Rich Prick by Tijan

32

Blaise

It was nice to spend the day with Aspen and Zeke. My girlfriend and my best bud were getting along. Zeke didn’t bring up the party again, and I was grateful. That would’ve made Aspen tense. I didn’t want to put her in a situation she wasn’t ready for. Having Zeke here was a big deal, and I thought he might have realized that.

He brought out a soccer ball later, his head cocked to the side. “Yeah?”

It’d been a while since I played.

I wanted to. Instantly. The feel of kicking it, moving it forward, moving it with me, running alongside it as if it were a part of me—that all came back to me in an instant.

I wasn’t known for soccer here. I was enjoying that. It was a break from another thing that came with New York. The pressure. The extra attention.

I got attention here, but it wasn’t like anything I got in New York.

I was enjoying that, and Aspen. I glanced over. I hadn’t talked to her about soccer yet. She had no clue, and right now, I kinda liked the confusion there. But damn. Zeke knew what he was doing when he brought that out. Just seeing it in his hands and I wanted to rip it from him, herd it, keep it to me, and that feel of running the length of the field, kicking it in, almost nothing was better. Well, sex was, but I was really missing the feel of scoring a goal especially when it was after a tough battle.

Zeke couldn’t compete with me. If I gave in—fuck. Who was I kidding?

“Give it to me.”

His grin turned cocky. “Come get it from me.”

There was a section of grass on the other side of Aspen’s dad’s man-shed.

Zeke led the way, swaggering over there like he could hold his own against me. He knew I played. He knew how well I played, but I was thinking that he had forgotten.

He was about to be reminded.

He turned, dropping the ball with his hands going to his hips. He was going to say something, maybe lay out some rules, but I was already there.

One touch and I pulled the ball from him.

“Hey!”

His legs closed. He thought I was going to kick between them, but I didn’t. I merely reached out, my toe on top of the ball, and I tugged it to me. That’s right. It was mine, not his, and I flashed him a grin, knowing he’d pick up on my sentiment.

He scowled. “Not fair.”

I laughed, starting to run with the ball. “If you think I’m playing with a handicap against you, no fucking way.” I urged it farther down the grass, nudging it with the side of my foot. The inside. The outside. I bounced it back with my heel, stopping, rotating, jumping around it, and when Zeke got closer, I flipped it in the air, my knee bouncing it beyond him.

I was toying with him.

He knew it. I knew it. I caught his grin. He was loving this too.

My legs were tingling. There was a pull in my gut. My foot was aching, needing more and more. Harder. Faster.

I played with Zeke, easy keep-away game until the ache was too much for me to ignore. The grass wasn’t long enough. There was space on the side of Aspen’s house and kicking the ball farther, I pushed off. I left Zeke in my trail, handling the ball between myself. I moved it up and around, jumping, spinning. I stopped it, the back of my heels imprisoning it and I flipped it up and over to the front of me. I loved doing that. I caught it in the crook of my calf and knee, then tossing it to the grass and moving it forward once more.

Jesus.

I got lost, playing, pushing myself.

Challenging myself.

I forgot time.

This was how it was with soccer. I needed a worthy adversary. I needed to let out my pent-up tension. I needed to be forced away from it. I needed to go back in, stealing it, knowing that victory. Relishing that victory.

I was salivating all over again.

Yeah. I was ready for soccer to come back. Only another month and I’d have to start training, then another month after that and I’d be on the field again. I couldn’t wait.

I stopped, sweat pouring down me, and a burst of applause came from the sidelines.

Aspen and Zeke were both there.

Zeke was wearing that knowing smug look. Aspen’s eyes were big, dazed, and her lips had parted. I recognized the look. I was feeling it too, and there was a whole other urge I had to fight off because I really wanted to grab her, tell Zeke to piss off, and drag my girl upstairs.

“Long time coming, man.”

I grunted, reaching out and Zeke hit his fist to mine.

Yeah. Long time coming.

