Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Again, I don’t hate the attention.
I’m a flirt by nature, and I like being a part of the reason others have a good time. Most call me the party boy, the good time guy, and let’s be real, I’m both those things. From what I hear, my roster is longer than Casanova’s.
If they only fucking knew.
I smirk, nodding at my boy Xavier when he walks by, and head into the locker room. I’m tearing my bag off the shelf when fuckhead across from me shuffles in, his face paler than his usual pasty-ass self.
“What’s up, man,” he mumbles, pulling shoes from his bag.
“You’re blood alcohol level by the looks of it.” I glance his way as I tug my bag over my shoulder, deciding I’ll shower back at the dorm since I don’t have class until eight. “Looks like you could use a few hours in the sauna.” I go to walk past him but pause to meet his eye. “Not that that will do you any good. Karma never gets it wrong.”
Alister glares and I bump his shoulder as I walk past, frowning at the door ahead.
I hate being an ass to my teammates—it fucks with the team dynamics—but I can’t find it in me to be nice to the guy. Not now.
He fucked with my friends, and in my book, that means he fucked with me.
If his ex-girlfriend carried her lie any further, it might have messed things up between Mason and Payton, and that would have broken my best friend. His girl and the family he’s created with her and her son—no, their son—are his entire world now, and Alister threatened that by acting like a child about everything instead of coming at him like a man should. You just don’t fuck around when there’s a child involved. To top off the asshole sundae, he went and used our kindhearted Cameron to try and get to him.
I know the girl is fierce. Hell, she’s a handful of a woman on her off days, forever keeping us boys on our toes, but she’s dreamed of opening a day care or running a kindergarten program for years, and while she hasn’t said what it was—at least not in front of us guys—something happened our senior year of high school that pushed her determination to reach her goals even further. And he threatened that by messing with her head and altering her focus. She nearly failed her finals that semester.
The girl might be hell on wheels, but at the same time, she’s soft as the sunset. Shit, she cries at those car commercials during the Super Bowl.
That dickhead made her cry—even if she didn’t allow us to see it, I know it’s true. I told that fucker to stay away from her, and as far as I’ve heard, he’s finally getting the hint. Thank fuck for that, ’cause as much as I’d enjoy doing it, I’d hate to have to kick his ass.
A scoff leaves me, and I smile as I push out the double doors, stepping out into the early morning sun.
That’s a fucking lie if I ever told one.
I’d thoroughly enjoy getting to kick Alister Howl’s ass.
And we’re not going to think about why the thought alone brings me satisfaction.
What is it they say, ignorance is bliss? I’m sure it is up until the day you’re blindsided by the truth you never saw coming, because once you know the truth, there’s no turning back.
No forgetting or letting go.
After that it’s just the truth…and the lies you’re forced to tell yourself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cameron
“If it isn’t the ultimate boy toy.”
Brady spins around, his grin wide and devilish. “I take it you got my picture this morning, Sleeping Beauty?”
“I like to think I’m more of Merida, little wild, little out there, hates to do what she’s told. And what were you trying to do, give a girl a quivery clit first thing in the morning?”
Someone fights a laugh, and I lean to the side just as Brady moves one foot to the right, revealing another guy from the team, Fernando, I think his name is, standing there.
I feel my face start to flame and purse my lips. “Well…okay, so this is your fault.” I glare at Brady.
His smirk grows and he puts a hand over his heart. “My fault? Pray tell, princess.”
“You can’t just…stand there and hide people behind your big-ass shield of a body. If I can’t see him, then I don’t know when to censor and keep my jokes to myself.”
“I vote never.” The guy raises his hand, and I scowl at him.
“Aw, come on,” Brady teases. “It’s not my fault I’m so…thick and long.” He fights a laugh.
His friend fails to do the same.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You know what? All right. Keep throwing those words out there, and I’m going to feel the need to call your bluff. Better think twice next time you wear drawstring bottoms to class, Brady Lancaster. You never know when you’re gonna find your pants around your ankles.”