Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
And as the clock ticks down on my college career, the more excited I get about it.
Coming to Franklin U was the best decision Brady and I ever made. The campus is amazing, the beach is right across the street, the football facilities are state-of-the-art, and the team is treated like kings.
Literally.
The FU Kings are the best damn football team on the western seaboard, and we’ve played in two out of three championship games since I became first-string quarterback. We even managed to take home the title in one of them.
It’s safe to say my life is right on track.
I cross the street to enter Shenanigans, a bar that is always filled with college kids, and head straight for the table where my brother is sitting with his best friend, Felix.
As I walk by Tyson Langley, I purposefully bump into him. He’s a lacrosse player, and our school is notorious for our friendly rivalry between the sports. It’s all fun and games, though, and as he flips me the bird, I pretend to catch it and put it in my pocket.
Then I grab a stool and park my ass next to my brother.
“You’re late,” Brady says.
“I had to say hello to all my adoring fans.”
Brady rolls his eyes at me.
“Hey, when you’re my agent, you’re going to have to do something about my security. Hire me some bodyguards.” I’m only half-joking. Brady’s studying sports management, and he’s planning to go to law school so he can be like our uncle. Brady will take over from Uncle Damon one day, and he’ll be my agent. I haven’t officially signed anything yet because the NCAA would kick me out faster than you can say “career over,” but it’s a given my uncle is going to represent me while Brady builds up his client list.
Felix laughs at my dramatics.
I point at him but talk to Brady. “At least someone finds me funny.”
“It’s because he wants to get into your pants,” Brady says.
“Excuse me. I used to want to get into his pants. I’m a taken man now.”
“Shame.” I wink at him jokingly.
A curl from Felix’s copper locks falls in his face. “How is this fair? I get a boyfriend, and now your brother flirts with me?”
“He’s fucking with you,” Brady says. “Like I already told you many times, he tried dick in high school, and he didn’t like it.”
And yet, four years later, he’s still bringing it up. It’s the only time I let myself think about Levi Vanderbilt.
“I may have popped that cherry first, but Brady here is the one who turned out to be full-blown homo.” I snicker. “Get it? Full-blown?”
“You’re still not funny,” Brady says.
“Whatever. I’m fucking hilarious. Now, where’s my drink?”
“You were late, so I drank it.” Brady shrugs. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“I have no brother,” I mutter as I get up to go to the bar.
I order a beer, and the bartender doesn’t even scan my wrist for a band because Casey knows me. We hooked up on my twenty-first last year. And a couple more times after that. But there was no bad blood when it stopped.
Everyone on campus knows my priority is football, my future is football, but to make that happen, I don’t have the time to focus on a relationship.
I have one rule when it comes to hookups: jersey chasers are a no-go zone. They’re the ones who are trying to lock down an NFL-bound player before they’re famous. My go-to hookups are with girls who have their own focused goals. Casey is premed, and between studying and tending bar, she wasn’t interested in anything more either. It meant getting together was infrequent, but I’d rather have dry spells than lead people on. I’m not that guy.
Casey hands over my beer, and I take out my wallet to pay, but she waves me off. “I’m in a generous mood.”
“You just want me to leave a big tip.”
“That too. I’m trying to save for med school, dude.”
I lean in and kiss her cheek while sliding a tenner over to her. “For you.”
“You’re the best.”
“I—” There’s movement behind her, on the other side of the bar. I catch sight of a familiar face. I think.
He turns and moves through the crowd too quickly for me to be sure, but I keep staring, trying to see past the mass of bodies to see if it was actually him or I was imagining it.
“You what?” Casey asks.
It can’t have been who I thought it was. I shake it off and train my gaze back to her. “I don’t know.”
She waves her hand in front of my face. “Are you having a stroke? Been sacked one too many times and have a head injury? Need me to check your vitals?”
I bat her hand away. “I thought I saw someone, that’s all.”