Boys and Girls, Part IV: Why I Love to Hate You

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you sooo much for your awesome reviews. If you keep them coming, I'll keep these chapters coming too!

Chapter 5 – Foolish Games

Okay, so it had been a pretty mean thing to say – particularly because it hadn’t been true. However, Jacy was relieved to had rid herself of Tristan and his minty fresh breath. He had almost made Jacy cave into his demands with that delicious kiss of his that had almost topped the first one, but she was a strong female, determined to put Tristan Carter in his place.

Jacy was already on a bus to her apartment. She was pretty partied out, but Ewan had begged to stay at the party. After he had promised to call if he should find himself in any sort of trouble, Jacy finally allowed Ewan to extend his fun stay at Spankman’s.

Jacy leaned her head against the bus window and sighed. A guy like Ewan would be the perfect boyfriend for her, except a guy like Ewan was definitely gay. If Ewan were straight, he’d be like every other asshole this world over…an asshole like Tristan Carter. Talk about Catch-22.

Jacy wasn’t stupid. Obviously, her mini transformation had stunned Tristan enough so that he had been unable to keep his hands off of her, but that didn’t mean it was okay. She hated Tristan for everything he had put her through, and she was fairly certain that she would continue to hate Tristan regardless of how his feelings toward her might have changed.

Her thoughts continually drifted back to that kiss though. Tristan was demanding in every aspect of his life, so why should Jacy have been surprised that he was such an aggressive kisser? His kisses were hard and forceful, and Jacy knew that consequently she should dislike them because they demeaned and degraded women. But if she hadn’t forced an end to their lip-lock session with her commentary/lie, Jacy was fairly certain that she would have melted into a puddle right at Tristan Carter’s feet.

That was precisely the reason that Jacy needed to focus and do everything in her power to keep distance between Tristan and herself. As good as kissing Tristan had felt, Jacy knew that the only way to emerge from their weird relationship as the victor would be ensure that they would meet as little as possible…if at all.

****

Tristan slammed the bathroom door shut and leaned back against it. He uttered a deep sigh before walking over to the sink and washing his hands.

Two gorgeous tanned, fit, willing females…

And he couldn’t get his goddamn dick up.

Tristan was confused beyond measure, but he knew one thing for sure. If Jacy Hewitt was responsible for this – even inadvertently – he was going to kill her.

The most Tristan had been able to do was to watch the blonde and redhead make out, feel each other up, and eventually eat one another out while he pumped his own limp cock. No matter how fast or roughly he stroked himself, he could not get into the mood of things. It was a golden opportunity that had been heinously squandered due to a problem that Tristan had never imagined he could suffer from.

Tristan wiped his hands on the one clean towel in Spankman’s second-story bathroom. He was going to head home and silently cry at the fact that he couldn’t even get turned on by two gorgeous women going at it like professional porn stars.

“Fuck yes!”

Tristan’s head jerked back at the sound of an excited male voice to the door behind him – not the one he had entered through but another one that was situated directly opposite the bathroom mirror. The door had been left open a crack. Son-of-a-bitch! If Tristan wasn’t going to get any tonight, he certainly didn’t want to hear another guy who was getting some at that very moment.

Tristan angrily stomped back over to the door he hand entered through.

“Bloody hell! Fuck me!”

Tristan whipped around. That was definitely another man’s voice, and it was definitely…British. No…it couldn’t be…could it? He shut the bathroom light off and silently crept to the other door. He locked the door he had entered through behind him, so that no one could see him do what he was about to do. Tristan wasn’t even sure he was up to this himself, but he was curious as hell.

He crept to the door and peeked one eye through the thin sliver of light. The room was mostly dark except for the moonlight that shone through one of the windows. The silhouettes of two males were visible. A tall, but pretty skinny, guy was bent over the bed. A much larger man stood behind him, thrusting a very hard cock into the other’s ass. Tristan closed his eyes to block out the disturbing visual. The sounds of male grunting were still very audible. Tristan was tempted to plug his ears as well, but considering the volume that these two were operating at…it wouldn’t do much good.

“Fuck my ass!” a distinct British accent shouted out.

Tristan winced. Goddamn! He did not want to hear this.

“Yeah…you like that?” a deep American voice growled.

“Fuck yes!” the British voice answered.

“You like it when I ram by big bad American cock into your asshole?”

“Yes, yes!” the softer British voice answered.

“You gonna suck my cock right before I come?”

“God yes!”

“You wanna eat some of this, bitch?”

Motherfucker! Tristan’s eyes finally opened. He was almost entirely certain that Jacy’s “beau” was in there, but until that last comment, Tristan hadn’t known who the other guy was. Now he knew.

Eric Mortimer was a cornerback on the Hawks football team. Because Mortimer’s job was to cover the wide receiver, Tristan had spent a lot of time practicing with the son-of-a-bitch…enough to know that the cornerback’s favorite expression was “You wanna eat some of this, bitch?” It was ridiculous for a white Cali boy to say something like that, but Tristan had usually ignored the idiot anyway. Eric was always boasting about his latest lay – all female – so Tristan was certain that nobody else on the football team knew that Mortimer was gay. Tristan had no idea that there were any queers on the football team, but it was California after all…

Tristan’s first instinct was to hurl the door open and catch the two homos in the act, but as he thought about it more and more, he decided that he’d rather use this knowledge to his advantage. This convenient piece of knowledge would provide Tristan with a trump card the next time Mortimer decided to be a total hard-ass during practice. As for Brit boy…this little bit of trivia would ensure that Jacy would have her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend on the next flight back to London.

Tristan could hardly contain his glee as he silently closed the door behind him and let the fruit bats get on with their nasty mating ritual.

