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 can’t believe you talked me into this party,” I mutter to Skye Friday night as I walk next to her up the sidewalk as we make our way to the baseball frat house near campus. It isn’t really a frat at all, just a huge colonial brick house donated by one of the former players from Waylon who went on to play major league baseball.
“Well, you need to get out of the house. Plus, that outfit is amazing and we can’t waste it.” She eyes the black asymmetrical knit mini-dress I’m wearing. I spent my free time this week piecing together and sewing it. Made of jersey, it’s formfitting with a band of thick cream lace on the bottom, giving it a flounce. The neckline has little hearts cut out of the fabric while the back is cut into strips, creating a peekaboo effect.
“You’re so talented,” she murmurs. “Instead of being a graphic designer, you should consider fashion.”
I laugh. “Ha. Me?”
“You’d rock a nerd girl line. Think about it: cute little up-cycled dresses, shirts with books on them…the possibilities are endless.”
I shrug. Skye is sweet, but I’m not sure I’m fashion material. I just like being different and wearing something no one else has.
“Oh my God, I’m having so many epiphanies tonight.” She grabs my arm and stops walking. “Text your He-Man and see if he wants to meet you there!”
Yes, I ended up telling her about him one night this week when I’d had a few glasses of wine.
I nibble on my lips. “I kinda like not knowing who he is. It’s…freeing.”
She thinks. “True, but wouldn’t it be great to have a guy with you in case Alex is at the party?”
“He probably will be.” The jocks tend to stick together.
My brain mulls it over, part of me scared. He-Man and I have such great conversations. What if it’s not Maverick—the person I really want it to be—but some pimply-faced water boy?
Skye sighs. “You know what, stop thinking about why you shouldn’t. Just do it.”
“Fine.” I pull out my phone and type: I need you, He-Man.
Ten seconds go by and I don’t see him replying, so I send another text.
I’m still single, in case you were wondering.
Still nothing.
I’m headed to the baseball party. Do you want to meet me there?
“What’s he saying?” Skye asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing. He’s playing hard to get.”
She takes my phone, reads through the messages, and before I can stop her, she’s typing out another one.
I’m a little drunk, a lot horny, and all alone. Come with me to the party, and I mean really COME.
She hands it back to me in triumph.
“I don’t think that message is quite slutty enough,” I say with a smirk.
Skye laughs then shouts as the three little dots appear. “Well it worked—he’s replying!”
Already here, Princess Leia. Remember the first night we texted? The fantasy of us at a frat party?
My heart flutters.
Yes, I text back. It’s never far from my mind.
Meet me upstairs in the bathroom in an hour and we’ll make it come true. I dare you.
Excitement steals my breath at the thought of seeing him for real, but are we really going to hook up? I swallow. How will I know it’s you?
I’ll be the only badass athlete waiting for you in the bathroom.
My hands are trembling as I tuck my phone back in my clutch and look at Skye. “Shit. He’s here and we’re going to meet in the bathroom.”
Skye claps, giddy for me. “You’re going to have sex,” she sings.
“It doesn’t mean that,” I say, trying to shush her as we approach the door to the house, but I have to admit the exhilaration is making my steps light as we make our way inside.
I get to see He-Man!
The room is packed with groups of people talking and drinking or making out in corners. Loud music blares from the sound system, and I estimate the drunk factor is already at a five on a scale of one to ten.
Tyler calls out from the hallway where he’s chatting with some other baseball players, his hand waving at us to come over. Skye gives me a questioning look. “Want to come with?”
I shake my head. “You go on. I’ll find the bar.”
She heads off toward Tyler, and I watch as she jumps at him. He catches her in his arms and lays one on her.
Bobby Gene calls out my name, and I look up to see him standing upstairs. He’s looking handsome with a ball cap on and his arm tossed around the redhead from dance class. “Delaney!” He tips his beer at me.
I tilt my head toward his beer. “I need one of those—stat.”
Someone jostles into me from behind, and I turn to see Maverick. He runs his eyes over me, lingering on the cutouts on my chest.