Stars (Penmore #1) (2 page)

My nerves made me stutter a little, but before I could get out my name, he growled, “Go away,” and shuffled around the tree so his back was turned to me.

He didn’t even raise his head before he completely dismissed my presence.

His words hit me as if two tiny bullets, and bits of my confidence and excitement began to bleed onto the grass and sticks beneath my feet.

He wanted me to leave. He didn’t care about learning my name, and it wasn’t the day I would be making him smile.

I didn’t wait to be told twice.

I dashed home with tears streaking down my face, slammed the door to my bedroom shut and flung myself onto my bedspread. I also began to fret. After trying to say hi, I feared he might notice me through the window. I was panicked at the thought that he might snarl at me again. Tell me to stop watching him. I might have to go back to being the girl who never got to smile and who only got to listen to her daddy cry each night through the thin walls.

I decided then and there that I was always going to be very careful and remain hidden. I would never give him a reason to growl at me again. I would keep watching, keep smiling, but my lights would always be off. I wouldn’t be making any noise in the future. I definitely wouldn’t be trying to be his friend.

I noticed he started writing in a journal a couple of days later. I desperately wanted to tell him about how much I liked to write, especially stuff about science.

But I knew better. He didn’t need me. Or want me.

It was like the time Mom took me to sit in the front row of the ballet; right before she had to stay at the hospital all the time. She told me that even though I liked to dance, I was an audience member and had to remember that I wasn’t allowed to climb on the stage.

“We have to let the stars do all the dancing, my princess, and be happy to watch,” she said. “They don’t need our help to be beautiful.”

So that’s what I decided I would do.

Let Grayson Waters be the super star while I stayed concealed in the shadows, content with watching.

Right before I decide to give up on catching a glimpse of Grayson this evening—thinking that reflecting on the past while staring at an empty bedroom is a sad way to spend a Friday night even for me—I notice his bedroom door swing open. His dark brown hair hangs heavily over his forehead, appearing as if he has just come out of the shower. His broad, sculpted shoulders fill the doorway, and his electrifying blue eyes are lit up with an unusual level of excitement, even following a win.

I wonder if this is the moment everyone has been gossiping about at school. Has Grayson finally made a deal to go pro straight after graduation? His agility and quick thinking on the field have had scouts and reporters hounding him for years. A lot of girls were trying to jump on the money train before it left town, but not a word has been spoken about any final decisions being made.

Before I start wishfully thinking about the pro team in the nearest city, Mrs. Waters comes into Grayson’s room wearing a Penmore State University sweater. She’s laughing, crying, carrying champagne flutes in one hand and waving around what looks like a Penmore acceptance letter in the other. I watch as they laugh, toast and hug one another. I can’t decide if the silent tear running down my cheek is because I am so happy for them or because I know this means Grayson will be leaving really soon to go to Penmore.

A school that is not only states away from my bedroom window, but also far beyond my prying eyes.

PARKER

The party is in full swing. My first ever frat party and I am hating it. The smell of marijuana and trashy perfume wafts through the air. Red cups litter the floor, my favorite strappy heels keep sticking to God only knows what and if everyone thinks that’s music blaring from the speakers, I have no idea what I have been listening to for the last eighteen years.

I am done.

I’m uninterested in the guys that have been checking me out and I’ve been regretting the short black dress my new roommate, Keeley, convinced me I looked “hot as shit” wearing, all night. I keep trying to tug the hemline down, but of course all that does is make a show of my cleavage.

If people aren’t grinding on each other on the dance floor, they were outside discussing the football team’s training season or sneaking up the stairs to find an empty bedroom, like Keeley and the bassist she met outside.

I have no idea how all the movies and books I have read managed to paint this scene in a desirable light. I wasn’t really prepared to lose some of my brain cells to cheap beer and I definitely wasn’t going to find an empty mattress with the muscle-ridden blond that keeps winking at me.

Seriously, he is
winking
.

If I weren’t afraid he would touch me or spread conjunctivitis, I would offer him some eye drops I keep in my purse for my contacts.

Looking around the room of girls with long blonde ringlets and perfectly styled outfits, I felt like a cliché in a teen movie. The nerdy girl, who tries to go to a party and realizes that even after she’s straightened her frizzy brown hair, she still doesn’t fit in. If only Robbie Amell was here to save me.

“Waters! Waters! Waters!” the entire room suddenly starts chanting in unison, and the very reason I let my roommate convince me to come tonight walks through the door.

Grayson Waters’s presence seems to cause pandemonium, like fireworks on the Fourth of July; everyone starts gravitating toward the brightness that shines from the reigning king of Penmore.

I immediately step back and let the shadow of the staircase hide me. I catch glimpses of him as he moves effortlessly through the crowds of people. He looks happy. I try and smother my small grin. It feels like forever since I last saw him, and I can’t help but do a quick head-to-toe inspection of the boy-next-door.

From his thick, dark brown hair to his chiseled jaw, wide rock-hard chest and finally his narrow hips, it is clear since he started college that he has gotten even more impressive.

He seems edgier, like a lion standing amongst his pride. His usual free spirit is caged and controlled, or maybe it’s just waiting for the right moment to break free. Any part of him that was still a boy when he left our small town is gone; he is undoubtedly all man now.

