Not You

Chapter 1 - The Before

The loud, chaotic roar of a Friday night frat party echoed across the backyard, spilling over the lawn and up toward the rooftop. A circle of rowdy college students cheered around an inflatable mud pit, where two women in skimpy swimwear grappled and slid across the slick vinyl. The wet, rhythmic smack of skin against skin was nearly drowned out by the shouting and the crinkle of cash changing hands as bets were traded.

Jake stood at the edge of the circle, a half-empty beer in hand, yelling and laughing along with the rest of the guys. Next to him, Sean, his best friend, looked utterly unimpressed, leaning back and taking slow, measured swigs from his longneck bottle.

In the pit, one of the girls hooked a hand behind her opponent’s neck, yanking her down face-first into the slop. She threw her hands up and strutted the rim of the pool to rile up the cheering crowd. But as her back turned, the girl in the mud surged up, hooked a finger into the string of her opponent’s bikini top, and yanked with abandon. The fabric snapped loose, her breasts bounced free, and the crowd erupted in whistles and cheers.

Jake grabbed Sean around the back of the neck in excitement, accidentally knocking his friend’s bottle and spilling foam down the front of him. “Holy shit, did you see that?”

Sean shoved a palm directly into Jake’s face, cursing loudly. Jake just barked out a laugh, letting go and wiping the beer foam on his jeans.

Before the woman could fix her top, her opponent tackled her around the legs, sending them both splashing down into the mud to seal the victory. The match was over and the circle started breaking up, but one overly drunk spectator stumbled straight into the pool, grabbing the winner and grinding himself against her hips.

“Get the fuck off me, asshole!” she yelled, trying to shove him away, but her mud-slicked hands couldn’t find purchase.

Instead of stepping in, several guys pulled out their phones to record, cheering him on.

“Get after it, Don!”

Jake’s easy grin vanished. He shoved his way through the front row, ignoring Sean’s exasperated eye roll as he trailed after him. Jake stomped directly into the muddy pool, snatched the guy by the collar of his polo, and yanked him backward with enough force to lift his heels off the plastic.

“Get the fuck off her, you prick.”

Sean stepped up to the edge of the pool and offered a hand to the girls, helping them climb out. They took it with shaky, grateful laughs. The drunk guy was at least six inches shorter than Jake, but alcohol had clearly given him delusions of grandeur. He threw a wild, sloppy right hook. Jake slipped it effortlessly and came back with a clean, hard punch to the jaw. The guy went down into the pit like a sack of wet flour, sending a massive wave of mud splashing out of the pool—and coating Sean from the waist down.

The smaller crowd cheered, but Sean’s face twisted. “Goddammit, Jake! Can you play hero without ruining my fucking clothes?”

Jake didn’t even look back; he grabbed the guy by his belt and shirt, hauling him out of the pit and dumping him onto the grass like a bag of garbage. He threw his arms up in victory, hamming it up.

Sean sneered at the crowd, “Fickle bitches.”

“Thank you!” the blonde girl called out to Jake, clutching her top.

“Don’t worry about it—guy was a fucking creep,” Jake called back, breathless and beaming. His face was streaked with brown sludge, his grin bright and cocky against the mess.

When Jake turned around, his eyes landed on Sean standing there covered in splatters, looking ready to commit murder. Jake’s grin widened wickedly. He crouched down and scooped up a massive handful of mud.

Sean’s dark eyes went wide. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

Splat.

The mud caught Sean square across the cheek.

Sean wiped it away with the back of his forearm, dropped his beer onto the grass, and charged. He tackled Jake waist-high, sending them both crashing down into the inflatable pool with a heavy, wet thud.

Jake roared with laughter, scrambling to heave Sean off, but Sean snagged him by the collar, smirking as he hooked a arm around Jake’s neck and dragged him down into the sludge. Jake’s hand shot out blindly, gripping the hem of Sean’s shirt and pulling him down too. They rolled and wrestled in the slick muck, neither letting up.

“Your such a fucking menace!” Jake yelled, locking his thick arms around Sean’s shoulders.

Sean threw his head back in a desperate buck, his forehead cracking right into Jake’s nose. Jake let out a muffled groan as warm blood joined the taste of dirt in his mouth.

Sean lunged, grabbing Jake by a fistful of brown hair to pin him down, but Jake’s head abruptly jerked back with a sharp wince.

“Ah, fuck—Sean, stop! Stop, man!”

Sean froze. His stainless-steel watch band was completely tangled in the thick strands at the crown of Jake’s head. When Sean tried to pull his hand free, his foot slipped on the slick vinyl, and he tumbled forward, landing dead-center on top of Jake’s chest with his wrist caught awkwardly between them.

“Aw, fight’s over,” someone in the dispersing crowd called out.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Jake groaned, his head pinned against the squeaking edge of the inflatable ring.

“Shut up and hold still,” Sean hissed.

He was straddling Jake’s hips, propping himself up on one elbow while picking at the knotted hair with his free hand.

“Of all the moronic, idiotic shit...” Sean grumbled under his breath.

Jake just chuckled, his chest rising and falling beneath Sean’s weight. “Come on, that was fun. Let me loose and we’ll go round two.”

Sean gave an accidental yank on the watch, earning another hiss of pain from Jake.

“This shirt was brand new, you bastard.”

