The Player I Want to Keep (Elite Players #4) Read Online Jillian Quinn

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Elite Players Series by Jillian Quinn
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Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
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Chapter Two

KAT

Digging through my closet, I look for something decent to wear. I flip through hangers of jeans, sweaters, and long sleeve shirts. None of this will work.

Silvia, my roommate, strolls into my bedroom and stands behind me as I sift through my clothes. “You sure you don’t want to come with us to O’Shea’s?”

With my back turned to her, I shake my head. “Nope, I’m good. I promised Dean I would meet him and the twins at Delta Sig.” I spin around after I’ve exhausted my pointless search. “What do you even wear to a frat party? Are jeans and a tee okay?”

She shakes her head. “I doubt you’d get through the front door dressed that way.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Really? What’s wrong with jeans?”

“You can wear jeans, but you’ll need a sexy shirt.”

I snicker at her comment. “Me in something sexy? Please, who are you kidding?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to dress like a girl for once. Besides, I bet Dean wouldn’t mind seeing you in something tight and showing too much skin.” She winks as she says the last part. “Dean hasn’t missed a game all season,” Silvia says, handing me a pair of skinny jeans from my closet.

Silvia Clark has been my best friend since middle school. We moved from Chicago to Philadelphia together to attend Strickland University. She’s also annoying the hell out of me right now with her comments about Dean. But I still love her.

“So, what’s the big deal if he comes to my games?” I take the jeans from her and slip into them. “Dean’s my best friend.”

She plops down on my mattress with an irritated groan and snorts. “And what am I? Dog shit?”

I quickly button my pants and change into a black tank top before spinning around to face her. “You’re both my best friends,” I shoot back. “Stop acting like a weirdo.”

“I’ve known you way longer than Dean has,” she points out.

I frown at her comment. “It doesn’t matter. You’re my best girlfriend, and Dean is my best guy friend. How about that?”

“All I’m saying is Dean Crawford is a major fanboy. He follows you around campus like a lovesick puppy dog. And he’s hot. So, I would understand if your tongue ended up in his mouth.”

“He doesn’t follow me around,” I challenge. “Dean’s just… protective of me.” I cock an eyebrow at her. “And did you just say he’s hot?”

She gives me a wicked grin in the mirror as I fix my long, blond hair that’s still damp from the shower. “You know he’s hot, babe. Dean’s one of the hottest guys on campus. And he likes you as more than a friend. It’s impossible for men and women to just be friends.”

I laugh at her comment. “Like you have much experience with being friends with a guy. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She rolls her shoulders. “I know plenty of people who’ve given it a shot and ended up in bed together. You and Dean could be another statistic.” She winks. “I’m sure he’s a lot of fun if you know what I mean.”

Rolling my eyes at her, I leave my bedroom in search of my wristlet. “I’m happy Dean and I have proved your theory wrong, then,” I say from our shared living room.

“You never know, it could happen.”

Checking under couch cushions, I groan in frustration. “We’ve been friends since freshman year, and Dean’s never made a move.”

“Not yet,” she says from behind me. “But it’s bound to happen at some point.”

“Why are you putting these ideas in my head before I meet up with him?”

I find my wristlet under a couch cushion, holding it up with a victorious smile as a text message dings from the cell phone inside the leather case.

“Not like Dean will make you pay to get into the party.”

I shrug. “Maybe not but I hate when he pays for me. Money is tight for him and his mom. He works at Gio’s making pizzas at night just to send money home. He doesn’t have it easy like us.”

“I like that Dean is old school,” she says. “Guys are into Dutch dating now. So few men still offer to pay anymore.”

“One,” I say, raising a finger, “Dean is not my boyfriend. And two,” I say, adding another, “I don’t think all men make you pay for yourself on a date. Just the cheap ones.”

She chuckles, sweeping her black hair over her shoulder. “Maybe I just need better taste in men.”

“Dean is off-limits,” I say before she can make another comment about him.

“Because he’s yours?” She gives me a sly smirk.

“No, Sil. Because he’s Dean. We don’t shit where we eat.”

“Ooh, that’s a pleasant picture you just painted.”

“We graduate in a few weeks. Dean will go back to Florida, and we’ll go back to Chicago to start our internships.”


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