Harper, meet closure.

Resolve steadied my shoulders, tipped up my chin, scanned my battlefield, and drew in a slow, deep breath.

Smells like cheap beer, sweaty testosterone, and disappointed vaginas.

The compromised phone conversation I'd had with Jake that brought me and Li to his home opener game, where admittedly we'd actually had a pretty good time, and me here tonight was tucked into my phone pocket. While Li rushed home for her it's-a-date-date with Kieran, I found myself surrounded with... testosterone-filled disappointment.

No, closure. Say it again Harper, closure.

As the warm, humid air mixed with loud conversations and throbbed party music surrounded me, I reminded myself of all the reasons I'd agreed when Jake asked that I attended his house party afterwards. After the game, a texted address and meet up time from him later, I weaved through a blurred scene of dancing, drinking, making out, and nearly an entire houseful of eyes on me.

With each step of my red, four-inch stiletto heels, which I'd chosen specifically if some asshole needed the spike driven into his foot as a direct 'fuck off' response, I pushed past a few sweaty bodies and made my way further inside this testosterone-festered fuck-fest.

So gross. It's practically dripping off the walls.

"Harper?"

My eyes took in a few vaguely familiar guys from Jake's UCLA visit, which included the brown-haired guy who'd gotten into a verbal pissing match with EJ.

What was his name? Biff? Miff? Stiff?

Thankfully, after I spoke with Ethan and Kieran at the UCLA party, EJ had shifted himself into my 'cool enough classmate' friendzone. He brought up Jake once though but, just the one threat from me against his manhood later, thankfully exercised enough common sense that he hadn't pushed me on the subject further.

One dick under control.

"Yeah," I confirmed and eyed the guy who leaned casually against the stairwell between makeout-living room and herpes-central-upstairs. His gray USC T-shirt, black jeans with ripped knees, and 'completely out of place for Southern California' gray beanie that sat sloppily on his head all screamed casual but none of me trusted any guy here who knew my name when I didn't know his.

With a quick step forward, I fixed my eyes on his and warned in a cool, even tone, "You have about three seconds to tell me where the fuck Jake Harrison is or -"

"Definitely Harper," he grumbled quietly and pointed at the kitchen. "He's outside at the bar, waiting for you. Told all of us that, if we saw you, to direct you out there."

"Of course that lazy ass did," I mumbled and rolled my eyes.

My feet led me down the hallway the guy had pointed down, through a decently large red solo infested kitchen, and out a sliding glass door onto a covered deck. Strong vibrations across my chest brought my attention to the fact my heart rate increased until it throbbed faster than the regulated music beats. With each visual scan, eyes that locked with mine or openly checked me out, internally I repeated one word like a mantra for my mission here tonight.

Closure.

Closure.

Close - fuck, there he is.

Once a fresh breeze of the night air hit my cheeks, I looked around and saw a few stools were positioned next to a high table covered with a black tablecloth in a makeshift bar area. With the exception of a few people who swooped in, congratulated each other on the game win, and grabbed drinks at their leisure, the bar area was completely empty except for one Jake Harrison.

His large frame looked ridiculous on the normal-sized stool, where his entire body and eye gaze were directed at where I stood in the doorway like he'd waited for me. Two dark brown eyes, already almost the color of dark chocolate, darkened the longer they stared at me. A slight upwards lift in the left corner of his mouth was all Jake needed before he resembled one of Li's posters.

With one slightly lifted eyebrow, Jake raised one hand in my direction. Irritation flickered inside me when I saw he made no attempts to stand up and greet me. Instead, he leaned backwards, rested one elbow on the bar, and raked his eyes over me like a starving man who looked at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Fucker's literally going to make me walk over to him.

He wants the self-satisfaction game, fine. Two can play.

I flipped my eyes sideways and locked them onto a tall, muscular guy with blonde hair who stood the same distance away as Jake, with a girl pressed closely into both his sides. His hands lingered a bit too close to their asses for my taste, but a player was what I needed, so I went through the guaranteed motions for attracting a douche's attention.

One look down at the red dress that hugged every part of my body and I'd paired with my trusty matching toe-breaker stilettos showed I definitely looked fuckable tonight. The backless, sleeveless halter top covered up any flashes of cleavage but the girls and my ass were definitely featured by how tightly the short, rouched dress clung to me, so tightly I'd skipped even a thong tonight.

