Campus Legends Series by Sara Ney – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Campus Legends Series by Sara Ney – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sat, 23 Sep 2023 20:10:41 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Campus Legends Series by Sara Ney – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 How to Score Off Field (Campus Legends #3) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/how-to-score-off-field-campus-legends-3-read-online-sara-ney Sat, 23 Sep 2023 20:10:41 +0000 https://www.booksnovels.com/how-to-score-off-field-campus-legends-3-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, College, Forbidden, New Adult, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Series: Campus Legends Series by Sara Ney
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)

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I, Drew Colter, have a confession to make… I ’m burnt out and need a break.
From school, from football—from living with roommates, my obnoxious twin brother and our older brothers girlfriend. The only person who I can talk to these days is my best friend from high school, and he’s back in our hometown and halfway across the country. Somehow he convinces me that maybe…

…Maybe it’s time to take a trip. Party. Have some fun.

That fun does not include his sister .

Long black hair and even longer legs, Tess Donahue had lost the braces and gained the confidence she never had as a teenager. She’s hilarious, pretty—and when I see her in those cowboy boots?

Whoa.

Stolen glances. Flirty banter. One drunk filled night.

Suddenly, my uncomplicated weekend of ‘ living a little’ in my hometown becomes a lifetime being tied to the one girl that was off limits.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

TESS

I was eleven years old the first time I met the Colter twins.

My brother Grady had been signed up to play league football because our mom didn’t think he socialized enough, and she was sick of him sitting in his room, gaming all the time.

She wanted him to get exercise.

And meet people.

So that third week of football, she invited all the players over for a pizza party, and I remember the team arriving, one by one, getting dropped off by their parents for the two hours my mother had arranged—and I remember the Colters walking through the door.

Tall, even at the age of thirteen.

Tan from always being outside.

One was quiet and had braces; the other was talking and being loud as soon as he stepped foot in the kitchen where the pizza was being served.

I’d been on the other side of the room, hovering in the doorway where the laundry room was, too intimidated by all the teenage boys to grab a slice of my favorite—cheese, sausage, and pineapple. Mom had ordered it specifically for me, knowing most of the boys wouldn’t want pineapple on their pizza, but I was too chickenshit to steal a piece.

“Who’s that?” one of them asked. I can’t remember who.

Grady had looked in the direction of the kid’s finger, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Oh. That’s my sister.”

Oh.

That’s my sister…

But I mean, I was his little sister, and I was kind of small at that age. And shy.

I remember that once they’d all lost interest in staring at me, and they’d gone back to devouring the pizzas, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the twins.

They were so cute.

Literally the cutest boys I’d ever seen in my entire life.

My face turned bright red as soon as the one in the gray tee shirt scanned the small group of boys and caught my eye in the corner, smiling after a few seconds of awkward staring.

I was too freaked out to smile back.

That had been Drew.

I found out his name later—the one with the braces—and lay in bed that whole night, staring up at my bedroom ceiling while saying it to myself. Drew.

Drew Colter.

I wondered what his middle name was.

He was the quiet Colter, who didn’t have much to say about anything unless asked. He usually let his louder, more obnoxious brother speak for them, as twins sometimes do.

And I watched number twenty-nine at every game of my brother’s that I went to, silently clapping when he blocked a play or took a hit and got back up on his feet without a scratch.

Drew Colter.

Sigh.

When I was fourteen, and we were all in high school, I prayed every day that I would bump into him in the hallway between classes. But we rarely did because freshmen and juniors didn’t have class on the same floors, and everything was separated by wings. Freshmen ate with freshmen, sophomores ate with sophomores, and on and on and on.

Then one day when I was eating lunch, there was a commotion at the front of the cafeteria near the vending machines, and a small group of football players walked in, wearing their home jerseys and carrying flyers.

Drew Colter was among them.

I knew it was him instantly. He didn’t have the same arrogance his brother Drake had, and he hung back from the group the way he usually did.

I watched as the boys walked around from table to table, handing out those flyers, smiling down at the pretty girls and flirting.

