Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
He smirks. “Really? You think with a reputation like that, we’ll end up being drafted by the same team?”
“Who fucking knows,” I say, as an excited grin spreads wide across my face. “But it would be pretty fucking awesome.”
Chapter 7
Danielle
I sit with Sophie, sprawled out on our living room floor, as we work out the final details of our first Dragons’ article. I lay out three photos, two from their training sessions and the last being my personal favorite; the locker room shot.
“Which one do you think?” I ask, studying the pictures before me.
“Well, the article is going to be a little controversial, so I think we should go with the locker room one,” she tells me as she grabs a few fries, dips them in gravy, and devours them.
“How controversial are we talking?” I ask suspiciously.
She lets out a small laugh. “The title is ‘Pucker Up! The Dragons are Back!’ ”
“You’re not serious?”
“I’m dead serious. Their reputation sucks. We want to draw people in and get them to love the team again from the start, so why not have a little fun while we’re at it?”
“Okay, but do it nicely. We still want to make out like they are kings on campus.”
“Oh, so mentioning Jaxon’s threesome with the Titty Twins wouldn’t be the way to go?”
“You’re such an idiot,” I laugh. “Put something in there about the upcoming calendar.”
“Already on it, babe.”
Twenty minutes later, after putting the finishing touches on our article and emailing it off to Professor Whitaker, I hop up and make my way into the kitchen. I rifle through the fridge until my eyes land on the pretty bottle that promises me a relaxing night. I pour us both a very full, well-deserved glass of wine and make my way back into the living room.
“Oh, for me?” Sophie asks as her big blue eyes widen in excitement.
“Mmhmm,” I smile, passing the glass.
“Alright, spill . . . you only give me wine when you’re fishing for information,” she laughs as she packs away her laptop.
“You know me so well,” I laugh. “But you’ve got to tell me what the hell is going on between you and Tank. You’ve broken your one rule. No. Repeat. Performances.”
“I know,” she groans, draining her glass and hopping up off the ground. She heads into the kitchen and brings the whole bottle back with her, sits down, and refills her glass. She lets out a breath and focuses her attention on me. “I have no fucking idea what’s going on.”
I give her a wide grin. “I think you like him.”
“No, it’s just sex,” she argues. “Really good sex. Sex so great, I couldn’t help but go back for seconds,” she says, lifting her glass to her lips.
“Right. So, if he were to jump in bed with someone else, it wouldn’t bother you?”
“Nope, not at all,” she says, avoiding eye contact. “Are you interested? Do you want to get your hands on that monster?”
“What?” I screech, spitting wine all over our cream carpets. “No, I have my hands full trying to keep Miller at bay.”
“Chill out, I’m joking,” she laughs as I do my best to mop up my spilled wine with the edge of my shirt. “But to answer your question, I really don’t know. Maybe I like him or maybe I just like getting with him, I’m not sure.” She takes another long drink and then smirks back at me. “When you said you have your hands full with Miller . . . Did you mean literally, or figuratively? I mean, your hands would be extremely full with that one.”
I can’t help but laugh as she raises her eyebrows in curiosity. “I saw it when he dropped his towel in the locker room and felt it pressed up against my ass at his party. And let me tell you, anybody who has their hands around that would definitely have full hands. But no, I meant figuratively, and you know it.”
“Seriously? What’s stopping you? He’s clearly into you, and it’s pretty damn obvious you like him too. Match made in heaven,” she says, already going in for another refill. “Just do it already so you can come back and tell me how good it was.”
“God, Sophie, put down the wine,” I laugh. Only instead of putting it down, she tops off my glass. Clearly a long night is in store. “And no, you know why I can’t get involved with him. He’s not the relationship kind of guy, and I’m not ready to get trampled by another loser looking for a good screw.”
“Come on, already. You know what they say, right?” she smirks and waits for me to give her my undivided attention. “The only way to get over a guy is to get under another.”
“You know my problem isn’t getting over Brett, right?”