Wanting Winter by J.L. Ostle
One
Winter
Walking outside, I look through my bag for a cigarette and my lighter, and when I find them, I quickly take one lighting it up, inhaling the nicotine goodness. I only smoke when I'm drinking and right now I feel a little tipsy. The place is crowded with idiots and I had to have a few drinks to help bite my tongue where a few of these people are concerned.
“Hey Winter.”
I groan when I hear Patrick’s voice.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” He comes to my side, and I take in another puff.
“I have like twenty other people near me.” I wave my hand around the people milling around.
He shakes his head chuckling. “You know what I mean.”
I do know what he means.
“The place was getting a little hot and I wanted to get some fresh air.” Which is the truth. I love college parties, well I love them as long as I don’t have to interact with people that I hardly know, but when the parties are in small houses where everyone cramps in together, it can put a damper on my mood.
“Having a good night?” he asks me, looking to the ground, kicking a stone.
“Yeah, it’s alright. Candice seems to be having fun.” I look back towards the house. Candice is my best friend who has the ability to have fun at a morgue. She is the party girl. She gets male attention and enjoys getting drunk so what else could you ask for?
“Candice always enjoys partying.”
I nod in agreement.
“So I was wondering—”
Oh no. He’s going to ask me out again. He’s been drinking, and when he starts drinking, he always hits on me. I have known him for the last five years, but I don’t see him in that way: never have, never will. He's a good friend, with shaggy black hair and brown eyes, but there's no attraction.
“If you wanted to go out sometime?”
I inwardly groan. “Patrick, we have been through this: I don’t see you like that.” I continue smoking.
“But if you would give me a chance.” He looks at me with puppy dog eyes.
“It's not about giving chances. I see you as a brother. It would be weird if we dated, and it's not fair to you.” I plead with him to drop it.
“You’re going to see that I am good enough for you one day and that I would treat you like a queen.” He gives me a wink and goes back inside.
I know he will ask again. He thinks that if he wears me down, I will crumble and say yes, but it won't happen. I'm not after any kind of relationship.
Been there, done that.
Got the t-shirt.
Men are assholes.
I had a boyfriend back in high school, and when he broke it off, it hurt. I didn’t see it coming. There were no signs—no signs that I saw anyway. I think deep down I scared him off with what I was after from the relationship, but it hurt more when I found out that it only took a couple of weeks until he was seeing someone else.
Fucker.
I told myself that if I ever get those gittery butterflies, that giddy feeling when I am around a guy, I will give them a chance, but until then I am not being in a relationship just for the sake of it. I also avoid doing one-night stands, so at the moment I am pretty wound up sexually. I am ready to cave, but the guys at this college see me as a challenge: a girl that hasn’t slept with anyone.
I take the last drag of my cigarette and stomp it out on the ground before heading back inside. I am near the door when I get a shiver; I feel like someone is watching me. I turn around, looking at my surroundings but no one stands out. Shaking away the feeling, I head back in, the place now crowded with drunken students. The place already smells like stale alcohol, sweat, and smoke. I squeeze my way through the people until I get to the kitchen making myself a drink.
“Well, well, well, look who graced me with their presence at my party.”
I feel a hard body press against my back and I turn my head to see Joshua Thomson, the college player. He is the most wanted guy in school with his thick blond hair, some of which covers one of his eyes that are a light green. He’s on the football team, and I know his body is pretty lickable, but he's a well-known dick towards women.
Screws em’ and leaves em’.
“Feel honored that I came.” I push my back against him, making him walk backward. “Nice party.” I move to the kitchen counter, grabbing a towel drying up the spills before jumping up and taking a seat.
“I do. You’re the girl men want, but can never have. So how is Miss Ice Queen?” He smirks at me. He is lucky he’s good looking as his charm is as bad as a pile of shit. He is the main one to see getting between my legs a challenge.
“How is Mr. Blue Balls? Still dreaming of my tight pussy?” I lift one leg, placing it on the counter. I'm wearing black skinny jeans, but his eyes still go to my crotch.
“Always. I think if you let me give you one good fuck, it would melt some of that demeanor.” His eyes trail over my body.
“I will stick to my toys, but thanks for the offer.” I wink at him.
He steps in closer, getting between my legs. I look to his perfect green eyes—eyes that make women swoon—but they don’t work on me.
“I will fuck you, Winter. You will beg for more; you will beg me to make you come.” His voice lowers, his body pressed up against mine.