Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
I snort. “Someone else would be my bitch.”
He huffs, letting out a sigh of frustration. “He owns a casino, and that shit will blow up the NCAA rules.”
I stop getting dressed and give him a long look. We’ve been friends since freshman year when we met on the field, so by now I’ve known him long enough to see that he needs reassuring, just like he does when I slap him on the back and tell him his arm is fucking golden and he’s going to take us to a championship next year.
He might be the quarterback, but I’m the glue that holds our defense together, the glue he needs.
I push out a grin even though I don’t feel like it. “Dude, I’m not getting arrested. Next year is going to be our year for a championship, and there’s no fucking way I’d jeopardize that.”
Except when it comes to my sister.
He nods, the scowl lifting, revealing his All-American face that is usually lit up with a permanent grin. “I knew you’d make the right decision. You know if you ever need any money, I can maybe see if one of my relatives has some extra cash. It’s a long shot, but—”
My pride jacks its head up. I was the recipient of a lot of handouts growing up, and I never want to revisit that. “No, I’m cool. I’m making it.”
“Ryker, where’d you go?” comes the sleepy voice of the jersey chaser in his bed.
I arch my brow at him, recognizing the nasally whine even with a wall between us. “Is that Muffin? Seriously? Don’t tell her shit. Her mouth is bigger than your ass.” I pause. “I thought she was doing Alex now?”
I’ve never been with her, but half the team has. A bit of a schemer, she’s never gotten over the fact that I turned her down cold freshman year when she snuck into my room one night and tried to crawl in bed with me.
Ryker shakes his head. “Apparently that was a one-time thing. Alex is probably still in love with you know who.” He cocks an eyebrow and I know he’s waiting for me to comment about Delaney, but I don’t—not going there. Yeah, I’m interested in her, always have been, but she is my teammate’s ex, and that’s touchy.
“Rykeeerrrrr, I need you, big man,” she coos from the other room, her voice making a weird throaty sound.
I suppress a laugh. “Sounds like you’re being paged, bro, and FYI, she’s looking for a paycheck, so instead of worrying about me fighting, maybe worry about Muffin pulling a fast one on you. Wrap it when you tap it.”
“You’re just trying to change the subject,” he mumbles.
I’ve finished dressing so I grab my shoes and shove them on. Once I’m ready, I put on my orange and blue Waylon Wildcats cap and jog past him into the small living area we share with two other players. A quick glance tells me their doors are still shut and I haven’t woken them up. Good.
He follows me and stands there glaring, concern on his face. “Where you going?”
“For a run.” I chug down a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge in the kitchenette.
“At five in the morning? It’s still dark—you might get run over.” He’s got an obstinate look on his face.
“I’ll stick to the sidewalks and areas with streetlights.”
“At least wear pants. It’s cold as shit out there.”
I huff out a laugh. “Dude, are you sure you aren’t a girl?”
He shrugs. “Just worry about you is all.”
“Bye, Mom,” I say sarcastically as I head out the door.
Delaney
He-Man: Are you over your ex?
Me: Why?
He-Man: Just curious. Do you miss him?
Me: Sometimes. But every day is better.
He-Man: You just have to get your groove back. I dare you to go to the library and shout out that Princess Leia is a badass.
Me: What? No!
He-Man: I thought you couldn’t turn down a dare.
Me: How will you know if I go through with it?
He-Man: Oh, I’ll be there watching. What time should I show up?
Me: Dammit. Tomorrow at 8:00 PM. BTW, I hate you. ☺
I smile, feeling good as I think about today’s text convo with He-Man. We’ve been texting on and off for the past week, just little messages here and there. He now knows I can sing every word to “Baby Got Back”, and I know he can tie a cherry stem with his tongue. I admit, I spent a few hours picturing that in my head last night.
He hasn’t brought up the whole I dare you to dream about me comment, and neither have I.
It’s Sunday night as I park my Prius at the local Piggly Wiggly and head across the parking lot. I’ve come to the second grocery store past campus, mostly because I don’t want to run into anyone while wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt with no makeup on. I’m just about to pat myself on the back for not seeing anyone, but that all goes to hell when I’m almost to the door and see Martha-Muffin with one of her sorority girlfriends at the self-checkout near the entrance.