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)
Grabbing my phone, I fire off my game day texts to both Cooper and Levi. Two very different men, and two very different messages. However, they both mean the same thing. I’m thinking about you. Have a good game. My texts with Levi started our freshman year, and it’s something I’ve continued. And, Cooper, well, he’s been getting game day texts from me since we got our first cell phones for Christmas when we were twelve.
Me: Game Day: Squeeze into those tight spots.
I laugh out loud as I hit Send. Levi will get a kick out of that one. I try to make them sound as dirty as I can, but still give meaning to his position to the game. It’s been a challenge over the last three years, but one I’ve lived up to.
Me: Kick some ass out there today. We’re bringing home the win.
Cooper replies immediately.
Cooper: We’re celebrating tonight. Did you pack a bag?
Me: Yep. It’s in my car.
Cooper: See you after the game, Reese’s Pieces.
I can’t help but smile. He’s called me that since the day he met me. When I told him what my name was, he said, “Like the candy, Reese’s Pieces.” I, of course, said yes, and he’s been calling me that ever since. My phone pings, and it’s Levi.
Levi: It might be tight, but I’m sure I’ll be able to fit.
My face flames. His replies are always just as dirty, and sometimes more so than my own. I know he does it to make me uncomfortable, bring me out of my shell as he calls it. I can’t be mad, though. I’m the one who started it. Levi is a good guy. He’s a goofball, but that’s all a part of his charm.
“Where are your and Cooper’s parents sitting?” Tessa asks as I slide my phone into my back pocket. She and I just got to our seats—Cooper and Nixon were able to score us tickets on the fifty-yard line, five rows up. Our parents, however, are in a suite. They bought their tickets on their own.
“They have a suite. Coop’s dad’s work sponsored it, so they got their tickets super cheap.”
“That’s awesome. We should be up there with them.”
“What?” I ask, appalled. “And miss all of this.” I wave my hands around the stadium.
“I swear Cooper has made you into a football junkie,” she teases.
“Come on now. You know you love it.” I lean into her, and she grins.
“Fine. I love it. I love those pants my man wears too.” She wags her eyebrows.
“The pants are a bonus,” I admit.
“Oh, yeah, you got your eye on someone particular?” She looks at me knowingly.
“All of them.” I turn to look out over the field. “With the helmets on, they’re all my future husband,” I joke.
“Amen to that.” She holds up her hand for a high-five.
“Please, you’re practically married already.” She and Nixon have been going strong since our freshman year.
“Married women can look. Besides, I keep my eyes on Nixon more so than the others anyway. I can’t help it if another fine ass just happens to be in my line of sight.” She grins, proud of herself for the spin she was able to put on it.
“Right? Well, I can happily look at all the fine asses without shame or regret.”
“You might be able to, but we both know which ass you spend the most time looking at.” She bumps her shoulder into mine.
“Hey. You’re on the screen!” someone yells from behind us. I glance up, and sure enough, Tessa and I are on the jumbotron. We’re decked out in our CU gear. I have Cooper’s number on my cheek, and she has Nixon’s on hers. This isn’t the first time the media has put me in the spotlight. Last year after they won the championship, Tessa and I rushed to the field, and Cooper grabbed me and swung me in the air. He had me back on my feet and crushed to his side, already talking to a reporter before I could move away. She asked about us. He told her I was his best friend, then proceeded to kiss the top of my head. He was celebrating, with me, his best friend, but the world saw it as a romantic gesture. It’s not just our classmates who we have to continue to remind that we’re not together. When he gets drafted, and I know he will, that won’t be an issue. Sure, they might ask where I am at first, but once they see I’m not following, the world will know that Cooper Reeves is on the market. He told me it’s been nice. That the closer we get to his final year here at CU, the more the vultures come out. Once they run a story on us, it dies down. I guess in a way, I’m his beard. Too bad he can’t be mine; of course, my version is a hell of a lot dirtier than his.