Chapter 18

 

I don’t really know what’s up with this dude Nick, or why he is showing an annoying amount of interest in me. He’s cute and all, in a frat boy idiot sort of way. And I’ve never really been attracted to frat boy idiots.

First of all, he’s wearing way too much aftershave and it’s burning my nostrils every time he brings in his face close to mine. I’m too nice to tell him to get lost, especially since I’m technically a guest in Mason’s home for the temporary future, and I have no rights to tell another guest to leave. So I’m standing here dealing with it, giving short answers to his stupid questions and hoping he leaves soon.

So far he’s asked my name, where I’m from, what I do for a living. Basic boring stuff. Nick wraps a big, muscular tank of an arm around my waist and I try not to visibly shiver and recoil with disgust. This guy is coming on way too strong for me. We just met less than an hour ago and he’s all over me and trying to nuzzle my neck, his breath reeking of beer.

I have no idea how to get him to leave me alone, and it seems like an impossible challenge in my current situation. Maybe I could pretend to faint. No, then he might get even more all over me, and try to give me CPR or something. Gross.

He keeps reciting the same boring lines over and over again, telling me I’m pretty and calling me an angel who fell into his lap. If that isn’t suffocating and irritating enough, he also seems like a major douche bag who is going wildly over the top with extremes to try and impress me.

As Nick blathers on, I find out that the reason for this gathering is because some meaty guy named Mike is obsessed with UFC fights and wanted to watch it on Mason’s big screen TV. Even if Nick hadn’t pointed him out, I would have easily picked Mike out of a crowd.

He is intense. He’s also hugely buff with boulder sized muscles on his biceps and shoulders. He’s sitting in front of the TV, watching the pre-fight stuff where the fighters do interviews. He could probably stand to sit back a little… I have no idea how many inches the tv is but it takes up nearly the entire wall above the fireplace. You could see it from the road, I bet.

Mike is mainly watching the fight and hardly engaging in conversation with his buddies, but it’s not stopping Nick from patronizing him any chance he gets. I can tell that Nick is extremely competitive which leads me to believe that his snide narcissistic personality is just a front for a guy who really feels like shit and has self-esteem issues underneath it all.

At least that’s what I’m hoping for, otherwise he’s just an egotistical maniac. Nick is the loudest one at the party, telling obnoxious jokes that nobody is really even laughing at but that’s not stopping his momentum one bit.

I know he wants me to go home with him tonight, because he’s continuing to dial up the hot pursuit. The later it gets in the evening, the worse the ticking clock becomes my mortal enemy. Nick says he has a hot tub. He says his sheets are Egyptian cotton. He asks if I like wine, and then tells me all about his fancy collection. I can practically feel the final question building up in his mind. He’s going to ask me to go home with him. Any second now.

I can’t go home with this jerk. He would no doubt try to bed me immediately and then I’d bet a million dollars that he’s not even very good at sex. No freaking thank you.

Meanwhile, I keep trying to make eye contact with Mason, or at the very least get him to even look up at me once. If he could see how uncomfortable I am, maybe he’d step in and distract Nick or something.

I bore my eyes through him, and usually the rule is that people will feel the stare of another and glance their way. But because of my terrible luck, staring at him is not working in my favor. I’m beginning to think my magic staring trick won’t work with Mason.

My chest tightens. Maybe he’s purposely ignoring me.

We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot the first night I started living here, when we kissed, and he disappeared never to be heard from or seen again until tonight. Still, I don’t think he’d purposely be an asshole to me, but maybe he is. I don’t really know him at all.

Nick throws his arm around my neck and kisses my cheek softly. I cringe. Why can’t this guy take a freaking hint?

If Mason isn’t going to look at me so that I can give him an SOS signal, I’m going to have to think of something else before this guy picks me up kicking and screaming and tosses me into his car to go home with him.