“I didn’t know you played soccer.”

I shrugged. “I’m kinda on break, so I haven’t talked much about it.”

She frowned a little. I saw the questions, but then she nodded to me.

We headed back, my hand slipping into Aspen’s.

As if there’d been a conversation about it, both Zeke and Aspen didn’t bring up soccer again. Instead, we showed Zeke the movie room and he was stoked. (His word.)

There was more I hadn’t known about.

Aspen showed us the tricked-out basement. There was an even larger theater room down there, which her parents used for their work. She’d mentioned that before, but it was cool to see it.

There was also a gaming room, which had a pool table, air hockey, table football, and a basketball-shooting game. Benny and Miss Sandy kept bringing down snacks and drinks, so we hung out in there most of the day. Zeke and I had reverted to being little boys, and we were in game heaven. Aspen played too, laughing at us, and I couldn’t help myself. Any excuse to touch her, and I took it.

When Zeke went to the bathroom, I had her pinned in the far corner in a heartbeat. She moaned, and we were both panting when Zeke returned and cleared his throat. “Dude.”

I flashed him a grin, raking my hand through my hair.

He rolled his eyes and challenged Aspen to an air hockey game.

Before they began, he made a point of telling me to go for a walk and think grandmotherly thoughts.

I shot him a cocky smirk, but did as he said. When I came back, they were both laughing.

“I’ve never seen my dude so happy,” I heard Zeke tell her. “You’re the reason for that.”

“Yeah?” Aspen replied.

I had to smile. She sounded nervous and hopeful all at once.

“Yeah.”

Ping.

Someone just scored.

“Don’t hurt him, okay?” Zeke added after a moment.

Ping!

“That goes for you too,” Aspen responded, her tone chilled.

Zeke grunted. “Man, I really like you. Have I mentioned that?”

I heard the soft thud of the puck on the table.

“You sure you went to FCA?”

They began playing. Slap. Thud.

Another ping.

“Since the fall,” Aspen said.

“Huh. Are you like a silent assassin or something? How’d I never see you?”

I could hear her smile. “Because I’m a silent assassin.” Slap, ping. “I win.”

I took that as a sign and walked back into the room.

Zeke shook his head, standing back from the table. “Your girl kicks ass at air hockey.”

Aspen’s grin turned shy. “I used to play with my brother a lot. We had these at Hillcrest.”

Her brother. Owen.

I made a note that it was time to push her about him. She was ready.

Crossing the room, I moved to stand behind her, and put an arm against the table on either side of her. She was trapped, and I looked over her shoulder to Zeke, who was shaking his head. The walk hadn’t helped me, not even a little bit.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” I asked.

He gave me a look. “You tell me.”

Zeke could easily go party. I could read that from him, yet he was here. He was worried about me, and I wanted more time with both of them. Just them. I straightened, pulling Aspen back against me. “Let’s get food and booze and watch a movie here.”

Zeke flashed a cocky smirk back. “Sounds perfect.”

We’d just headedout in my truck when Zeke said, “I like her.”

Aspen had chosen to stay behind, but we were going to Roussou for the pizza she wanted. It was supposedly the best, and she wasn’t having it when we suggested any place in Fallen Crest.

So, we were driving to Roussou.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her brother?” Zeke asked.

I slowed, pulling up to the gate. I nodded as Carl waved, and I pulled through.

“Because…” Fuck. What could I say here? “Because I don’t know much. She doesn’t talk about Owen that often, and I don’t know what happened. I’ve not pushed her.”

“I’m not talking about that brother,” Zeke said. “But I’d like to hear about him too.”

It took a second.

I clued in and glanced over.

Holding on to the handle above his door, he lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah. That brother.” His mouth set. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

Shit. “You know?”

“We watched a movie. The account said Aspen Monson. That house? Your girl said she moved to town in the fall. I know those directors moved to town at the same time.”

I nodded.

