I sucked in a deep breath and grabbed her wrist. She gasped, stopping her movement.

  "Betsy. Stop. You don't have to do this."

  "Do what? Give you a thank you for last night?" She smiled coyly.

  I shook my head. "You don't have to thank me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and maybe it was stupid to bring you back up in my room, but I was really fucking tired and ready to sleep."

  She pushed against my hands. "Don't you want me, Short Stack? Haven't you always wanted me?"

  I licked my lips and swallowed hard. Damn, this was harder than I thought it would be. "I do. But not like this. I'm not just going to let you play with my dick because you think you owe me something. We're both better than that."

  She huffed and didn't say anything. Just narrowed her eyes and glared at me.

  "Betsy," I pleaded. "You have to know that you don't need to do this. I like you without you having to throw yourself at me."

  She pulled free of my wrists. "Fine. I get it. You think I'm hideous with these stitches, or you're afraid Rico is going to beat your ass. Whatever it is, I don't need you! Do you hear me? I don't need you!"

  Her words may have been sharp, but she was anything but. Her whole body shook as she got off the bed. I didn't notice she was crying until she sniffled and turned toward me, wiping the fallen tears off her cheek. "I'll just go downstairs and hope Rico isn't too pissed at me to give me a ride home."

  "Wait!" I grabbed her wrist. "Betsy. Please, stop. I don't know what's going on with this hot and cold thing you're doing, but you need to relax. Talk to me. Something. Anything."

  Slowly, I reached my free hand to her face and wiped a freshly fallen tear. "Please."

  She shook her head. "There's nothing to say. We had nothing to say to each other last night and I think you've said enough this morning."

  She hopped off the bed, keeping her back to me and threw open the door.

  "Betsy, wait!"

  I jumped off the bed and adjusted myself. I may have said "no" to her, but my massive wood was definitely saying something else. I didn't bother throwing on a shirt or shoes when I followed her down the stairs, but she was quicker and already out the door before I could follow her.

  I raked my fingers through my hair and stood in the open doorway, blowing out a deep breath of air. "Shit."

  "Damn, Short Stack, what did you do to make a girl run screaming from your room?" I turned around to see Meatball, with a broom in one hand and a donut in the other.

  I shook my head and shut the door. "Nothing and that's the problem."

  "Okay..." Meatball raised an eyebrow.

  "Have you seen John Boy?"

  Meatball nodded and hitched his thumb toward the kitchen. "Yeah. He's the one who got the donuts. I think he's still in the kitchen talking to Cali."

  I patted his back. "Thanks, man."

  I didn't wait for a response before I headed toward the back of the house. Just as Meatball said, John Boy was standing in the kitchen, talking to Cali while he sat on the granite island. The house may have been made for parties, but that didn't mean our cook didn't get an amazing kitchen with all stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, and marble floors. The first time my mom saw the place, I think she wanted to just sleep in the kitchen and wake up every morning to make Arepas.

  "Hey, Short Stack!" John raised his arms with a big smile.

  I nodded. "Hey, man."

  Cali hopped off the counter and turned toward me. "Man, you look like hell."

  "Yeah. I feel like it, "I muttered.

  John pushed one of the donut boxes toward me. "Need breakfast?"

  I shook my head. "No, man, I'm good."

  Cali patted my back and then grabbed a donut, walking backwards. "I think I'm going to leave you two alone for some brotherly love."

  He took a bite of his donut and then continued backwards out of the room.

  John leaned his back on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, are you going to tell me what happened last night? Or maybe this morning, when Betsy ran out of your room crying?"

  I shook my head and leaned on the counter. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

  He picked a donut out of the box and ate one of the sprinkles. "Was the sex with you really that bad?"

  I groaned. "We didn't have sex. We didn't do anything. That's what she was pissed about. I don't know how a girl could think their self worth is wrapped up in if they can get a guy off or not."

  He picked off another sprinkle. I don't know why he didn't just eat the whole damn thing. "Not all girls. Just the ones that seem to hang around here."

  I sighed. "It probably doesn't help that she's been hanging out with assholes like Rico forever."

  "Hey, Rico isn't an asshole. He just has some issues."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Issues? Like that he treats women like shit and all these girls still seem to clamor for him? What the fuck is up with that? Why do girls always like the assholes?"

  He finally set the donut down. "Not all girls."

  I rolled my eyes. "Right. You find the one girl that walked into this house who wasn't looking for an asshole, so you married her."

  John laughed. "Melanie was looking for an asshole, but she just wanted a one night stand and I wasn't about to give that to her. She wasn't really the type of girl that would go through with it anyway, but that's another story."

  "Yeah and that story doesn't help me at all."

  He sighed. "Look, Short Stack, I know you've never exactly been really good at talking to girls, or hell, getting them to stay around, but if you really like Betsy, and she really likes you then it's going to work out."

  "That doesn't help me at all."

  He laughed. "I don't think it was supposed to. It's way too early for this philosophical shit and because you were out and brought a girl back, I had to sleep on Cali's floor and I feel like hell."

  "Sorry about that."