“Oh my god, they are so. Hot.”

My friends Charity, Bev, and Tosha stopped cackling about whatever story Charity had been sharing to stare, all of us holding our breath as the football players weaved in and out, like gods among us, for football was the only thing anyone in this town gave a shit about.

Three tables away.

Two.

“Hey, Tess.” Drew handed me a flyer with a smile, my name on his full, pouty lips, his white teeth peeking through.

I opened my mouth to reply, but they were already gone.

“Oh. My. God,” Charity said dramatically. “Drew. Colter. Said. Your. Name.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending to be unfazed. “I’m Grady’s sister. He has to be nice to me.”

My brother and Drew had become fast friends that night after the pizza party three years ago, spending most of their downtime running plays, hanging out in our basement, or at Drew’s house, swimming in his pool.

The Colters lived on a ranch, and their dad was never around, but it was a sprawling house with a massive pool that even had one of those slides you see at the water park—it even had a pool house with a kitchen full of snacks.

I’d only been there once when the Colters hosted a party. Mrs. Colter had wanted help, so Mom dragged me over as an extra set of hands.

I’d refused to take my tee shirt and shorts off to get in the pool.

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Advertisement How to Win the Girl (Campus Legends #2) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/how-to-win-the-girl-campus-legends-2-read-online-sara-ney Thu, 01 Jun 2023 11:54:34 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/how-to-win-the-girl-campus-legends-2-read-online-sara-ney Genre: College, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Sara Ney 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)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >101

I, Drake Colter, solemnly swear I do not want a girlfriend…

Carefree and ridiculously good-looking, I have the entire student body eating from the palm of my hand—shouldn’t I let the ladies on campus have their fill rather than being tied down? If only my brother Drew would take notes from my playbook. As identical twins, we share the same voice, the same face, and the same physique; it’s virtually impossible to tell us apart—but that’s where the similarities end.

Lately, my brother has been whining about wanting to settle down with. He longs for affection, companionship and all the bullshit that goes along with it blah blah blah. Problem is, he’s hopeless when it comes to dating. It’s seriously embarrassing to watch, considering we’re identical; everyone thinks I’m him and everyone thinks he’s me.

Luckily I’m not intimidated by women and have plenty of experience. I might not want to find myself a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help him. Dude never needs to know!

And that’s the very thing that lands me in trouble…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

prologue

Drake Colter

I’m strong, cocky, motivated and I don’t put up with shit.

Think you can handle me?

“Would you please stop doing that?”

The girl in front of me is turned around in her desk chair and giving me the stink eye, gaze trained on the pen in my hand.

“Stop what?”

I’m not doing anything.

“Stop twirling that pen and clicking the top. It’s driving me nuts.”

“You mean this?” I give it another twirl between my fingers before letting it hit the hard surface of the lecture hall desktop, rolling my eyes at the back of her head when she huffs, once again facing the projector board in the front of the room.

Good lord.

Talk about uptight.

“Don’t sit here next time if you don’t like it,” I mutter loud enough for her to hear.

She turns around again. “Excuse me? I have a right to sit through a class without being distracted.” She looks me up and down. “Some of us are here to learn.”

Dude.

That’s so unfair—I’m here to learn, too. Mostly. It’s not my fault I have a hard time sitting still in class and even a harder time listening to what the professor up front is saying. Don’t get me wrong, I do my best to focus. If this was one of my football coaches lecturing, I’d be a captive audience.

I’d have half a clue what was going in front of the room. But this professor and her assistant keep yammering on and on about atoms and particles and why am I in this class to begin with? Science isn’t my major, Business Economics is.

I don’t know nothing about fission and neutrons nor do I care to. This class is a core requirement and one I couldn’t opt out of. I put off taking it two years in a row, so here I am, taking it as a junior.

Funsies.

I eyeball the chick eyeballing me.

“You don’t even know me.”

Her eyes narrow. “I know enough.”

She turns back around so I’m staring at the back of her head.

“You sure told me off,” I mutter again, this time infusing an irritated laugh ’cause she don’t know shit about who Drake Colter is.