****

The cell phone rang. Jason picked it up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hello?” a soft British voice responded.

“Ewan?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Look, sorry to be calling you at this hour, mate, but I’m in a taxi right now, and I’ve completely blanked out on Jacy’s address.”

Jason was confused. “Why isn’t she with you?”

“I met another bloke...and I sort of became a bad date to her.”

“Oh. Well, hold on a sec.” Jason fiddled with his Helio Hero mobile until he located Jacy’s address.

Jason heard Ewan call the directions out to the cabbie on the other line before getting back on the phone.

“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“No problem,” Jason answered before hanging up. As he did so, Delaney walked into the bedroom.

“Who was that?”

“Ewan,” Jason answered, admiring his fiancée in her cute purple PJs. He raised his green eyes to her blue ones. “Our foreign exchange student got lost.”

“Poor thing,” she answered, as she climbed into bed with Jason.

“It’s the damndest thing, though,” Jason suddenly added.

“What is?” Delaney asked.

Jason shook his head. “I could’ve sworn I heard Ewan slip into a Southern accent once or twice.”

Delaney shrugged her shoulders. “It must just be beer slur.”

“Yeah,” Jason answered, shrugging off his paranoia to cuddle with Delaney. “You’re probably right.”

****

Tristan didn’t know when or where the hell he had learned to do an English accent. Sure, it wasn’t worthy of an Oscar, but he had effectively fooled Jason Kent, who wasn’t exactly a dim bulb. Jason was Jacy’s only friend who Tristan had the cell number of. That was because Tristan hardly knew Joe Estes – who played on defense. As for Tristan’s relationship with Ryan Mackey…the two were probably closer to being mortal enemies. Tristan had located the nearest payphone and called Jason, who definitely would have had caller ID on his fancy PDA/cell.

What Tristan had done most definitely bordered on sleaze, but he was so resolved at this point to break the news to Jacy about her closeted boyfriend that there was no way he was going to turn back now. He found her apartment building, a decent five-story structure, and pushed the button to her individual apartment. He cleared his throat.

“Hello?” a familiar female voice called out.

“Hey, Jacy,” he managed again in his best British accent.

“Finally you’re back!” The buzzer sounded, and Tristan opened the entrance to the building. He climbed three flights until he reached Jacy’s floor and looked for apartment 3B. When he finally located the door, he found that it had already been left open.

Tristan smiled. This was too damn easy.

****

Jacy was finishing her dishes when she heard the front door close. “Did you have a good time?” she called over her shoulder.

No answer. Odd. She hoped that Ewan didn’t have a bad experience with some ignorant American. She placed the final rinsed dish on her drying rack and wiped her hands on the dishtowel. She felt a little ridiculous in only her gray boy shorts and white tank top, but since it was only Ewan, Jacy didn’t place too much concern on her appearance.

She stepped through the kitchen doorway…and screamed.

Tristan Carter was standing in her living room with the most irritatingly gorgeous smirk on his face. He shamelessly ogled Jacy in her barely-there ensemble. She instinctively crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

“How did you get up here?”

“With some cleverly executed dialogue,” he answered, still smirking and still staring at her body. “I like when you cross your arms like that…it makes your tits pop up more.”

Jacy’s jaw dropped in indignation. “Get out!”

“Can’t,” he answered, finally bringing his crystal blue eyes up to meet hers.

“Why is that?” Jacy gritted out.

“I’ve learned something that affects you.”

Jacy’s eyebrow arched skeptically. “Oh yeah? Well how ‘bout I’m not interested?”

Tristan’s grin didn’t waver. “Oh, I think you’ll want to know this.”

Jacy shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t think so.” She slipped past Tristan to the front door and opened it for him to leave. “Good-bye.”

Tristan casually turned to face her. “Your boyfriend’s a faggot.”

Jacy’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I was just in the washroom at Stan Spankman’s when I heard two guys going at it in the next room. I probably would have walked away if I hadn’t heard the accent.”

Jacy didn’t seem to hear him. “You were spying on two guys having sex?”

Tristan didn’t expect that reaction. “N-no.”

Jacy covered her mouth in shock. “Oh my God…that is sooo sad!” She tried to suppress her laughter, but she wasn’t that strong. Pretty soon, she was laughing so hard that it hurt and banging her fist on the door in response to the fact that one of the biggest homophobes in existence had willingly spied on gay male sex.

Tristan scowled and confusion took over. “What the fuck kind of reaction is this? Didn’t you hear – you boyfriend’s a fucking quee –

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jacy managed as her laughter slowly died.

“What?”

She turned to face Tristan directly and sounded out the words to make him feel stupider than he already felt. “He’s – not – my – boy –friend.”

Tristan’s eyes narrowed into thin slits of ice. “Well then what the fuck is he?” he gritted out.

Jacy turned to him and regarded him condescendingly. “He’s my gay friend from England.”

Tristan didn’t move…he only stared. Jacy matched his scrutinizing stare with her own. She knew he was pissed, but really, the dumbass had brought this on himself.

Jacy slowly peeled herself from the door and gestured for Tristan to leave. After several seconds, he finally moved.

“Thanks for stopping b-

Jacy was jerked forward by a strong arm. Tristan pulled on her until she collided with his hard body. She was completely unprepared for his sudden aggression and felt herself moving slightly backward. She heard the door close with a loud thud behind her. Tristan had pushed the damn thing with his free hand. Jacy made a feeble attempt to evade him, but he pulled her back and slammed her against the closed door. Jacy’s hazel eyes shot up indignantly, but as she looked into Tristan chilly blue eyes, she knew she was going to lose this battle.

Jacy knew she was going to regret this…big time.

****

A/N: Sorry...but you know how I love those cliffhangers!