 

Pink T-shirt says something and her entire posy laughs like hyenas. I flash a smile around the rim of my coke, even though I have no clue what the fuck she's talking about.

All I know is that she's hot, has a fantastic rack, and is a bit of an airhead. But that doesn't matter to me. It's not like I have any plans of seeing her after tonight. I just want to sleep with her.

"–And he told me I had a beautiful smile." She bats her lashes, and, for a second, it looks like she's having an epilepsy attack.

The mouthful of coke gets lodged in my throat and I choke. Pink T-shirt and her friends are looking at me expectantly. Are they for real?

"He was right." I don't even know who the 'he' is. "Gorgeous smile."

She tosses her head back and giggles along with her friends. My eyes fix on the spot where her red bra strap peeks through the collar of her top. I can't stop staring at her breasts, wondering what they would look like without the t-shirt. Or red bra.

Shit. I run my fingers through my mussed hair. Jared's right. I'm extremely fucking horny if I'm getting this desperate.

Once again, Pink T-shirt – I really need to get her name right before this turns awkward – leans closer to me and places her hand on my arm, squeezing suggestively.

"What are your plans for tonight?" she whispers close to my ears. Her friends have suddenly disappeared. And I seriously need to pull my gaze away from her chest.

There's no use beating around the bush. I give her a wicked grin. "You."

She bites her lip sexily and pushes her brown hair over her shoulder. Cupping her cheek, I bend down to kiss her when she suddenly jerks away with a breathy sound.

"Wait," she hushes quickly. "Let's get out of here first. I'm going to go tell my friends bye."

"My place?"

She nods and steps in to peck my lips in a chaste kiss. Tease. "Stay put." She trails her finger down the length of my forearm, and bites her lip again. I want to bite that lip. "I'll be right back."

"Hurry." I down my coke and watch her hips sway as she saunters to the dance floor.

I briefly consider telling Jared I'm leaving since I'm the one who drove us here. But at the moment, he looks preoccupied with his tongue shoved down a girl's throat. I don't want to cock-block.

I pat my jeans pocket in search of my keys and wallet. Just when I'm about to leave and pursue Pink T-shirt, my eyes catch a familiar bronze streak of hair.

Cheryl. She's leaving alone, or at least that's what it looks like. I shouldn't care what the fuck she does, but then I remember that she said Tara was supposed to drive her home. Tara's nowhere to be seen.

When I recognize the creeper who's been leering at Cheryl from across the bar, since the second I handed her a drink, instincts kick in. Should I follow her or let her be? I'm torn between my raging semi and the one person who's been my closest girl best friend since I was little boy.

She continues to weave her way through the mass of people and I notice that she' still being followed without a clue. My fingers run through my head and I know I'm going to regret my next decision.

"Fuck," I curse, tug my grey beanie hat back on and glance down at my constricted jeans. Then I stare at Pink T-shirt who's now hugging her friends' goodbye.

As I leave my hookup hanging at the bar, I know that no amount of distractions of mine could ever outweigh the safety of Cheryl Anderson.

No matter how much she's fucking hurt me.


* * *

Goosebumps rise on my arms as I step outside in the light breeze. It's not that hard to spot Cher. She's at the corner, near the lamppost, warding off the guy. Failing miserably though.

I charge towards them. Cheryl's back is to me so she doesn't see me approaching. My spine stiffens when the guy rests his unwanted hands on her. She pushes him away with a look of fear and backs away a couple of steps. "Don't touch me."

At the sound of her protest, I see red. My mind flashes back to the time where I'd thrown my little sister a huge birthday party and some a$$hole had tried to take advantage of Cheryl. Suddenly it's her ripped red dress and tear stained face from so long ago that play in my mind.

"Didn't you understand?" I hear myself saying menacingly. I come to a halt when I'm close enough. "Get away from her."

Cheryl flinches and turns around to pin me with haunted eyes. Her gaze soon morphs to an accusatory stare.

The guy sways on his feet. I step in front of Cher to block his view of her. "You deaf? Did you not hear a single word I said?"

He raises his hands defensively, his eyes bloodshot red. Clearly, he's a little over buzzed. "I don't want any trouble, man. She's the one who asked for it."

Behind me, Cher sucks in a deep breath. My fists clench. "Listen to me," I grind out. "I'm giving you five seconds to get out of my face and leave her alone."

"Or else?"

I crack my knuckles. "You don't want to know."

We seize each other up for a moment before he realizes it's useless. Good. He knows a losing battle when he sees one. I have all this pent-up frustration - Rose leaving, Cher returning, and not getting laid - and no outlet. If the guy in front of me doesn't leave, he's going to be the outlet. And I'm going to be glad to give him a black eye or two.

Casting us one long look and swaggering away, he mutters, "Whatever."

I take in a much-needed deep breath and turn around to face Cheryl now that my plans are ruined. Something about that soft vulnerable expression twists something inside of my chest. My shoulders sag.

Dammit. I really need to stop caring for the people that leave me.

"Thank you," she whispers and her throat works. My gaze runs over the slender, smooth column of her neck. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because you looked like you needed it."