With the exception of camel toe, because 'fuck no' with regards to that visual being shared, my red siren dress left no part of my body to the imagination. After I'd painted Li in a neutral enough option for her 'it'd better still be a date by now' with Kieran, I'd pulled my hair in a high, tight ponytail and gone more dramatic on my makeup that even the thickest of beer goggles would've noticed.

In the game of male attention grabbing, I'd learned quickly at how easily a guy - any guy who wasn't in a committed relationship, that is - could be attracted closer. With a slight part in my red, glossy lips, I exercised those foolproof steps and fixed my eyes on the blonde-haired tool's baby blues until he looked in my direction and predictably fell right into my trap.

One. Two. Three.

Let's hook a dick.

From practice in the mirror, I threw Mister Actually-thinks-he-has-a-chance what I knew looked like a flirty smile, then flicked my eyes in another direction. Any direction worked but luck directed my gaze right onto Jake's, so I winked at the now murderous look he wore in his eyes and waited another three seconds. My lips curled up and I flashed my eyes back at Blondie, who still looked at me with enough interest that he completely ignored his side pieces. This time I held his gaze with my own hard stare, held my smile, and mentally threw him one message.

You know you want to play.

The tool got two steps towards me when Jake's ass flew off the stool so hard it tipped over. He intercepted Blondie with a hard glare at me and palmed both his hands into the guy's chest.

Guys are too predictable.

If I knew anything about sexual exchanges, then it was how easily manipulated guys were. They were attracted to confidence, so the 'lock eyes, look away, smile, slow-motion eyes back and hold' method worked for me nearly every time. While the guys thought they summed up courage as they approached me, really I'd already invited and baited them right through the dick.

And the fact Jake witnessed that little reminder, fuck even better.

"Harper." Jake's dark eyes glared down at me but the heat that burned in his irises only fueled my ego and proved my track record still held. His pale pink lips parted slightly, he rolled them inward, and dragged the tip of his tongue over them. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Aww, jealous Jake?" I tossed in a fake, flirty voice and tapped one index finger on the tip of his nose. "You wanted me here. Annoyingly, I'll add, but I'd think you'd be more appreciative of my efforts. I did go to your game, after all."

With a flourished spin on my heels and arched lower back for extra ass emphasis, I called over my shoulder, "And I thought this dress looked nice."

In a strained, almost angry tone of voice, he spat back, "Nice is the last word I'd use for that dress."

Jake's only other response was a large, warm palm pressed right in between my bare shoulder blades and the pressure he applied so I walked with him. I ignored the heat that radiated off both his palm and the side of his body, down his arm pressed against mine, and stepped sideways so a slight airspace breathed between us. I wanted absolutely no reaction from my traitorous body caused by our close proximity, before the scent of his cologne wrapped around me and killed off my brain cells.

Finger flicking to him is embarrassing enough.

Like a possessive ass, Jake's arm reached around to my side and jerked me flush against him, where I made sure my elbow jutted a warning into his ribs. His jaw clenched tighter shut but he led me over to the bar and pointed at one of the stools with his hand that wasn't on my back.

Warm vibrations hit my right ear when his deep voice grumbled and his breath tickled the skin on the side of my neck, "You know how much your... efforts have an effect on me."

Although Jake wasn't wrong, his sarcasm earned him a wink, so I gave him one. "A single girl's gotta work with what she has."

My lips curled up at the string of curse words he released, along with how he dragged one hand down his face. Jake himself had cleaned up, as much as a post-game college football player did. His crisp white T-shirt stuck out against his black jeans in the dim outside lighting, stretched over his ridiculously cut torso and shoulders that my eyes appreciated a bit too much based on the smirk that curled higher up into his cheeks the longer I side eyed him.

The two-weeks' lapse in time since I'd had a non-dildo release rose in my conscience the longer I stood in Jake's presence. The farthest example of a model student, I'd already noticed the slight fogginess that had crept into my brain over the week. How Thursday night's homework assignments had taken me longer hadn't done me any favors either.

"I don't know what frustrates me more..." My breath hitched slightly at the way Jake's voice bordered a tortured growl. He bent down and leaned in close enough so that my ear was the only one that heard his words, "The fact you know exactly what you in that dress does to me and do it on purpose..."

His dramatic pause only earned him a raised eyebrow as I stared ahead at absolutely nothing. "Or?"

A sharp exhale hit my ear. "...or how I haven't taken you upstairs and torn it off."

