Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Night, Donovan.
I fell asleep with a sappy smile on my face.
10
Kellan
I was sitting under a tree in the courtyard between buildings, trying to put last-minute touches on my oral presentation for my probability class. I was freaking out a bit—who knew why. It wasn’t like I didn’t have a comprehensive final coming up that would make or break me, while I already knew this presentation by heart.
I lifted my head and spotted a few players across the way, flanked as always by a group of fans. Well, to be fair, they weren’t all fans. Hollister’s girlfriend was in the mix, along with Girard’s, and they all traveled as a group, which drove me a little bonkers. So not my thing.
But I did pick up on one girl trying really hard to get Donovan’s attention and him being oblivious, and I wanted to make fun of him so bad, but instead I forced myself to refocus on my assignment.
When someone’s shadow stretched across my keyboard, I could’ve guessed it would be Donovan, and I refused to acknowledge how jittery my stomach felt whenever he was around. More than likely, my nervousness was about the assignment.
“What class is that?” he asked.
I looked up to see that his group had moved on and wondered why he’d stayed.
“Probability,” I replied. “You have another class?”
“Yeah, in thirty minutes. Nutrition.”
I looked at the soda in his hand and smirked. These guys ate so much junk food, it was a wonder they stayed in shape. Except I knew how hard they trained. Besides, I had no room to talk. “Bet those gummies aren’t on the professor’s recommended list.”
He laughed as he crushed the empty can and threw it in the receptacle.
“Hmm, maybe I need to stock the snack station at the clubhouse with something more nutritious. Lettuce, maybe?”
“Don’t you dare,” he replied, and I lifted an eyebrow in challenge.
He sank down beside me, resting his backpack on his knees. “Before you know it, we’ll have another season in the history books.”
“Right? At least then I can get some semblance of a life back.”
“You mean you actually have one?”
“It’s sort of slapped together with Scotch Tape, but I do all right.”
He chuckled, the dimple in his cheek more prominent, then said in a wistful tone, “Ricky will be glad to hang out more,” which made me think back to the game yesterday.
“He mentioned being enrolled in a space camp?”
“Yeah, guess Mom found it for him. Hope he loves it.”
“He’ll probably be running it by the end of summer, with all the trajectory calculations he was throwing at me.”
“That’s Ricky,” he said, and we both smiled, falling into a comfortable silence as I looked at my laptop again and he dug through his bag.
Something in my peripheral vision caught my attention. A guy and a girl on a bench, making out like they were long-lost lovers instead of a couple of college kids meeting up between classes.
“Ugh, look at those two,” I said, and Donovan followed my line of sight and grinned.
“You don’t want that for yourself someday?”
“What?” I smirked. “Humping someone on a public bench?”
“Well, yeah, if you’re into that kind of public display,” he replied, then cleared his throat, his gaze serious and penetrating. He actually wanted a real answer to his question, and that took me by surprise.
“Eh, maybe.” I looked away before his baby blues put some sort of magical spell on me. “Honestly, I’d want someone who’d hate on them with me. Now that’s a true relationship.”
Donovan burst into laughter, and I so enjoyed seeing the groove in his cheek again.
“They are pretty obnoxious,” he said, watching the couple grope each other. But he also had this shmoopy smile on his face I couldn’t look away from. Brady Donovan was trouble with a capital T.
I glanced at the time and started gathering my stuff. “Shoot, gotta go.”
“Good luck,” he called out as I strode away.
I was feeling pretty good after my presentation went off without a hitch, and thrilled when Jasmine agreed to have a night out. I pulled on a crop top to pair with my tightest jeans, then sprayed my bangs away from my forehead in a cool flip style so that my glittery eyeshadow would stand out better. If only the Pirates could see me now.
Or only one Pirate. Okay, I needed to thrust that thought from my brain. I was certainly no one’s teddy bear tonight—more like a vixen.
“You look amazing,” Jasmine said. She loved dancing at my favorite gay club because she claimed they had the best music. But she also enjoyed flirting with men and women alike, and that made her the best co-pilot on these kinds of evenings.
“So do you.” I kissed her cheek. She was wearing a short skirt that showed off her legs, lace-up boots, and a fitted shirt that made her cleavage look sexy AF. She’d have drag queens drooling and asking for tips.