How to Win the Girl (Campus Legends #2) Read Online Sara Ney

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Campus Legends Series by Sara Ney
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
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Little brother. Ha.

“I heard that, and I’m taller than you.”

“By half an inch.”

“Same size as your cock.”

Duke laughs. “Why do you have to insult my manhood?”

I change the subject so we’re not on the phone the entire time talking about dick size and whose is bigger.

“I wanted to ask how you knew you liked Posey.”

“I don’t know. I knew she aggravated me to no end before I knew I loved her. Why, you think you’re in love with someone?”

“No! I just want to make sure I’m ready for this ’cause if I fuck this up, she’ll have my nuts in a vise.”

That makes my brother laugh. “Ahh, she’s one of those girls. A ballbuster, eh? Figures. Seems like we all have a type.”

Strong, independent females? Sounds about right.

“Listen, I have to go, but if I had any advice to give—which I don’t. Not really. It’s to stop overthinkin’ things. Go with your gut. It’s never steered you wrong.” He pauses. “Except that one time you let your gut trade those really expensive sneakers Mom had gotten you for a Nerf dart gun.”

“Oh jeez, I forgot about that.”

Mom was so pissed off when she found out—and found out by accident—that I’d traded a kid at school my three hundred dollar shoes for a twenty-five dollar toy.

“What time’s your date?” Duke asks.

“Half hour. I gotta go pick her up, we’re goin’ to dinner.”

“What kind of dinner?”

“Nicest place I could find around here. Steak place just outside of town, by a lake.”

“La di da—don’t you let her go fallin in love with you so soon.”

“Her name is Daisy, and she put me on a sex ban. Says she wants me to get to know her so our relationship isn’t just physical.”

It sounds like he’s nodding. “Yeah, been there, done that.”

“How’d it work out for you?”

“We’re livin’ together now, and we’re talkin' ’bout babies, so how do you think it’s workin’ out for me?”

If my eyes weren’t glued to my skull, they’d be half out of their sockets.

“Babies. Shit, does Mom know that?”

“That’s a conversation for a different day and don’t you go flappin’ your jaws to her about it.”

“Yeah yeah, do I look like I was born yesterday?”

“Yup.”

“Shut up, douche.”

Eventually, he had to cut the call short, being interrupted by what sounded like a coach or a staffer. We told each other love yous and that we wouldn’t wait so long between calls, but you know how that goes.

Daisy is ready when I get there, half out of the door before I’m out of the truck, clicking down the sidewalk, teetering on summery high-heeled wedges, wearing the sexiest, prettiest white dress.

Holy shit, she’s gorgeous.

Simple and gorgeous, my eyes drinking in those long legs—they look like they’ve been shaved and tanned, her skin glowing.

Smooth.

Everything about her legs looks smooth, and I already want to touch them, my empty hands floundering as she approaches.

“I didn’t bring flowers,” I blurt out stupidly.

This isn’t prom, for fuck’s sake, and this isn’t a fancy occasion. We’re going to a damn dinner—but it sure feels like our first romantic date, and I should have fucking gone to the store and gotten her a bouquet.

I’m a dumbass. What can I say?

“It’s the thought that counts.” She laughs, stopping in front of me.

“A thought I didn’t think of.”

“Well.” Daisy has a handbag in her hands, clutched between her fingers and holding it in front of her body. She looks dainty and pretty, the freckles on her nose popping against her fresh-faced skin.

“You look very pretty.”

Her head dips. “Thank you. You look nice.”

Only because I stole one of the shirts from Drew’s closet. I had Ryann help me pick out a shirt, she hemmed and hawed over a blue button-down collared shirt and a polo, furiously debating over the two as if I were headed to a televised sports awards.

She chose the polo shirt, citing the day of the week and our early-ish reservations. She also suggested I get a tattoo on my arm, but that was irrelevant and didn’t help my nerves whatsoever.

Already she acts like a sibling.

Pain in my ass…

We’re quiet most of the way to the restaurant. I’m conscious of Daisy’s perfume and how she smells, and her hand resting on the center console of the truck.

Eventually, I take it, folding hers into mine.

If I thought I was nervous the last time I saw her, this feeling inside my stomach is thirty times worse. This should be no big deal. We already know we like each other, and we already know we get along.

So what’s different?

She’s all dressed up for once. That’s the difference. Usually when we’ve been hanging out, it’s more casual so we’ve been playful. This side of Daisy is sexy—the kind of low-key sexy she was at the fraternity party when I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, or my hands. But classy. Nor could I keep my face from between her legs. Some things you just cannot help.


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