"That's twice tonight," she remarks and chuckles a little humourlessly. Her gaze shoots skyward. "For someone who wants nothing to do with me, you sure are up in my business."

Her words are meant to jab and they... work. It irritates me to have her point out the truth. Problem is... if Cher's ever in distress, I don't think I could ever stop being in her business.

I cross my arms over my chest and channel the most annoyed look I can muster. "What do you want me to say? Sorry? Because I'm not. You would have been in serious trouble if I didn't show up when I did."

Mouth parted, she looks at me like I'm a total a$sh0le - which, in this case, I kind of am. To her anyway.

"I don't want you to say anything," she snaps and my eyes fall on her lips. Had they always been this pouty?

I check her out as subtly as possible; from her bronze mane that doesn't know if it wants to be blonde or brown, to her fuller looking chest and tanned legs. Toned and mouth-watering. Those legs look like they go on for miles even though she's tiny. Cher looks good. Real good. Fucking sexy even.

Back up, man. There must be something really messed up with my head if I'm checking out my ex-best friend. Squeezing my eyes closed, I try to shake out that image.

I run a hand over my face. "Look. Let me drop you home." Maybe I need to call this a night and just go jerk off.

"No," Cher says firmly, imitating me and crossing her arms over her chest. The motion only pushes up her cleavage. I swallow thickly, trying to stare at anything else. It fails.

Sleep. Sleep is what I need. "Cher, don't argue with me."

"Tara is driving me home. I can't leave without her."

Regardless of what she thinks, I wasn't taking no for an answer. I pull out my car keys and head for the parking lot. "It's cute how you think you have a choice. Get those legs moving."

"Trent!"

I pause midst stride, glance over my shoulder... and am hit with a wave of nostalgia. Her hair blows in the light wind and she has this look on her face... the same one when Jared and I once broke the head of her favorite Barbie doll when we were young. We did it to Nat all the time. It had been Cheryl's turn that day. Now sadness and betrayal coated her face. I don't know. Nor did I want to think too much about it.

"I'm exhausted, aggravated-" And horny, "-and I just want to go home." And take a cold shower. I press my hands on top of my head. "I've already left the girl I was suppose to take home so I could save you, and I don't want to leave you here alone in case that creeper comes back. This time I will punch him. So, please, let me drive you back to your dorm. Don't give Jared a reason to bail me out of jail tonight."

Cheryl looks like she wants to put up a fight before her head hangs guiltily. She follows me to my car, but I don't open the passenger side of the door because I'm apparently an asshole. Might as well play the part.

Something like a strawberry and vanilla scent evades my SUV and the smell hits me like a tidal wave. My eyes flick over to Cheryl and unfortunately land on her lap...on her bare toned legs. Her dress barely covers anything. My eyes widen. Well, fuck. I clench my hands on the steering wheel and my knuckles whiten. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I really need to jerk off when I get home. I'm getting hard just thinking of my ex-best friend's scent and her perfect long lean legs. I'm a fucking mess.

"Are you looking forward to starting the semester?"

I'm about to answer her softly spoken question but then I remind myself that I'm annoyed and I lost my chance at getting laid. And I'm horny and...Cheryl has a fantastic pair of legs with the softest looking skin. She crosses her legs and I nearly groan. Maybe I can call Tonya over. She's always game to fuck. God knows I need it tonight.

"Trent?"

I don't answer her. I'm too busy being mad at Cheryl. One, she ruined my chances with Pink T-shirt. Two, she's gotten so much more stunning over time and I itch to touch her long bronze hair, to feel the softness of her skin beneath my rough fingers (like that's an OK thought to have about your ex-best friend, eh). Three, I'm so fvcking desperate I may have to call bat-shit crazy Tonya to come to my dorm room and fvck me hard and risk her thinking we're in a relationship the next morning. Fvcking damn shit.

I know she feels hurt and rejected right now but I don't care. My wounded pride stops me from saying anything. I grit my teeth.

Cheryl gets the hint and she tenses up briefly, choosing to stay on her phone throughout the rest of the ride. Probably texting Tara.

Soft rap music resonates through my system, but even that can't fill the deafening silence between us.

It can't fix what's broken with us.

I don't utter a word as I enter her parking lot. I don't even put my car in park. I stare ahead. Too pissed at the world and the girl next to me. For shutting me out the last two years without giving me a proper reason. For making me once again drop everything to attend to her needs.

There was a time where I'd do anything for her. Jump off a bridge. Cut off my own arm. Anything.

But that's the thing with her and I. She's done this to me once in the past, shutting me out for no reason until weeks later she saw the mistake in her doings. I always chase her like a lost puppy and she always wounds my pride.

Not anymore.

Cheryl takes the hint when I don't look her way. She jumps out of the car, mutters a barely coherent thank you, and closes the door. I speed out of the parking lot without seeing if she got in safely.

The disbelief on her face doesn't go unnoticed by me.

It bothers me.

But then I remind myself I'm an asshole and this is just the kind of shit assholes pull.


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A/N's: Soo....leave me your thoughts on Trent and Cher's second encounter? Do you think he'll warm up to her? How's that going to work out? LOL, Trent's totes checking her out? Love hearing your thoughts!

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