Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
All the air surges out of my body, and I bend over to catch my breath.
He’s not stopping and comes right back at me. I duck under his next punch, which was intended for my face.
“Too slow,” I mutter.
He swings wide over my head, and I counter with an uppercut directly under his jaw. His head snaps back, his eyes pure evil when he focuses back on me. His leg kicks out at me and hits my shin.
Pain ricochets through me, and my teeth grit.
“You trying to injure me where it counts, huh? Asshole,” I call out, rushing him and landing my fist in his stomach like he did to me.
He gasps and clutches his waist.
Feeling someone behind me, I swirl around and face his buddies, but they step off.
“Whoa, whoa, we’re done,” they say, hands up, eyes wide. “Don’t want any trouble.”
“You better be. That shit isn’t fair,” I bite out.
Archer has straightened and wipes blood off of his lip.
“This is over,” I snap, pushing past him. “Let it go.”
“Not for me.” He grabs my shoulder and slams me into a locker.
I rub the arm that took the brunt of the impact, and every logical thought in my head, the ones telling me I need to end this, click off. I wrap my hand around the thick gold chain around his neck and yank on it, forcing him to get back up in my face.
“You want to get me riled up, Archer? You’ve got no clue what I can do to you. It’s a conscious choice every single day to not slam my fist into your face.”
“What the hell?” shouts Coach Sanders as he bursts into the locker room. He scans the place in a heartbeat. “Are you two crazy?”
Archer puffs out his chest and shoves my hands off him. “He started it, Coach.”
“Not true. He threw the first punch, sir,” I say, shaking myself off. I don’t mention his buddies holding my arms.
His lips press together as he walks farther into the room. He waves his hands at the younger guys. “The rest of you have work to do. Get out of here.”
He grabs Archer and me by the arm and makes us sit on the bench. Leaning down, he gets in both of our faces. “This is bullshit, boys. Everything matters now. If you two start raining blows down on each other and that news gets back to the scouts, you’re fucked. Teams don’t want troublemakers in their locker rooms, and neither of you are special enough talents to convince them to overlook that. Grow up.” Looking straight at me, he adds, “Frankly, I’m disappointed, especially since so much is on the line.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, giving him a nod. “You’re right. I apologize.” To him. Not Archer.
Archer curls his lip. “Yes, sir.”
Coach says we can go, and when I stand up to leave, my eyes land on Archer’s face.
His snarl promises retribution.
Back off, my eyes say. I stalk past him.
12
That night, I arrive outside the library and take a deep breath. It’s a clear Mississippi night and the stars are out everywhere. The temps are above freezing, a perfect night for my study not-date with Charisma. I jogged over here with my backpack on, and now I’m wishing I hadn’t because I’m sweating slightly under my hooded tracksuit.
My heart races. Weird. I’m in the best shape of my life. A short run shouldn’t be a strain, but, hell, I know what’s got me pumping. It’s not my failure to smooze Cedrick or my fight with Archer.
It’s me and her in the library. Alone.
With textbooks, I remind myself.
Still…our first time was here, and I can’t get those images out of my head.
But that is over and done. Friends. Right, right.
A few students walk past me to go inside and I shake myself, realizing I’ve been standing here a little too long.
Pulling out my phone, I take a quick selfie with a nice stoic expression. It’s ridiculous, but I do it anyway. I look the picture over and run my hand through my hair. “Needs just a slight more mess to it,” I mutter.
I reach down and adjust my snug jogging pants, pushing them down just a little to show more of my hip bones and checking to make sure that if I raise my hands to the right level, both my sweatshirt and T-shirt rise enough to reveal the bottom layers of my six-pack. Yep, there’s a bruise there from Archer’s punch, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
Satisfied, I inhale a deep breath and walk into the library.
Charisma stands just inside the door next to the staircase. “That took you long enough.”
I feel the flush starting at my neck and rising to my cheeks. Goddamn I’m an idiot. And all this red face shit—she’s the only girl who gets to me like that.