Just because she’s seen my face around and knows who I am does not mean she knows a single thing about me.

Hell, for all I know she thinks I’m my brother, although if she did think I was Drew she may not be shooting me gamma-ray style glares meant to penetrate my soul.

See, I’m a twin, and people confuse us all the time, though, to me, our differences are obvious.

Where I am outgoing, Drew is more subdued.

Nice.

Where I speak my mind and say whatever, Drew carefully chooses his words.

His hair is dark; mine is dark.

He has freckles; I have freckles.

He’s tall; I’m tall.

He’s single; I’m single.

When I look in the mirror, I literally see my brother’s face. Like I said, we’re twins.

Identical twins.

Yeah, it can be aggravating, but it’s also really fucking cool being connected to another human the way I’m connected to Drew, our bond unbreakable.

I love that boring son of a bitch.

I’m just not sure I love being mistaken for him every now and again, same way I’m sure he hates being mistaken for me.

After the professor at the front of the class dismisses us early, I pack up my shit and hightail it out of there, not bothering to give the girl a second glance. She’s obviously not worth my time or the headache of an apology. Besides, it’s not a crime to twirl a fucking pen. Jeez, lady, chill.

Whistling to myself when my feet hit the concrete steps of the stairs outside of the building, I lift my gaze to the sky and drink in the fresh air.

“Ahhh.”

I stretch, arms above my head, and feel the air tickling my gut when the hem of my tee shirt raises.

Did I say gut? I meant rock-hard abs.

Where to now? Home?

The gym?

The world is my oyster now that the football season is over; I finally have free time on my hands and no obligation to do anything but work out, train, and stay in shape.

I pat my stomach, running a hand across the bare skin there as my eyes scan the courtyard, settling on a group of sorority girls gathered not twenty feet away.

“Well, hello, ladies.”

One by one, they notice me watching; all of them preen and fluff, each of them hopeful my eyes will land on them. Blond hair, black hair, brunette…tall, short…big boobs, flat chested…

So many flavors to choose from.

A lazy smile tilts my lips as I take my first lazy step down the stairs.

One of them gasps.

It’s good to be a legend on this campus, even if Miss Salty Pants back in class doesn’t appreciate the appeal.

Yes, it’s good to be a Colter.

Pretty damn good...

one

drake

Dating is like pushing your tray along in the school cafeteria. Nothing looks good but you feel pressure to put something on it by the time you make it to the cashier.

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Advertisement How to Lose at Love (Campus Legends #1) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/how-to-lose-at-love-campus-legends-1-read-online-sara-ney Fri, 20 Jan 2023 22:15:21 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/how-to-lose-at-love-campus-legends-1-read-online-sara-ney Genre: College, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Series: Campus Legends Series by Sara Ney
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)

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I needed a good girl to save my bad reputation.

With too much on my plate, the very last thing on my mind was a relationship—the football draft was looming and dating got in the way. I never understood why my teammates bothered with girlfriends. None of us had the time.

When my sports agent suggested that being seen in public with a respectable girl would be good for my bad reputation, I couldn’t think of a single person to help me out. The only girls I knew weren’t wifey material, and the ones who were? Might catch feelings.

Except Ryann Winters.

Responsible. Sarcastic. Smart. Ryann was perfect but there was one clincher: she was my teammates ex-girlfriend and I had recently been paid by him to dump her.

Not the best start to a fake relationship…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

one

dallas

“The best way to start a relationship is not to start one at all.”

– Dallas Colter

“I don’t mean to sound like a cynic, but why are you datin’ her to begin with?”

With my foot up on the locker room bench—the one directly in front of my cubby—I glance over at my teammate Diego, who’s standing beside me, his hands poised to grab the padding around his shoulders. He’s keen to spill his guts about some girl he’s dating, something about breaking up with her and blah blah fucking blah I don’t have time for his bellyaching.

His face is scrunched up like he didn’t understand the question.

“Why am I dating her to begin with?” He shrugs. “I dunno. I thought we’d have a ton of sex and it would be more fun.”

