Once finals week is over, we party. By party I mean anyone can come over and thanks to a series of useful fake IDs and everyone pitching in, we are well stocked enough to keep a house full of people intoxicated for nearly five days straight.

Jaye actually decides to join us on our endeavor which is nice. He doesn’t generally drink a lot and this is no exception, but he does cut loose.

“Beer pong?” I ask him.

It’s my game. I’m not good at much, but it’s where I soar.

“Only if we’re partners.”

God, would I ever love to be his partner.

Art walks through the crowd towards us.

I call out to him. “Hey, Art. How about a game?”

“Not a chance. I have too much respect for my liver. Let me find you guys some unsuspecting victims to terrorize.”

He comes back about three minutes later with a pair of ladies. I know one of them well enough. She shows up at our parties, gets totally smashed, and we end up in the sack. It’s happened twice now. I guess we may be setting up for a third. It’s been about five months so I guess it’s about time.

“Hi, Chelsea.”

“Hi, Kris. Who’s your friend?” She’s looking towards my beer pong partner. Of course she is, because Jaye is the hottest guy to ever exist. He radiates sexy like a male Aphrodite. He has such a sensual, deep voice. Alright, to be fair Ian, one of our other roommates, is visually the sexiest man alive, but I’m biased as hell when it comes to Jaye.

Jaye gives her the gayest response he can probably fashion. “Oh, my goodness, I love that Escher pattern skirt. I need it on a vest.”

It’s over the top, but he did it to spare any potential embarrassment on her part of accidently hitting on him.

“Oh, thanks. Five Points. That new little boutique with the…”

I tune that shit out.

Her friend steps up to me. “So, you’re Kris?”

“Yes.”

She twirls a bit of hair around her finger. “Aren’t you going to ask my name?”

I answer dryly. “Right. What’s your name?”

“I’m Candi with an ‘I’.”

“Yummy.” My response is in no way sexual. She’s cute and all but I really couldn’t care less for her attempt at sex appeal. I’m not looking for sweet and tasty. I only go for an easy lay that’s going to get out of my bed in the morning, ideally without saying a word to me. It’s a tit for tat because I’m not boyfriend material.

“Haha. You’re funny. So, what are you studying?”

“Physics of beer pong. Do you guys want to play?” I don’t care to get into the details of our lives or personalities. I don’t give a damn what she’s studying and fake conversation where I’m expected to listen and respond is not what I’m in the mood for.

Chelsea replies for the pair of them, seemingly finished with her full detail of the clothing available at the Athens shopping hub.

“Sure. Let’s do it.” Chelsea already knows they’re going to lose, but she’s here for the alcohol and fun, so it’s not going to hurt her pride.

Jaye sets the rules for the table because who could argue with him? He’s six feet one and has the face of an innocent adolescent which is severely misleading.

“Ladies first.” He’s such a gentleman.

Candi with an ‘I’ steps up and puts on that overly young act that most guys like. “So, I just throw it and try to make it in one of the cups?”

Chelsea winks at me from across the table. Now that she’s discovered Jaye is off the market, I must be visible again. I don’t blame her; I wouldn’t look at me if Jaye were an option either.

I smile back at her because I know the type of person she is. Even if it takes a small amount of flirting, she’ll wake up in the morning, get dressed, and head out with no more than two sentences. She’s stolen a sweatshirt once, but in fairness she couldn’t find her clothes and even I’m not enough of a dick to think she should leave naked.

If I had asked for it back then it would have opened the conversation about us sleeping together and that’s not a can of worms you can open and then close back up. Nope. It’s worth a sweatshirt to not have that conversation.

The boyfriend seeking girl bounces a ball off the table that disappears into a crowd of dancers over near the stereo. That’ll end up crushed or lost. We go through ping pong balls like we do bread in this place.

I wave for Jaye to start off for our team. Honestly, I just want to see his ass shake when he leans across the table to take aim. Damn, he’s got a nice body. I wonder if that table could hold us if I bent him over it? I doubt it.

Looking away, I make light of my looking at him at all. “You shake your ass like a girl trying to line up the ball.”

He intentionally gives it a wobble. “Oh, do I?”

I laugh at him and the girls join in too. I love it. “You do.”

