Chapter 9 Spiked Up (1)
I've known Jenny since like forever. We shared simply everything about our lives together to the extent that because of our friendship, our parents got acquainted with each other.
Jenny got her first heartbreak while at prom. Fury had ran through my veins and I was forced to confront Terry. Terry blurted out that he'd been forced into a relationship with her which he didn't like. I had no choice but to comfort Jenny.
I knew how Jenny could be, haunting, rude, and spoilt to the core. Yeah, you know it. She was stinkingly wealthy with maids perched around her to serve her needs. I wanted to cling to the fact that Jenny and I were great friends, but time and again she had always proved to me that I was merely her tool.
We got into college and everything changed. Jenny got a new boyfriend and I knew I was in trouble. His name was Jeff Sanderson, a footballer who was skilled in American football and had great eyes for girls. It was obvious that Jeff was a Cassanova and the two love birds were always at each other's neck because of this.
Jenny and Jeff fought. I was forced to go pick up her books which she left in his home. No matter how hard I'd tried, Jenny hadn't cared to know what I was going through. I wiped off the fallen tears from my eyes when I arrived at Jeff's house and pressed the doorbell.
After the fourth ring, Jeff finally opened the door. Tall, build, dark eyes, and a chiseled strong chin. He was like the son of Zeus himself.
"Rihanna?" He called out in surprise, looking over me.
I swallowed, averting my gaze from his broad, masculine chest. Had he been making out? He was visibly shaken to see me.
"I'm not with Jenny." I tried a weak smile.
He sighed, "What brings you over here?" He asked as he allowed me entrance.
My eyes narrowly skated up to his room, and back at him. "I came to pick Jenny's books."
He rushed up and returned, jumping over the stairs like a pregnant kangaroo. Then he guffawed at his skills and stopped himself short when he noticed my eyes watching him.
"Rihanna, what's up? Are you alright?" He asked me.
"I'm alright." I kept a straight face but my tears betrayed me.
"You've been crying," he touched my arm, coming close to me.
"I'm alright." I lied, shaking my head while wiping what was left of my tears with the back of my hand.
"No, you're not. Tell me, who hurt you?" His voice had gone softer.
I looked up at him, fighting the waves of emotions. "Can I hug you, please?" I asked him.
Before he could answer, I rushed into his arms, letting the tears cascade down my cheeks. My arms encircled around him as I clung desperately to him.
Jeff must have been startled but he didn't mind anyway. He held me close, holding me firm to himself. I felt his breath fanning my face, I could smell his cologne mixed with sweat. Something was happening to me in that instant, my body was aware of a masculine presence.
And not just any masculine presence.
Jeffery Sanderson.
I should have pulled myself abruptly from his arms. I shouldn't have lingered a moment longer, or counted as the minutes faded. He didn't push me away either, he had his hands glued to my back, patting me.
When I had the boldness to stare up at his face, I suddenly regretted doing such. "Tell me, what's wrong?" He asked.
His voice was dominant, stern, and possessive in a subtle way. My stomach did a backflip as my eyes stumbled straight to his lips. Something in me stirred up to life.
"I lost Leah some minutes ago," I muttered. Leah was my pet cat from home, my mother had sent me a message revealing to me how Leah had succumbed to death.
"How? What had happened?" He seemed concerned.
"I think she has been poisoned," I replied.
"Didn't you tell Jennifer?" He questioned, raising a thick brow.
I scoffed. "She wouldn't even listen to what I had to say... I ....," I suddenly realized that I was in his arms. I strangled out of it and ignored my reddened face as I looked back at his face.
He seemed the least affected. His tongue flickered across his lips as his eyes sought mine.
"Jeff! When are you coming back up?" A girl's voice shrieked from his room. She walked out in a towel, her hair damped from water.
I looked up at the freckled face, then back at Jeff. He seemed nervous now. He scratched his head and smiled at me.
What have I been thinking? That a cassanova would change? "I think I should leave," I said quickly rushing to the door.
I shut the door behind me without waiting for his reply. Then my mind replayed what had just occurred between Jeff and I. Had he felt sincere empathy for me, or the look in his eyes had been something else?