Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“You were going to share a bed with him.” It’s not so much a question as a statement.
“Yes. He’s a good guy.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You got your way.”
“This is the bed you sleep in when you’re here.”
“And the Sashas of the world?”
“They’re not you.”
My heart flutters in my chest as the butterflies swarm, and I have to remind myself that it’s our friendship he’s so vigilantly honoring. Not love. Sure, he loves me, but not like I love him. He couldn’t possibly. It’s a love so deep, I’m scared to death that I’ll never love another.
Chapter 9
Cooper
College: Junior Year
We made it to the playoffs. For the third year in a row, Central University is going all the way. Our team is undefeated this year, just like last year, and we’re so close to another championship I can taste it. We didn’t win it my freshman year, but we made it to the final game. Last year, even with losing the seniors, we rallied and pulled off a win. I want to do it again. Not just because it looks good to scouts to be on a winning team.
But I like to win.
It’s hard work to put your heart and soul into a game, practice every day of the week, deprive your body of the delicious foods that surround you, give up beer at parties, and miss out on so much because you’re in the gym or traveling to a game. No, you do it for the win. For the high that you and your team are the best.
“This blows,” Hank says from beside me.
“The win will be worth it,” I tell him.
“This is our party, and we can’t even enjoy it,” Trey grumbles.
“Do you really need alcohol to have a good time?” Nixon asks them. He’s listening to our conversation, but his eyes, like mine, are glued to Tessa and Reese, who are currently shaking what their mommas gave them in the middle of our living room floor.
“No, but it helps,” Dustin chimes in.
“Think about the end game,” Levi tells him. “We’re bringing home another championship for CU, and that looks hella good on your stats.”
“Hey, Hank. Wanna dance?” A short redhead saunters up to him, batting her eyelashes.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he tells her. She latches onto his arm, and off they go.
“See, his mood brightened. Just go find you a co-ed to hang all over you,” I say to the others.
“You’re right,” Trey agrees. “I think I’ll go ask Reese.” He takes a step forward, but my hand on his shoulder stops him.
“Fuck off,” I grumble, and they all laugh.
“Well, someone needs to because I’m about to grab my girl.” Nixon drains his bottle of water, tosses it in a nearby trash can, and heads straight for Tessa.
“Hi, Coop, you look lonely. Want to join me out there?” Lisa—or is it Laura—asks as she approaches me. She has long red fingernails that are pointed at the tip. They look like claws, and they’re not attractive. Not to me. She’s got a red Solo cup in her hand, and from the smell of her, she’s long past tipsy.
“No, thanks. The guys and I are strategizing for the big game.”
“Oh, come on. I’ll make it worth your while,” she slurs.
“Tommy,” I call out to the freshman who’s walking by. “Lisa needs a dance partner.”
“Lori,” she corrects me.
Tommy’s eyes are wide and unsure. “Tommy here will take good care of you. Show her what you’ve got,” I tell him.
He nods, offers her a grin and his arm. She mumbles something incoherent under her breath, but takes his arm, leaning her weight on him. She’s toasted, and sex with drunk girls isn’t on my radar.
“You know,” Levi says, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were either already taken or had your eye on someone.”
“She’s way past drunk. I don’t want to spend my night taking care of her. Tommy can have that privilege.”
“What if it were Reese?” he asks, nodding toward where she stands. Her red Solo cup is poised at her lips, and her head is tilted back.
“Reese is different,” I say, turning to look at him.
He nods. “Good, but it looks like you’re off the hook.”
My head whips around so fast I could have whiplash. Sure enough, Scott Southerland is standing behind her with his hands on her hips. Scott is the brother of one of the seniors, Sam, who is the back-up kicker. He’s been to a few of our parties. Tonight, however, he’s gone too far. I toss my water bottle in the trash and put one foot in front of the other until I reach her.
“Coop!” she says loudly.
Her eyes are glassy from the cheap beer, and her smile is wide. “I missed you.” She throws her arms around my neck, stepping out of his hold. I pull her close, my hand resting possessively on the small of her back.