Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“The fuck?”
“Once you stick your dick in her, she ain’t letting you go, bud,” Cole explains, with a wicked grin. His glee at crushing Shane’s hope is some shit, but that’s Cole for you.
“She sounds nice,” Fletcher the freshman deadpans while simultaneously taking his anger out on my Xbox controller. “You should definitely date her.”
“Bitches be craaazy,” Chasen, another freshman, sings.
“Knock that shit off, Chasen,” Brock jumps in immediately. Mother is ever watchful of his brood. He’s kicked back in one of the recliners, arm tucked behind his head, reading the Bible. I kid you not. “You want someone saying that about your mom or little sister?”
“No, Cap,” Chasen answers, duly chastened.
“Dude…” I level Peterman Two with a generic WTF look.
“What?” he answers, faking innocence as usual. “I just saved him months of incessant text and phone calls.” Then turning his attention back to Shane, “You’re welcome, Westbrook. Don’t say I never did nothing for you.”
“Your insides are some seriously dark matter, dude,” Warner says to Cole. Then he goes back to watching the Laker’s game.
Shane shakes his head and goes back to texting.
Cole turns to me again. “Are we gonna need jet-skis? Could get expensive.”
I shrug. When money isn’t an issue, there’s no such thing as can’t do. “I’ll float you. Problem solved. Anyone else want the rest of the shrimp stir-fry?”
“No,” they all answer at once, which has me grabbing the take-out box off the coffee table before one of these savages changes their minds.
“I mean, sixty foot waves? It’s totally unhinged, but I dig it.” Cole slaps his palms together and rubs. “Let’s crush some ass.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Brock mutters. Mother is a pious dude. His brother…yeah, not so much.
“Why not? It’s fun to watch him crash and burn.”
That hits a nerve. Do I love an adrenaline rush more than the next guy? Maybe. Do I push the boundaries a little too far? Sometimes. So what? I’m not hurting anyone. And the chicks I date know the score. I’m not sure Cole can say the same.
“Fuck you, Cole. Like you’re one to talk.”
“Negative. I’m into chicks, bro.”
“Cole…” Rea warns.
“Get your face out of his taint and open your eyes,” Cole says to Rea, who endures it with the chill patience of a Shaolin freaking monk. There’s a reason he’s a captain of this team. The glue of this crew. “It’s a cry for help.”
“I’m not the one drowning myself in pussy to run away from whatever is chasing me. Who’s the one with the cry for help?”
“Guys, c’mon––” Reagan shakes his head and checks his phone for the millionth time tonight. Poor bastard.
“Did somebody say taint?” Quinn shouts from the kitchen. Then he cackles like a lunatic.
“Duuuude,” Warner sings.
“Inappropriate, man,” Westbrook adds. “Highly inappropriate.”
Smith’s laughter soon turns infectious. Before long everyone else is laughing too.
Whoever found my phone. Can you please return it to me? Please! I can’t afford a new one.
The chime of an incoming text has me digging into my backpack. The bus ride home from Stanford feels longer and more painful than necessary, my body reminding me of every jab I took.
We lost to Stanford and it was a brutal one. Warner strained a quad. Quinn jammed a finger. And I got tossed out in the fourth quarter for elbowing Hernandez in the gut. Cheater deserved it.
Regardless, it was not a good look when we’re already two games behind them in the standings. Like I said, the season is a short one and we don’t have many more matches before the playoffs. Add in this bus ride home that feels like it’s taking an eternity and we’re all close to wrecked.
Seated next to me, Rea’s fast asleep, head against the window, face smashed into his pillow. Quietly, I fish out the phone and glance at the screen. Should I text back? I play with the idea. I’ve had it over a week now––maybe a little more. I can’t tell you why I haven’t returned it yet. Only that I tucked it in my gym bag and have been carrying it around with me ever since.
Hello? please text back if you have my phone. I promise I won’t be mad.
That makes me chuckle.
“What are you smiling at, princess?”
I glance up into Quinn’s smirking face and my amusement drops. He’s appropriated the entire row in front of mine under the claim that he needs more sleep than the rest of us. Asshole.
“Your mother wanted to know if I enjoyed her services last night.”
I put my head back down and focus on the redhead’s phone. I should give it back. I’ll do it as soon as I get back to campus on Monday.
“In that case, make an appointment to see the cock doc, love. Mum gets around.”
I wait for Smith to slide back down into his seat before I type.