Just when I think things can’t possibly get worse, the struggle blows up to epic proportions in my screaming mind. Nick starts feeling me up, moving his hand up my thigh and totally invading my personal space while everyone else is focusing on the television. I haven’t given him permission to approach this level of intimacy, especially in front of other people. I freeze. I want to push him away or scream at him but I’m stuck, unable to move.

I’m completely mortified as Nick whispers into my ear. “Let’s go baby. What do you say we bring the party back to my place?”

Finally, my instincts kick in. I panic and jump to a standing position. I’m about to bolt toward my bedroom, but then I realize that Nick will only follow me. Leading him to my room would be the worst move right now.

“Hey baby, what’s the matter?” Nick says, wiggling his eyebrows at me. It’s like he doesn’t even see that I’m totally creeped out by him. And he’s already giving me a pet name? What the hell? I’m sure he probably doesn’t even remember my name.

It’s obvious that his own judgement is clouded with his desire to get laid tonight and I’m his prime target. He’s on the hunt, but I won’t let him take me down.

“I, um…have to go to the bathroom,” I stammer and walk away, feeling happier with every inch of space I get between me and this creep.

Here I am, trying to burrow away from the biggest ass on the planet and I still want to be nice to him. I really need to grow a backbone one of these days. If it were Alexa in my position, she probably would have knocked him through a wall already. I need to learn how to defend and stick up for myself, especially if I want to live out there in the real world on my own.

That’s it, I think. Alexa!

Suddenly a beautiful idea pops into my head like sunshine after a rainstorm. Walking to the bathroom downstairs, I close and lock the door behind me and lean up against the wall, taking a deep breath.

I’m safe for now, but I need real rescue. I pull my phone out of my pocket and pull up Alexa’s number, going to my text message screen.

Are you busy?

I type the text out and hit the send button, praying that Alexa will see the message alert and will reach out to me quickly.

I glance at myself in the mirror. My big brown eyes are laced with anxiety. I should have listened to my gut instincts earlier and just gone to my room to retire for the evening after I saw the living room full of guys. Why did I think this night would pan out to be anything worthwhile, being the only girl and basically the shark bait for hungry predators…in this case the frisky and assertively over-confident Nick?

I don’t even know his last name. How could he really be as stupid to believe that I would go along with something so bogus as agreeing to go home with him and get in his bed? No thank you.

A minute or two later, my phone dings with a new message. Thank God, it’s from Alexa.

Not too busy just getting ready for bed. What’s up?

I heave a sigh of relief and work my fingers swiftly against the keys, pounding sentences out in desperation.

I need help, I plead to her. There’s this creepy douche bag guy at Mason’s house and he won’t leave me alone.

Alexa responds after a few seconds. What the hell? Where’s Mason?

That’s the thing, I explain, feeling incredibly lame. He’s here, but he’s like totally not paying attention to my subtle attempts to grab his attention and get him to help me out here.

Does the guy want you to go home with him or something? Alexa’s question hits the nail on the head and I marvel at her profound capabilities to capture the essence of any situation, light or heavy.

Yes! I type quickly. You’ve got to text Mason or call him…or something. Tell him to save me from this jerk!

Alexa doesn’t respond for a minute or two, and I’m going crazy standing here in the bathroom. Then my phone dings. I’ll give you Mason’s number.

Great. This totally isn’t awkward at all. What if he sees a text message pop up from a number he doesn’t recognize and ignores it or worse…deletes it without even reading what it says?

I have nothing to lose, and I have to try it.

Thank you, I’ll let you know if the plan works. I hit send on the message to Alexa and with shaking hands, I mull over in my head what to say to Mason.

By now, I’m sure Nick is probably wondering where the hell I’ve run off to and judging by his lack of character so far, I don’t put it past him to wander around Mason’s house trying to find me on his own. I have to nip this one in the bud before he bum-rushes me. I bite the bullet and plunge into a text message with Mason.

Hey, it’s Livi I tell him right off the bat, so he’ll read it and be more inclined to respond to my cry for help.