“Fun? Banging the same chick all the time?”

Honestly, I’m not banging anyone at all, so it’s not as if I have any room to talk.

But still.

That’s beside the point.

I finish tying my sneakers, then rise to my full height. Smack Diego on his uniform chest plate with a smirk.

“I said I thought we’d have tons of sex—I didn’t say we were having tons of sex.”

“And how’s that workin’ out for you? Your dick fall off yet?”

“It’s not working out.” He pulls at the waistband of his shorts and takes a look down the front. “And no, it hasn’t.”

“Why ain’t it workin’ out?”

Diego follows me to the drinking fountain where I intend to fill up my water bottle. He’s like a stray puppy who’s lost his way—or a pestering fly that won’t quit dive-bombing me.

Too bad I can’t swat the bastard away.

“There’s no chemistry.”

That sounds like a him problem, not a Dallas problem.

Still, I humor the guy, raising a brow, feigning interest. “Shouldn’t you have realized there was no chemistry after your first date?”

I’m no expert, but that part seems obvious.

“How the hell should I know? I’ve never had a girlfriend before!” His voice has risen an octave, panic across his brow.

“You’ve never had a girlfriend before?”

“No.”

Now why on earth does this fact surprise me? It shouldn’t. Lots of my teammates haven’t had relationships. Being a serious athlete doesn’t leave much downtime, let alone time for dating.

Fucking, yes.

Dating, no.

“Yeah, me neither.” I scowl at him because he hasn’t left my side and insists on breathing down my neck. “How long have the two of y’all been together?”

“Two months.”

Two months? Is he being serious? That’s not a relationship. That’s…that’s…dating. Or ‘seeing each other’, as some people say.

I squint over at him. “And you’re sure she’s your girlfriend? That doesn’t seem like an awful long time. I got eggs in my fridge older than that.”

“You have eggs older than that? That’s actually disgusting.” Diego laughs, watching as I fill my water bottle.

I roll my eyes. “It was a metaphor.”

“Dude, are you going to help me or not?”

Without hesitating, I give him a firm “Not” before walking back to my cubby. I need to pack my shit up and get gone so I’m not late for my athletic trainer, Shelby, who hates it when I’m late. And I’m almost always late.

As I’m stuffing things in my bag, Diego gets even closer, encroaching on my personal space with his nonsense.

“You’re seriously not going to help me?”

“Help you with what?”

Here I am listening to his bullshit, the whining—what more does the dude want from me? I’m not a relationship counselor.

Glancing up, I catch sight of myself in the small mirror inside my cubby, the scruff covering my cheeks, jaw, and chin.

Damn, I need a shave.

On the other hand, it’s getting cold, and the fur on my face helps on those long walks to class.

On the other hand, I’m starting to look like a caveman.

Whatever.

Who gives a shit?

“I need help breaking things off with Ryann.”

This gives me pause. “Her name is Ryann?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s a guy’s name.”

Diego rolls his eyes. “Can you focus for one second?”

“I’d focus if I gave two shits.”

“Dude, I’m your mejor amigo. You have to help me out.”

Whoa, where did that come from? The closest people I have as best friends are my brothers because family doesn’t fuck you over, and family doesn’t ask you to do things like break up with their girlfriend.

I’m Diego’s best friend? Since when? “Helping you out is one thing. Breaking up with a chick for you is another.” I heft my duffle over my shoulder. “Why are you bein’ so dramatic? Send her a text and be done with it. Also, stop callin’ me dude.”

Bein’ so dramatic…

I cringe hearing my Southern accent creeping in; it’s something I’ve been trying to lose, but man, when I get salty with someone, it tends to slip out.

“I told you…I’ve never had a girlfriend before.” His hands are splayed as he pleads with me.

I snort. Big deal if he’s never had a girlfriend before—as if that’s an excuse for being a dipshit. “I’m telling you it’s been two months and she’s not really your girlfriend. Just stop messaging her back. She’ll get the hint.” I walk toward the exit.

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