Campus King | 18+

Chapter Ten

Tristan

The movie was bor-ing.

And whatever-her-name-was had "accidentally" brushed her hand against my dick three times in the last ten minutes. I gave no indication that I'd noticed. I just couldn't bring myself to return her interest.

I didn't know how much longer I could sit here. But I definitely knew this wasn't going to get me out of my slump. It might even make it worse.

"Hey," I finally said, trying to speak loud enough for her to hear me over the orchestral background noise from the movie, "Got anything to drink around here?"

She pulled her dark blue eyes off the screen to look at me. "Like wine? Or... vodka? We might even have some beer. I can check if you want?"

Jesus. Did this woman think I was a raging alcoholic?

"Uh, no. Just water... thanks."

"Oh. We have some bottles in the fridge. Do you want me to get you one?" She pulled the blankets off our legs, preparing to stand up.

I grabbed her wrist to stop her, gently pulling her back. "No worries, I'll get it. Just point me in the right direction."

She looked reluctant, like she was scared that I was gonna make a run for it. She'd never let me go if she actually knew what was going through my head. 

"I could come with, if you'd like? We could go somewhere more... private?" she said, eyes glinting with suggestion. Her fingers traced the veins on my forearm.

I pulled my arm away. "It's all good, you stay here. I don't want you to miss any of the movie. Just tell me where your kitchen is, and I'll be back in a second."

She frowned, obviously disappointed. "Are you sure?"

I swallowed my irritation. "Yes."

Thankfully, she made no further efforts to follow me, just gave me some simple directions. I got up from my seat, doing my best to navigate through the maze of my teammates' legs. Matthew shot me a curious look from where he was cozying up with the redhead. His raised eyebrow asked the question, "Dude, where the hell are you going?" I just pointed at the doorway, leaving him to come to his own conclusions.

I accidentally kicked the ankle of the small, plump blonde sitting by herself, and she squeaked. Like a mouse.

"My bad," I whispered before carrying on. Her wide eyes followed me the whole time, peeking over the edge of her blanket. 

Stepping out of the living room into a wide hallway, I took a second to exhale in relief now that I was out of that constricting environment. I briefly took note of the stairs that led to an upstairs hallway, and followed the dick-toucher's directions.

The kitchen was surprisingly spacious. Some cabinets were old and worn, and there was a mix of old-school and modern appliances scattered around. But the place was clean and tidy, which was a major plus in my mind.