Jake’s hands had instinctively settled on Sean’s hips to keep him steady. Sometime during the tussle, Sean’s shirt had ridden up to his ribs, exposing a lean, pale stomach smeared with wet streaks of mud.

Without thinking, Jake let one of his large hands slide slowly across Sean’s bare belly, his thumb brushing over the taut ridge of muscle. The pale warmth of Sean’s skin stood out starkly against the grime.

Sean paused, glancing down. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jake blinked, realizing he didn’t have a reasonable answer. His gaze drifted up his friend’s body—the spread thighs bracketing his waist, the damp skin, the wet black bangs plastered against Sean’s temples, framing his mouth. Jake swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

“Shit, Sean... you should really do porn. I bet you’d make a killing.”

Color instantly rushed into Sean’s neck and cheeks. “What have I told you about saying weird shit like that?” He gave another vicious tug on the tangled watch.

“Ow! Jesus, gently!”

“He’s not wrong, you know.”

A girl’s voice spoke up from just behind Jake’s head. Startled, Jake quickly tugged the hem of Sean’s shirt back down over his stomach.“Can I help?” she asked, crouching by the rim of the pool. “It’s the least I can do after you handled that drunk guy for me.”

Sean glanced over at her, his brow furrowing. “How are you already clean?”

“There’s a garden hose on the side of the house,” she said with a laugh. “I rinsed off. I can show you guys in a second.”

She reached in, her fingers gently working at the snagged hair where Sean’s watch was caught. Sean exhaled, looking down at Jake.

“Jake...”

Jake frowned in mild confusion, looking between the girl and Sean. Sean’s dark eyes were locked on him, his face still flushed a faint, irritated pink.

God, he really is prettier than half the girls here sometimes, Jake thought before he could stop himself.

“...Let go,” Sean muttered.

Jake realized that in the chaos of untangling, his hands had slid around Sean’s waist and were now gripping the firm curve of Sean’s ass beneath his wet jeans.

Jake instantly pulled his hands back, clearing his throat with an awkward laugh. “Sorry. Muscle memory.”

Sean narrowed his eyes in a deep, unimpressed scowl.

“There, that should do it,” Rochelle announced.

With a soft click, the metal links slipped free of Jake’s hair. Sean immediately rolled off

and scrambled to his feet, slipping twice on the muddy bottom before climbing out of the pool onto solid grass. Jake followed, shaking out his limbs and offering the girl a broad, boyish grin.

“Thanks for returning the favor!”

Now that she was clean, Jake got a good look at her. She was petite, toned, and wearing a tiny bikini—the one girl from the show who had managed to keep her top on.

“Least I could do,” she smiled, gesturing toward her own face. “By the way... your nose is bleeding.”

Jake touched the back of his hand to his nostrils, coming away with a smear of red. He glared playfully at Sean. “Did you really have to headbutt me, asshole?”

Sean, who was violently slinging mud off his forearms, shot him a murderous look. “Are you seriously asking me that right now after you threw the first handful?” The girl laughed, amused by the pair of them. “You two are completely wild. Come on, follow me—I’ll show you where the hose is.”

They trailed behind her across the lawn. Jake grabbed the hem of his shirt and popped the fabric, sending flecks of mud flying straight at Sean.

“Do you want to die tonight?” Sean snapped, dodging.

Jake just grinned.

On the side of the house, Sean snatched the green garden hose first and turned the brass nozzle, blasting a freezing jet of water directly into Jake’s face. Jake sputtered, turning and twisting his broad torso under the stream as he washed the mud and blood from his chest, shoulders, and hair.

“I’m Rochelle, by the way,” she said, stepping into Sean’s peripheral vision.

Sean ignored her, keeping the high-pressure stream aimed steadily at Jake’s ribs like he was washing down a prize steer.

Rochelle held a couple of cold beers in her hands, looking mildly put off by Sean’s total lack of interest.

Jake finished wringing his soaked shirt out, wiping his face with the cleaner half before slinging it over his bare shoulder. “I’m Jake. That’s Sean.” He took one of the beers she offered, popping the tab with his thumb. “Thanks.” He grabbed the other bottle popped the lid on it too on it and gave Sean the one he had already drank out of with a wink.

Sean took it and dumped it on his head.

“Oops”

Jake smacked the bottle from his hand “Brat.”

Sean stared hard at his exposed torso. “Put your fucking shirt on, whore.”

He walked the few feet to get hosed off, Jake obliged while talking to the Rochelle.

“I’m a sophomore,” she offered, leaning in with an inviting smile.

“Nice. We’re juniors...”

Jake kept the conversation going easily, but Sean could feel Rochelle’s sharp blue eyes darting toward him every few seconds, attempting to draw him in. Sean took a step to the side, shaking out his dense strands. Sensing her shift in attention Jake smoothly stepped into the space between them, using his broad shoulders and natural charm to steer Rochelle’s attention entirely back onto himself.

Within a couple of minutes, Rochelle was laughing at one of Jake’s jokes, punching her number into Jake's phone, and promising to text him before walking back toward the party.

Sean let out a quiet breath of relief as she disappeared around the corner. “You’ve really got a thing for dumb blondes lately.”

Jake thumbed the delete button until Rochelle's contact disappeared entirely.

“Hey, she was cute,” Jake chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “A little obvious, maybe, but at least that saves everybody time.”

Sean looked at him, wringing out the bottom of his shirt. “Want to just go play Call of Duty?”

Jake flashed a wide, easy grin. “Hell yes!”