His words sent a flush of heated, pulsing anticipation straight between my thighs and I fought the urge that I squeezed them together. That movement he would've for sure noticed, so I fell back onto the only sarcasm I had left in my brain.

"Smut as shit." My ponytail brushed over my shoulders as I shook my head. In as bored of a voice as I managed despite the obvious semi he now sported, I reminded him with a slight test, "You have a girlfriend, remember Babes."

The frown that slightly creased the space between his eyes contrasted the glint in his eyes. "You know I don't anymore. And I meant what I said."

"Listen, Jake -" I started the 'closure' speech I'd rehearsed a few times on my way over here, that every red traffic light my car idled at had heard.

In my mind, I'd been more than nice when I warned Jake about his ex-whatever she was not necessarily being done with him. I hated back-stabbers, and pretty much any girl who gave us blondes a bad name, but I'd done Jake a solid.

And now I'm done. So time to tell him.

With the beyond intense look Jake gave me, the way my skin tingled like waves of anticipation radiated outwards from his palm's contact, and how my fingers twitched into fists at my sides fogged out all of the versions of 'we can't do this' that I'd practiced earlier. Now that I was one dick's distance from Jake's gigantic, masculine presence, his sexual interest oozed all over me, words actually failed me... until what he said next.

"Roses are red, violets are blue, firecracker." His smirk creased up higher into his cheeks. My lips however, wrenched into a scowl because I wasn't here for games.

"Seriously? We're going to play that game?" I sighed as cool air replaced the warmth from his hand on my back, slid into one of the bar stools, and propped my bare elbows onto what I hoped wasn't a sticky surface. "Aren't we a little old for that?"

Jake grabbed two Anchors from within a small cooler behind the table, then slid one across the tablecloth-covered bar top to me like a peace offering. His eyes never left mine as he maneuvered back around the table and sat next to me.

I offered him a slight smile since he remembered one of my favorite beers, a California-based lager, then wrapped my hand around the neck. The ice-cold surge into my skin was the grounded reminder I needed because a faint pulse woke up between my legs.

Remembering my favorite beer aside, he's not getting any 'pass Go, straight up Harper's skirt bonus points though.

Even if I'm not wearing panties.

I watched Jake in my peripheral vision as he tipped his head back and took a long, slow drink. The prominent muscles along his neck and five o'clock shadow looked better in person too.

And I bet my left tit that it feels rough and masculine against my -

"Why not?" Jake's eyes lifted from the drink in his hands to mine as his words fortunately interrupted my thoughts. His irises had flicked a shade darker as he nonverbally issued a challenge. "Don't tell me you've gone soft."

"The one with soft issues isn't me..." I paused, clasped my palm around my beer suggestively, stroked out a few hand movements, then thumbed away some condensation in a massage-like motion up and down the neck. Jake had bated my ego though, and it bit, "You'll lose anyways. Terms?"

"If I win, you come upstairs." Jake didn't blink once as he watched as I took a sip. While I pretended I ignored the heated stare that felt like my skin was touched, I was a liar if I said that his undivided attention hadn't gone unnoticed by another, and particularly traitorous, part of my body.

"Bold, but intriguing..." I set down my beer, then placed one index finger against my lower lip and pretended I thought over my winning terms even though I already had them in mind. "And if I win?"

"Then I take you upstairs." His eyes darkened as his pupils dilated.

The way my heart rate accelerated into my ears proved that his intense, near-feral look was as equally harder to ignore in person as the now throbs for attention between my legs threw their own party. So I looked away and examined a nonexistent chip on my thumbnail. "Sounds a bit... one-sided."

"It'll be mutually beneficial." He flashed a charming smile that I didn't trust for one second. "Level the playing field then, Reynolds."

"If you win, Jake... Well, we both know what that means." I stared at him as a slow smile spread across my lips. "And if I win, then you're not contacting me again. Ever."

"Deal." His shoulders shrugged casually since he probably thought I wasn't serious. "But me first."

"By all means, Jake." One of my palms turned upwards in invitation. "Asshole before beauty."

"Roses are red, violets are blue." He smiled wryly, took a long sip from his beer, then finished with, "I'm stuck with my hand, but thinking about you."

"Adorably cute." My eyes rolled at his lame start. "Roses are red, violets are blue. I'd rather hang out with Earl Roberts than associate with you."