  He shook his head. "Nothing to be sorry about. I would have done the same thing. You're a good guy, Short Stack. You know that just as well as I do. If a girl can't see that, or anyone else for that matter, then they aren't worth your time."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to dad me right now?"

  He laughed. "I may be an old fucker, but I'm sure as shit not being your old Jew Dad. No offense. Just trying to be a good friend and big brother."

  I nodded. "Thanks, John Boy. I appreciate it."

  He opened his mouth like he was going to say something and then shut it again before squeezing my shoulder. "I'm going to head out, okay? I could use a shower and something that hasn't been puked in and I'm sure my wife is waiting for me."

  I wanted to ask him if he had more to say. I knew there had to be something, but I wasn't about to push. That, and I was about to go back and pass out for a few hours and then drown myself in coffee. "Okay, John Boy, go home to your wife."

  He smiled. "Take care, little brother."

  With that, he threw the rest of his donut in the trash and was out the door, leaving me with more questions than I had answers for. Girls were a big fucking conundrum.

  Chapter 7

  I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do about Betsy.

  I wanted to just show up at her house and try to tell her that I didn't mean anything that I said and if she wanted to fuck me senseless, I'd let her.

  But I wasn't that type of guy and I knew it.

  I was in a piss poor mood the rest of the day and avoided Rico as much as I could. It was a good thing that he stayed the hell away from me as well. I didn't know what I'd say to him.

  Actually, I did.

  I'd probably say nothing. I'd probably just keep ignoring him or just shrug it off my shoulders, because that's what I did. I was the constant good guy. The one who always tried to avoid a fight.

  I woke up the next morning and showered, wishing I could somehow wash away everything. Not just the grime that never seemed to leave the house, but the fucked up situation I seemed to find myself in.

  As I got out of the shower and got dressed, it dawned on me that I really would be out of here in a few months. Maybe, then, I could start new. Maybe, then I wouldn't be Short Stack. Maybe I'd be something different. Until then, I didn't need to worry about a girl and whatever the hell effect she had on me. It was time to live up what little time left I had in school and not let the world bother me.

  ***

  It sounded cheesy as hell, but I actually enjoyed going to class. I was a Mass Communications major and, unlike most of my friends, already had a job lined up working for a TV station in the Chicago suburbs after graduation. I could have just coasted through classes, but there was something I really enjoyed about hanging out with a bunch of people with similar interests and talking about something I actually knew a hell of a lot about.

  My Broadcast Management class was across the quad from where my house was. I didn't mind the long walk, especially since the never-ending Illinois winter was finally over and I could actually enjoy the sunshine.

  I expected to just walk through the quad and get to my building. What I didn't expect was to see Betsy.

  Usually she was vibrant when I saw her. Bubbly and full of life. But not today.

  Her head was down and her hair covering most of the side of her face. Instead of any bit of revealing clothing, she was in a plain, pink t-shirt and yoga pants. I thought maybe I was overreacting and she was just going to the gym.

  Or, maybe, I'd really hurt the girl's feelings.

  "Hey, Betsy." I did a little wave as I approached her.

  "Hey, Short Stack," she mumbled.

  She didn't stop walking. She just kept going, with her head down.

  I should have left her alone. I should have just minded my own business and headed to class, like I planned, but something else pulled me back in her direction.

  "Hey, Betsy!" I turned around and jogged to catch up, until I was right beside her.

  "Yeah?" She barely even looked at me.

  "Uh..." I rubbed the back of my neck. I didn't think of what I was actually going to say when I walked back up to her.

  "How about those Sox? They have a game tonight."

  She arched an eyebrow. "I'm not really into baseball."

  "Oh. Yeah. I guess I should have asked that."

  Damn, I sucked talking to girls. I never knew what to say, or what to do with my hands, so I just found myself blabbering and raking my fingers through my hair, until all the gel was out of it and it turned into a huge afro.

  Betsy finally stopped and let out a deep sigh before she looked up at me. The whole side of her face was swollen and her lip and nose were different shades of blue and purple. It looked like she tried to cover it up with some make-up, but it just sat on top of the bruises.

  "Look, Short Stack, you're a nice guy. Almost too nice. I'm not the type of girl that you want to hang around with. I'm not the type of girl that goes for nice guys and I'll just end up ruining you."

  I took a step closer and shook my head. "You're not going to ruin me. You aren't going to ruin anything and the fact that you think that about yourself is heartbreaking."

  "I don't think that. I know it. It's always been this way. I'm the girl that guys call for a good time, not to take home to their parents for Christmas. I'm okay with it. If I have to deal with guys like Rico, I do it. He knows our relationship and what it is and what it isn't. He doesn't expect some perfect girl from me and I don't expect him to be some great guy. It's just how it is."

  I opened my mouth and then closed it. I didn't know what to say. How the hell was I supposed to have a comeback for that? This beautiful, sweet girl was just okay with being treated like shit?

  She smirked. "See you around, Short Stack."

  She turned to keep walking, but I grabbed her hand. I didn't know what I was going to say, Hell I didn't have anything to say, so I did the only thing I could think to do.

  Slowly, I pulled her toward me and put my hand on her cheek, running my thumb along her bottom lip. Her eyes slowly closed as I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers, sealing what words couldn't.