I gripped the wheel. “It’s new with her and me. I’m not used to giving a shit about someone, and she’s got some…”

Zeke relented, his hand dropping from the door handle. His head rested against the headrest. “She’s got some hang-ups. I get it. And you were worried about me going all fanboy? You think I’d push an angle to use your woman or something?”

I gave him a look.

Zeke’s face got hard. “Dude. Seriously? I don’t give a fuck about them. They ain’t you. They ain’t someone who’s made you smile. I can be normal, you know.” He cursed under his breath, looking out his window. “I mean, I get it. The reason I like Mason Kade so much is because you took off. Mentors and shit—I don’t have one. You anchor me. No one anchored me when you were gone, but the idea of…how not to be? Mason Kade provided that. It’s why I look up to him so much. That make sense?” He cursed again, looking embarrassed. “Look, whatever. You don’t have to worry about me. It’s cool who she is, but that’s it. I know you heard us, and I meant what I said to her. As long as she takes care of you, I won’t be a dick to her.”

“Got it. Thanks.” My voice felt strained.

This had quickly gotten to be too much talking, too much sharing. Both of us cleared our throats. I expected a comment about someone’s pussy to break the mood, but instead I got: “Daniels hit on me.”

I expelled some air. “I forgot about that situation.”

“I handled it. I won’t touch her. I wouldn’t do that to you, but she’s rallying. You gotta know that.”

“I forgot. I’ve had my own crap, you know?” I turned onto the highway that’d take us to Roussou.

“I know.”

We drove in silence.

We were ten minutes out when he asked, “What are you going to do?”

“She said she and the girls were going to go after Aspen. So I guess keep Aspen away?”

“We got three months of summer. I don’t want to not hang out with my best friend.”

I didn’t want that either. “I’ll figure it out.”

He nodded, and we finished the drive in silence.

I’d never been to the Roussou pizzeria, but the place was busy when we pulled in. Inside, Roussou students were everywhere, and conversation stalled at the sight of us.

“Should I call the guys?” Zeke lowered his voice.

Seeing who had gathered around a table in the back, I wasn’t sure.

“Nah,” I told him. Fuck whatever was going to happen. If we busted heads, fine by me. I’d not let myself think much about last night, about what my brother and his friends had found out, but screw them. I wouldn’t let myself walk scared, even if we were in their town.

I went to the counter and put in Aspen’s order.

The girl was taking it down when suddenly her head popped up. “Is this for Aspen Monson?”

I almost bugged out. “Yes, and keep it down about her name.”

Her eyes got big. “Oh! Oh. Sorry. I—no one else orders that pizza. Cilantro, mozzarella, caramelized onions, Roma tomatoes, and pineapple aren’t ordered everyday. With an egg in the middle of the pie.” She looked me over and then moved to Zeke before telling us our total. Once I paid, she printed off my receipt and handed it over. “I like Aspen. That’s all.”

I eyed her, putting the receipt in my pocket. “Who are you?”

“Ava, but Aspen wouldn’t know me. I’ve just been here when she picked up her pizza.”

Oh. Well. Then I was fine with this Ava girl.

“Yeah. She’s cool.”

Ava handed the order to the guys in the back and returned. She cocked her head to the side. “Are you her boyfriend or something?”

Zeke barked out a laugh.

Her eyes grew noticeably unfriendly.

He just laughed harder.

From the side, I heard a voice. “Ava, it’s cool.”

Ava looked. I looked.

Bren, my brother’s girlfriend, stood glaring at us. “He actually cares about her.” She raised her chin, her eyes cold. “And he better be good to her, or I’ll slice him.”

I smirked back, noting Cross behind her. “Keep your woman in check, brother. She’s showing her fangs. If she keeps at it, I’m going to think she’s jealous. Wouldn’t want to start thinking she wants to be me or have my hands—”

I was interrupted by a fist across my face.

And that’s why I’d said it.