I mean that, even though Earl probably went to bed at seven.

"Not your best start either, at least mine's honest." His elbow nudged mine. "Roses are red, violets are blue. My lips can't wait to kiss every inch of you."

"Body parts, huh? Okay, here's mine." I smirked and flashed him the hand gesture I most associated him with, "Roses are red, violets are blue. I have five fingers, and the middle one is for you."

"Your signature greeting for me. Saw it enough today, thanks." Jake's broad shoulders hitched as he chuckled, which also revealed the small dimple in his left cheek. He reached one palm under my hand, then folded my middle finger back down with the other finger's hands. I tried to ignore the warm tingles that engulfed my hand as his hands lingered over mine, then pulled mine back to my lap.

Fortunately, he continued in a light, teasing tone with, "Roses are red, violets are blue... Just like the Titanic, I'll go down on you."

Fitting analogy since that's what I call Ellie shipping us.

My half-closed eyes showed I was less than impressed as I retorted, "Roses are red, violets are blue. If I had a brick, then I'd throw it at you."

"Roses are red, violets are blue. I suck at poetry..." Jake sucked in a breath, paused, and pretended he hesitated, but the smile that played on his lips gave him away. "Show me your tits?"

"Seriously?" My head tipped back slightly as I laughed at his idiocy. "Roses are red, violets are blue..."

I paused, reached over, and poked my index finger into the middle of his forehead for one second. "Your brain is pea-sized..." My eyes then traveled down until they rested on the still obvious bulge in between his legs. "And your dick is too."

"Roses are red, violets are blue," he stated in a light-hearted, borderline sweet tone of voice that teased way too closely into our past and dropped his gaze down to my lips. "Harper Reynolds I really wanna kiss you."

"Lame." I scoffed and smacked his closest shoulder, which was as stupidly hard as it looked. "That one flamed out in junior high, Harrison."

"I'm touched you remember." One of his dark brown eyes winked at me and thankfully his voice sounded playful when he added, "Who said my feelings behind it haven't?"

"Jake -" I warned him because, even jokingly, he'd touched on the sensitive subject of the f-word.

And not my favorite swear word.

"Besides," he murmured in a low voice as one of his hands cupped my chin and his thumb ghosted an outline over my lower lip. "I didn't say kiss you here."

"Roses are red, violets are blue," my voice wavered slightly as I tried to keep up my insults, although at this point I mentally cursed myself for not wearing panties for the hip line that would've shown with my dress. "I'd rather be celibate then have sex with you."

"We both know that one's bullshit." He chuckled but withdrew his hand. "You're disappointing me, Harper."

I didn't respond other than took a long sip of my beer and pretended that I hadn't felt anything from his contact on my lips, or suggestion of where he put his. And I certainly hadn't felt the slight trickling sensation between my legs.

Nope.

"Roses are red, my balls are blue," he continued. "Harper Reynolds, I want to fuck you."

"So I've heard." The words were barely out of my mouth when a strong hand clamped around the back of my neck and Jake tugged me closer until our lips nearly touched. My body lit up in response and I felt the intensity of Jake's intentions when his next word fanned across my lips.

"Now."

I pulled back and nearly snorted my beer up the wrong tube as my breath hitched at the seriousness in his voice. Gone were the playful undertones and replaced with a rougher, more intense, more desperate timber that shot a rush of heat right between my thighs and radiated outwards.

My voice wavered and I croaked out, "Roses are red, violets are blue... I'd rather enjoy my dildo than spend time with you."

"We can arrange that too." Fire burned in his eyes as they fixated on mine. "Roses are red, violets are blue... I broke up with my girlfriend, because I can't stop thinking about you."

At the mention of actual feelings, my breath froze in my throat along with my subsequent shut-downs halted in my head. As my eyes roamed over every inch of his expression, I saw no traces, no signs that he kidded around any more. The same dark, feral lust like he wanted my clothes shredded off me flooded his pupils but his eyes also held a weighted emotion inside that I couldn't place.

That emotion, the pure, genuine feeling hidden behind Jake's beyond obvious sexual attraction froze the thoughts in my brain, even the breath in my lungs. An uncharacteristic thread of doubt pulled through my mind that maybe, just maybe, Jake's cheesy texts hadn't been just jokes but...

No, he can't have any real feelings. Right?

In my distracted brain fart, I barely noticed the warm, rough-skinned hand that closed around mine.

"I win, Harper."