  All those years of waiting and wishing, I had her and in that moment I could forget the world and get lost in her lips.

  But as quickly as the kiss started, she broke it, placing her hand on my chest and pulling back. She bit down on her lip before shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  Before I could get a word in, she'd turned on her heels and ran in the other direction, leaving me standing there, speechless, and really late for class.

  Chapter 8

  I went the whole week without running into Betsy again. I usually saw her a few times, at least in passing, but she must have gone a different route.

  Was I being a stalker? Was this what it was like to be obsessed with someone?

  No. That wasn't it. I couldn't say what was pulling me toward her. Something. Maybe it was my hero complex getting to me again.

  But that didn't stop me from letting my fingers hover over her name in my contacts, until I finally got the balls to text her.

  It was after a few drinks on Thirsty Thursday and I was sitting on the couch in the Common Room. Thursdays were usually pretty laid back around the house and most of the older guys went out to the bars, but I wasn't into that scene.

  I stared down at my phone. I needed to stop being a pussy and just text her.

  Finally I downed the rest of my drink and then hit the "send message" button.

  Me: Hey

  Her reply was quick. Quicker than I thought.

  Betsy: Hey, are you here????

  I glanced around the room. There were a few people milling about the Common Room, some playing Madden, and another group in the kitchen. But I hadn't seen Betsy come in.

  Me: Where?

  Betsy: Gatsby's. Thought that's why you were texting me???

  I hovered over the keys, thinking of my reply. But instead of messaging her back, I slid my phone into my pocket then tapped the new member next to me. "Hey, Marc, you still driving some guys downtown?"

  ***

  Gatsby's was one of the main hangouts that the guys went to downtown. It was a dance club, with an entry-level that had a long bar against one wall and then a winding staircase that led to a sunken dance floor.

  I leaned against the railing, scanning the crowd. I'd only been to Gatsby's a few times, usually after pre-gaming. When I was half-lit, it seemed colorful and lively, but sober, it was just a bunch of sweaty bodies grinding on each other in too small of a space.

  But, amongst all the bodies, Betsy's was like a beacon that drew me to her. Her blonde hair fell in long waves down her back and every time she moved, it flowed with her body. And her little purple dress, made her stand out from the sea of other girls, in their black or dark clothes. Everything about her was stunning.

  So was her smile. Until a dark figure sidled up beside her.

  Rico's eyes blared into the back of her head, before his hands slithered up to her chest.

  Her eyes practically popped out of her head and her mouth opened in a look that could only be described as fear. But, as quickly as it appeared on her face it left, when she turned toward him, whipping her long hair back and putting a smile.

  I didn't realize I was clenching my hands into such tight fists, until I looked down at my white knuckles. There was definitely something wrong there and I couldn't ignore it.

  I started down the stairs, keeping my eyes on Betsy. But, the closer I got to her, the farther away she moved. Rico was pulling her in the opposite direction. His hand firmly clamped on her wrist, while she shuffled backward.

  I pushed through the crowd, spilling a few drinks, and getting a ton of dirty looks in the process, but I didn't care. I had to get to her.

  It wasn't until I crossed almost the whole dance floor, that I finally got to her and Rico and heard their shouting from the corner of the room. His hand was still firmly gripped on her wrist and her eyes were watering.

  "Rico, let go of me, please."

  "I think it's time to go, Bets. You've had enough to drink." His voice was low, but menacing, as if he was speaking through gritted teeth.

  "I'm fine. Just one more dance, then we'll go back to the house?"

  "No," he said, before I heard a soft whimper escape Betsy's lips, just loud enough to make every hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

  I pushed through the last of the crowd and didn't stop until I was in Rico's face. "Hey, man, what's going on?"

  I put on the biggest, fakest smile I could and stood right in between him and Betsy. Rico had a few inches on me, probably more with his stupid-ass blown out hair. But I wasn't going to back down from him this time. Not when Betsy already had one injury from him.

  "What up, Short Stack? Trying to get Betsy in your car again?" He smirked. Always the smug prick.

  I laughed, but there was no humor to it. "Yeah, I'm hoping I don't have to take her to the ER again, that is, if you take your hands off of her."

  I had no idea where my courage was coming from. It was a fight or flight situation and I was already too far in to back out.

  The music was so loud, that Rico had to lean in. But his voice was still strong. Still menacing. "Look, Short Stack, I know you're trying to get some pussy right now and act like you're tough shit, but this really doesn't concern you."

  "It concerned me the minute you first threw her out and then when I was the one that had to take her to the ER."

  He looked over my shoulder then smirked and looked back at me. "If I'm so bad, then why ain't she leaving?"

  I took a step closer, clenching and unclenching my fists. The only fights I'd ever been in were with my brothers and cousins. I always lost. But if I was going to lose, I at least wasn't going to go down without a fight.

  "She's not leaving because you have some kind of control of her. She thinks that you're some kind of be-all-end-all. Probably, because you've brainwashed her and treated her like shit for so long, that she thinks she is shit, but she isn't. You're the filth that doesn't deserve her."