Maybe I’d started to get the itch when Aspen said her favorite pizza place was in Roussou. Maybe the idea had begun to form then and grew as we drove. Or maybe it was just always there, nestled under my chest, waiting to come out every time I saw him.

Either way, I welcomed his punch.

I loved it.

He hit me, and I reacted, wrapping an arm around his waist. I dragged him outside, the doors bursting open, and then it was on.

There was yelling around us.

At first there were hands trying to drag us away, but this was more than a school rivalry. We were brothers, and we hated each other, and I think this was something we needed to do.

After a bit, a circle formed around us. Bren and their friends held Zeke back.

Cross and I were trading punches.

I was relishing this moment.

He hit me. I hit him.

He threw an uppercut, so did I.

After the sixth punch, he realized what I was doing, and he started to falter.

I was grinning like a madman, and I loved even that. I rushed him, tackling him to the ground.

He didn’t know anything about me. He didn’t know who’d tucked me in when I was younger. He didn’t know I played soccer like a goddamn badass. He didn’t know where I was going to college or that I felt almost as much loyalty to Zeke as he and his friends did to each other. He didn’t know any of that shit.

And he didn’t deserve to know.

I was done with him, and even though the sky was starting to spin and I tasted more blood than I wanted to, it was time to knock his ass out.

I twisted, prepared to take out his knee when I heard a sudden yell, “Hell no, you don’t!”

That’s when I felt a shove from behind. I went down, and when I looked up, some guy was there—some big motherfucker, and he reared back.

Well, fuck.

Then I saw nothing.

ASPEN

They should’ve been backby now. It was almost nine. I paced.

I was a mess, and I didn’t like this. The pizzeria was not that far. After calling Blaise’s phone twenty times, he finally answered.

“Oh my God! Where are you?” I shouted.

I shouldn’t shout. I needed to calm down.

I heard a voice, but it wasn’t his. “Who is this?”

“Who are you, and where is my boyfriend?” I demanded.

The person on the other end sighed. He sounded older. “Your boyfriend got into a fight with his brother.”

“His brother?”

“Yeah. Look, you’re not going to lose it if you come here, are you? We don’t want another fight to break out. We’re having a hard time keeping him and his brother apart.”

What?! “Where?”

He told me the address, and I wrote it down. “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hey, uh—maybe bring a new shirt for him or something. There’s a lot of blood.”

My stomach clenched. I swayed on my feet, but new shirt. Got it. Check. The blood? I’d think on that later. “I will.”

I hung up, and I didn’t think about where I was going, or who I was going to see. Those would’ve been my normal concerns. I wasn’t alarmed as my GPS took me out of Fallen Crest and toward Roussou. The pizzeria was in Roussou. I’d expected that.

But I didn’t expect to find myself parking in front of a bounty hunting office.

I looked over the vehicles parked outside, clenching Blaise’s marijuana shirt, which I’d started to sleep in. It was the only one he left at my house.

I lingered on a distinct Hummer.

Oh, crap, crappier, crappiest.

Maybe it was a different Hummer. I really, really hoped so, because I knew he’d recently gotten a new Hummer.

And this one looked new. It looked brand new.

Was it…?

I quelled my nerves and walked past it, ignoring the Massachusetts license plate. I was trying to tell myself it wasn’t him, but then I walked inside.

There were guys everywhere.

I heard shouting from the back. Blaise’s voice, and laughter after.

There was a big mammoth guy, and a shorter mammoth guy. There was a guy with a scar on his face. A lean guy with tattoos all over him was coming out of a room in the back. He had his arms crossed over his chest.

I heard the tattoo guy saying, “Only you, Matteo.” He laughed, and one of the mammoth guys grinned at him.

I turned, and despite all my hoping and wishing, there he was.

The guy who I knew owned the Hummer outside looked over. He saw me, kept going, then did a double take. He jerked forward. “Aspen?!”

Damn.

I heard Blaise in the background. “Who did he say?”

And I said, “Hi, Nate.”