Chelsea grins. “It’s cute. Don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

Jaye grins at me but speaks to her. “Thank you, Chelsea. I like to think I’m rockin’ it.”

Candi agrees with a high pitched, overly sweet tone. “You totally are.” She’s either dumb as a rock or been living under one. I bet there’s a church group missing their representative somewhere. How did she get invited to this?

Jaye’s shot is nearly as bad as Candi’s.

Chelsea is more seasoned, so she hits the cups but the ball doesn’t go in.

My first shot bounces into one of the cups. Chelsea takes the drink and Jaye hip bumps me. “Good job, Kris!”

Good job, Kris … no one compliments me. Jaye is the only one.

Is that why I love him? Am I so pitiful that I fall for the one guy that’s remotely nice to me? No, it’s Jaye. It’s a culmination of everything that he is.

I wish he didn’t have to be so close yet so distant from me.

His bump into me leaves me with a bit of his scent. This time, it’s entirely him. I revel in the sweet enjoyment of his aroma. The sweetness engulfs me. It comes from his body wash. I keep a small bottle of it in my nightstand. It’s not quite the same, but it’s as close to the real thing as I allow myself to enjoy. It’s not like I can be caught sniffing the guy. That’s generally frowned upon in civilized society; the sniffing of roommates.

I turn my attentions to Chelsea to get him off my mind. The last thing I need is to accidently drop one too many hints.

We play several rounds over the course of the next few hours because the girls continue to think a rematch might be successful. It keeps Jaye hanging around the area which I love. I’m also thrilled that he isn’t texting that Thad guy all night. Since finals, I don’t know that they have seen one another. Jaye said something about Thad attending a class reunion.

Class reunions don’t generally happen until it’s been at least ten years. Does Jaye not see how fucked up that is? That guy has been graduated for ten years and we’re only about to enter our third year of college. If that doesn’t steer him off from Thad’s age then nothing will.

Quite unexpectedly, Jaye parties into the late-night hours. When Chelsea makes an advance to me that indicates she’s ready to take it upstairs, I debate staying down with Jaye. I love being around him.

He grabs my shoulder. “Go get ‘em tiger!” The slap to my ass is enough to stir me to motion.

Once alone together in my bedroom, Chelsea removes her panties and delves her tongue in my mouth. She has a great body and mine responds well to her quiet moans.

She grabs my hand and brings it to her mouth, sucking two of my fingers across her tongue. Fuck, that’s sexy. It induces my brain to elicit obvious images of her sucking my dick in the same way, or in the least will lead to more entertaining things.

When she’s coated them in her mouth’s moistness, she withdraws and forces my hand beneath her skirt.

She’s so fucking wet. It makes me hard as a rock. I lead with the two commanded fingers, pumping her for the obvious pleasure she’s after. Her eyes start to droop a little. No. Dammit. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.

I back her to the bed and lean over her, my mouth on her neck. I whisper, “give me consent.”

I’m fucked up six ways from Sunday, but the one decent thing Max has always adhered to was the one thing I’ve made part of my own sexual arsenal; consent before cock entry. If she isn’t sober enough to consent every time then it’s off limits, plain and simple.

Chelsea kind of grumble moans as she sinks further into my bed.

“Fuck.”

I’m still knuckles deep and turn to beating off because this isn’t going to end the way I had planned. She’s half into it and half slipping away to the nothingness of a drunken stupor. Why does her body have to invite me so wonderfully as she’s conking out?

It’s wicked, but I come to the idea of what I’d like to do with her while pumping my fingers into her barely alert body. I finish even before she stops moaning for me. When I’m done, she’s still grunting for more which I won’t offer.

Dammit. Just go to sleep, Chelsea.

Within seconds, she drifts into unconsciousness.

She’s lucky I’m messed up only to an extent. I won’t touch her now that she’s out. Well, I do lift her legs onto the bed. She can’t sleep comfortably like that.

After I clean up, I crawl into bed next to her. Nothing about her makes me want to watch her sleep. I don’t want to analyze her and see what silly little things are uniquely her like I do with Jaye. If she were Jaye then I wouldn’t be able to sleep. As it is, she isn’t Jaye and I have no reason not to simply pass out beside her.