Livi? What’s up?

I’m really sorry, I explain. I need a favor.

A few seconds go by and he hasn’t replied, despite replying instantly the first time. Great. He’s already in the middle of the last favor I asked of him, which was to live in his house rent free. He probably doesn’t want to start another one for me.

I curse the timing, that I waited so long to go home tonight, and then by the time I got here it was too late. I should have been home earlier, locked in my room alone and unnoticed like most other days.

The trap had already been set, through no fault of Mason’s of course, but I’m just cringing inside at the sheer thought of having to deal with Nick and fighting him off with a stick for one more second of my night.

I breathe out a sigh of relief when Mason finally texts back.

Sure, what do you need?

I know he doesn’t owe me anything and there’s no true incentive for him to dig me out of this sinking quick sand with Nick, but I need help and there’s no other options on the horizon that I can visibly see as working for a way out.

You know that guy Nick?

I hit the send button again.

A few seconds of silence, then a response. Not well.

Okay, so he’s not really catching on, so I’m going to have to step up the game a little. He’s coming on a little strong, I text.

I noticed, Mason replies.

Do you think you might be willing to help me out? I wince and hold my breath as I wait for Mason’s answer.

Help you with what? He asks.

Like… ask him to leave me alone or something? I’m hiding in the bathroom to avoid him.

I’m so embarrassed, and I hate having to involve somebody else to do my dirty work but I don’t really see another option here. All I can do is throw myself at the mercy of Mason and hope that he’ll throw me a bone here and will help get rid of the creep that’s waiting to pounce on me in the living room.

I’ll take care of it.

I have to read the message twice in order to make sure I’m really seeing it correctly. He’ll take care of it. I don’t know if he’s annoyed with me or not, but at least he’s going to fix the problem. I take a deep breath, pee and glance in the mirror. I wait a few minutes to determine whether Mason is going to text me back and let me know if it’s safe to emerge from the bathroom.

When I don’t hear from him for another five minutes, I text him back. This guest bathroom is a little on the tight side, and I’m starting to get claustrophobic in here.

Is it safe to come out yet? I inquire with optimism.

A couple of minutes later, and Mason’s text chimes through my phone. Yes, it’s safe now.

Okay, so now I’m even further indebted to Mason, and the list goes on and on…I’ll never be able to repay him for any of these gracious favors.

Thank you, I respond back and place in a smiley face emoji at the end for a charming effect.

Mason doesn’t reply to that, but it’s not like I really expect him to anyway. Slowly, I place my hand on the bathroom knob and twist it, pushing the door open with caution. The hallway is quiet. I take a few strides toward the living room and peek my head out ever so slightly so that the contents of the area can be revealed to me but I’ll still remain hidden in the shadows.

There’s no sign of Nick the douche.

My shoulders instantly relax with relief that Mason held up his end of the bargain. At that moment, I see Mason as he passes by me.

“Hey,” I whisper to him and he stops to turn around.

“Yeah?” He asks in a distant tone, acting as if our entire text conversation from the bathroom didn’t even happen.

“Thanks…um, for coming to my rescue.” I give him a shy smile. I’m feeling slightly sheepish and I’m sure that’s radiating from my expression right now.

“No problem,” Mason shrugs and starts to walk away as if it’s no big deal and he’s forgotten what I even asked him for in the first place. I stand there for a few moments, watching as Mason begins to clean up. It’s quiet in the house, so I’m guessing everyone has gone home by now. The fight was nearly over when I had snuck away to the bathroom.

“Do you need any help?” I ask him, standing awkwardly in the hallway. “I don’t mind lending a hand. The food was delicious by the way.”

I feel out of place again as he works seamlessly, putting things away in the fridge and into containers.

“I’ve got it,” he says to me and doesn’t break his stamina.

“Okay…” I whisper softly and turn around to walk back to my bedroom because if he doesn’t need me out there, then I suppose there’s nothing left to do but go to sleep and try again tomorrow.