Loyal

Chapter 9

Colin's POV

Vera is fast asleep by the time we roll up to the apartment. I jump out and cross to the passenger side to take her out. She stirs a little and reaches out to me. I grab her and hold her like she's a sleeping child. She's so damn cute when she's drunk.

"Alright, keys?" I ask, as we head across the parking garage towards the apartment complex.

"267, unlocked," she says sleepily. We take the elevator up, thank God its empty. At 4 am I don't feel like dealing with all the damn fuss that comes with being a quarterback for the 49ers.

267 is just across the hall from the elevator. We make our way down and I push open the apartment door. It's a lot smaller than I'm used to. I make my way through the apartment and assume Vera's room is the one with a picture of her and an older woman on the door.

"How many drinks would it take you to leave with meee?" She quietly sings as I lay her down onto the black comforter. She sits up on her elbows, looking at me through groggy eyes. I can't help but laugh. I know she's not usually like this. 

"It wouldn't even take one," I smile, taking off her shoes and putting them onto the floor next to her bed. I look around her room; I can't remember the last time I've been in a girl's room. Maybe high school. I never have to go to a girl's house, they always come to me.

"Colin?" Vera asks softly. I turn; she sits up on the bed, putting her hand on my leg.

"Yes Vera?" I ask, trying to keep my mind on something other than the fact that we're both on a bed and she's in a dress that barely covers her legs. Goddamn those legs.

"I want you," she says. I feel the hairs on my neck stand up. She's laying on her stomach now, looking at me in a way that sets me on edge.

"Vera, that's the alcohol talking," I'm grinding my teeth now, feeling myself become aroused. Her thick legs are too perfectly exposed in that short red dress, her ass so damn perfect. If this were any other girl, I'd have her against the wall already, fucking her senseless. But Vera....she's..different.

"You can't read my mind!" she exclaims, crawling towards me. I feel blocked, cornered.....but in the best way. I think quietly to myself, She's drunk...she's drunk...she's drunk...Vera is on all fours, her nose brushing against my cheek. I feel her lips against my jaw, travelling down to my neck. I close my eyes. Her hands fumbling across my pants, reaching for me. She grabs at my length. Before I can think, I take her legs, pulling her on top of me. 

"Uh oh..." she murmurs, stopping her movement. I sit up, bewildered because I'm more than ready to keep moving. 

"What?" I ask, trying to look past the haze of sex clouding my vision. Vera starts dry heaving again, but before I can react she vomits on the wooden floor near the bed. Some of it gets on me. She eases off, holding her hand to her mouth.

"Shit," I say under my breath. The blood has gone back to my brain in a matter of seconds. I pull off my shirt and slide out of my pants, putting them both into her trashcan. Nothing pisses me off more than my clothes getting ruined, but for some reason with Vera, I don't mind as much. She lies back onto the bed. Making sure she is completely clean, as well as her sheets, I cover her again. She goes straight back to sleep. I sit on her bed in my boxers, wondering what the fuck I'm doing here. Why the hell do I care so much about her? 

I go to the kitchen and find some cleaning spray and paper towels and head back to clean the mess. I'm reminded of my days as a young kid cleaning the floor of the community center I spent so many of my summers at. The floor is spotless in seconds and I move the trash and my soiled clothes to the kitchen trash. 

Sitting back on the bed, thankfully, the smell of vomit is gone. I lie back onto a pillow, perpendicular to her. There's something hard in the pillowcase, and I pull it out. A notebook. 

I hesitate before flipping it open. There are random sketches, writings, and clippings pasted inside. I flip more. I stop at a page with a drawing of... me. My chest at least. Tattoos and all. Underneath is a description.

He is so beautiful. His body is perfect. But what good is a flawless body if what's on the inside is decaying?

I flip some more.

He seems self centered and conceited. The complete opposite of anything I would usually be attracted to. How could someone be so obsessed with material things??

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

Is he playing with me?

I can't stop thinking about him. But I want to.

Before I close the book I come across the last page she wrote in, bookmarked with a pen. It's a drawing of her, blowing heart shaped bubbles. As the bubbles ascend, they come up to the top of the page, where she drew me popping them. I close the book and put it back into the pillowcase.

Well, one thing's for damn sure. I'm most definitely on her mind.

********************************************************************************************************

"What the actual fuck!" I wake up to Leah's voice, breaking through my sleep like a defensive tackle through the O-line. I shoot up, putting a finger over my mouth to tell her to be quiet, so she won't wake up Vera. Leah's eyes dart back and forth from me to Vera, and she violently mouths for me to get the hell out of the room.

"What the!" Leah exclaims once more, I motion for her to calm down.

"Leah, I swear, it ain't not what it looks like!" I try to explain quickly. Leah waves a hand to silence me.

"I do not care, just get the hell out! What the fuck are you still doing here anyway!?" She snaps. I raise my hands in defeat.

"Okay, I'm leaving. Do have something I can wear? Vera threw up all over my clothes."

 Leah smirks.

"Yeah, I got something for you to wear alright. Hold on," She disappears down the hall and comes back, thrusting a small wad of clothes at me. I open the wad to find a small tank top and a tight pair of leggings.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me Leah," I look at her and she returns a devilish grin.

"It's either that, or you wear your boxers. Your choice Kaepernick," she shrugs, shoving me towards the door.

I pull on the impossibly tight tanktop, it barely covers my stomach, and struggle to put on the leggings.

"Leah, what the fuck!," I snap, trying to adjust my balls in the skin tight pants. Leah laughs and snaps a few pictures with her phone.

"I've been needing to post something new on my Instagram!" She laughs, shoving me out the door and waving good-bye. I run to the parking garage, prayin to God nobody sees me.