Tamed

Chapter Twenty-Six: What Would Judah Do?

Oliver

Present Day

I'm so confused right now. Last week Charlie and I had sex—which was fucking amazing, but now she's acting like nothing happened. I even woke up in her bed the next day and all she said to me was 'good morning' and then muttered something about having an appointment to get to. It felt a lot like a morning after brush-off. Which has never fucking happened to me before. I don't know how to feel about it.

For the rest of the week she's been weird. Not exactly distant, but not overly affectionate either. I haven't even kissed her again since I've literally been inside of her. We skipped over every step we were supposed to take and went straight for the good stuff—except it doesn't feel good. I'm sure I sound like the ultimate pussy right now, but I can't help it. I want everything we should have had all along and I'm not willing to be patient. Too much time has already been wasted because I was afraid to be real with her. That ends now.

I've decided that the best way to get some clarity on the subject is to discuss it with someone who has experienced it first-hand. In the end, Judah didn't get the girl, but he did learn a valuable lesson. One that I still have a chance to avoid.

I'm sitting inside the bar at the Lodge, watching Judah and Elliot involved in what appears to be a heated discussion out on the sidewalk. The large wall of windows not only provides a scenic view for guests, but it also makes it easy to people watch while you drink. It's an activity I usually enjoy, but Judah's attitude is notably subdued when we walks inside the bar.

He pulls his ballcap down and sits at the barstool across from me. "What'd I miss?" His tone is casual as he reaches forward and grabs the pitcher from the center of the table and fills his glass. "Did they kick off yet?"

I shake my head, watching him carefully. "No, we still have five minutes."

He nods and then takes a long drink, refilling his glass before returning the pitcher. I arch an eyebrow. Judah has been making a valiant effort to reduce his drinking since returning to campus this year. I've watched him nurse the same beer for an entire night recently and now he's tipping them back as fast as he can pour them.

I sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't know she was going to be up here."

Judah looks over at me, his brow furrowing. "No, it's totally fine. I talk to Elliot all the time."

"Yeah, but that looked weird." I motion to that sad, dumb look that still on his face. "You still look fucking weird."

Judah shakes his head, his expression surprisingly serious. "No, it's not that." He looks away from me for a moment, his jaw working. "I don't know. Sometimes it's not easy to be friends with her." He turns back to me and shrugs one shoulder. "Sometimes it's really fucking hard."

"I get it. You're allowed to feel that way."

My words are sincere and uncharacteristically supportive. Typically, I would call him a pussy and tell him to suck it up. Then I'd suggest fucking one of her friends to make himself feel better—but I'm not like that with Judah. He may be a beast on the field, but underneath it all it all he's a sensitive little lamb. To be honest, we're more similar than I would like to admit. Hunter is one hundred percent my best friend. He's my ride or die, homie for motherfucking life—but there are some things I can't talk to him about.

Judah flashes a smile, lightening the tone. "I'm just inside my head at the moment. It doesn't really have to do with her."

My ears perk up. "A new girl?"