I have gotten my fill, and I’m ready to go back to my dorm. I experienced my first college party and finally feel like the last few weeks of moving have been worth it.

Penmore not only has one of the best science departments, but it also has a piece of my heart.

GRAYSON

The crowd cheers my name and I just want to be sick. I’ve always hated the pep rallies and school events that inspire Herons supporters to cheer me on before I’ve actually done anything worth supporting. And since the rumors started of our training season being greater than the past ten years, the frat parties aren’t any better.

I love to play.

I love the team.

But I don’t need all this fucking
hero
worship.

There is a shit-ton of other team members who are going to contribute to our outstanding season, and I was starting to get really sick of people forgetting that. Also, what do they honestly want me to say back? I don’t know all their names and I can’t promise to be perfect on the field.

It’s a fucking joke.

“You the man!” says some stranger as he walks up to me, offering me the beer in his hand.

“Dude, thanks,” I reply as I slap his shoulder, grab the beer and work my way as fast as I can toward Andy, the team’s hotshot linebacker.

“Hey, man, about time you finally showed up,” Andy says, fixing his long blond hair into a small bun and sipping on his beer. Ever since he saw Clay Matthews III play for the Green Bay Packers when he was thirteen, he has slowly been transforming himself into his idol’s twin.

I found it hilarious at first, but that shit is starting to get uncanny.

“You just missed this hot brunette. She had an awesome rack, which she kept jiggling, and I swear she was totally about to show me all of her goodies,” he continues, gesturing toward the stairs.

I briefly shut my eyes before I turn to look at my best friend and roommate, replying with, “Please tell me you learned this from actually going up and talking to her? Please tell me you were not just standing here winking at her.”

“Fuck, dude, don’t diss the wink. The wink works,” Andy claims as he high-fives our other team members walking over to join us. He’s my best friend, so I try not to cringe. “D, when you wink, it looks like you’ve got a disorder. I know Jase and Leyton made you that bet, but you won’t get any pussy this season if you keep trying to score with a wink,” I say as I scan the crowd for the hot brunette Andy mentioned. Usually I go for blondes, but tonight I’ve decided I’m not going to waste any time.

After training so hard all week, I thought I definitely deserved some good head in the restroom as soon as possible and maybe, if she was willing, a quick tour of my Jeep Wrangler’s backseat. Not that I have ever met a girl here who hasn’t been willing to undress in the star quarterback’s backseat. It’s a hard burden to bear but I figure if that’s how the cookie crumbles, I might as well eat all that shit up.

At least while I can.

D waves me off and says, “You wait, man. My dream girl is going to love the wink.”

Just then, one of the cheerleaders—Tiffany, or maybe it’s Kylie, not that I really care—struts past us, swaying her hips. Clearly, she wants to draw our attention to her ass. An ass covered in a short silver skirt that is so tight I already know panties won’t be a barrier this evening.

She was also one of the cheerleaders who had been trying to catch my eye after I had an evening with one of her friends last year. Her friend must have shared all about our time in my backseat, because as I reach out and touch her lower back, her eyes turn toward me knowingly and her grin widens.

“Babe, you got plans tonight?” I ask, sliding my hand slowly down her lower back and over her ass. The tips of my fingers lightly stroke the skin of her back thigh, where her skirt material ends.

“Depends if you’re going to play hard to get tonight,” she replies huskily. She probably thinks that lowering her voice below what is clearly her natural pitch is sexy or something.

I pass my untouched beer to Andy, nod to the other boys and lead her to the upstairs restroom. I’m hopeful that the faster I fill her mouth, the faster she’ll stop talking like a man. Before I have time to lock the door behind us, she is on her knees before me. Trying to work each button of my jeans with her teeth.

And, no fucking way, she is growling like an animal.

With the show she’s trying to put on, I’m struggling not to laugh as I carefully reach down and pop the final buttons; ensuring she doesn’t break a tooth and ruin my evening plans with a trip to the emergency room.

As she frees me from my jeans and boxers, I can already feel myself swelling in her dainty hands. Shit. I really have been stressed if I’m getting worked up so fast over this fangirl.

And I definitely need to figure out her name before I take her to the Wrangler. She’ll probably expect me to moan it as she works me.

Not going to happen. I never lose control with a fan.

Before I have a chance to appreciate the angle I have of her cosmetically enhanced breasts, she takes me into her mouth.
Fast
. She starts sucking at the tip of my cock, while massaging my tights balls in her hand. Thankfully, all animal noises have stopped.

The pleasure builds quickly until I am intensely focused on every stroke of her tongue and the slurping noises she makes as she works her way up and down my throbbing shaft.

I’m so focused on her movements and the sounds of her sucking that I miss it.

I miss the creak of someone opening the bathroom door.

I don’t hear the soft gasp of surprise mixed with hurt.

It doesn’t register even for a second the click the door makes when it shuts with the lock twisted in place.

PARKER

Next time I go to a party, I’ll have to remember to bring my own keys for our dorm. Halfway home and I have to turn back to the frat house. Why? Because Keeley insisted that we would come back
together
. Therefore, we only needed one set of keys, which she put in her leopard print-covered jeans.