Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Along with Luke, I was supposed to be the reason the Tempests would finally go from an average college team to one that people paid attention to, on a national scale.
A lot riding on my shoulders.
What I needed was to blow off steam.
I needed to hook up with someone tonight.
After all, I said I was only good at one thing, and it was football…
But I was good at two things.
The other one was thinking with my dick.
“Peachel!” one of our linebackers said as I was finishing getting dressed. “Bar time. Let’s go.”
“I was just going to head home.”
“No you’re not,” Luke called from behind him, appearing at the edge of my locker. “If you go home, you’re going to drink there, and wallow about losing the game.”
“I hate it when you’re right.”
He pinched my arm. “Let’s go. The Hard Spot has a margarita sampler. You can’t resist that.”
Nah.
What I actually couldn’t resist was the idea of finding someone hot to hook up with.
Thinking with my dick wasn’t so bad, usually.
Now that I wasn’t dating Coach’s son anymore, I was free to play with any cute guy I could find in the bar tonight.
“I’m ready to sample a whole bottle of tequila,” I told him.
“That’s the spirit. Jacob’s the designated driver. Drink your heart out.”
When we got to the Hard Spot, the guys had joked and laughed with me enough that I finally started to feel a little normal again.
The bar was packed.
The music was good.
I got a good margarita in my hand and scanned the room for hot guys.
But when Luke led me over to the big corner table, I knew I was already fucked.
Gray Gilman was already there.
“Andrew,” Gray said. His voice was deep, cutting right to my core.
He was sitting at the corner table with a drink in hand, looking at me like he’d been waiting for my arrival.
He has to come out to the goddamn bar with us, too?
“Gray.”
“I’ve been meaning to introduce myself,” he said, “but it seems like you already know who I am. I’m going to be writing about the Tempests.”
Get.
The fuck.
Out of my life.
I reached out to shake his hand. It felt like shaking hands with a ticking time bomb.
His eyes were even prettier when he was this close. I’d always had a thing for dark hair combined with light blue eyes. Sucked that the movie-star looks had to be wasted on someone like him.
“For the Homecoming edition of the TNU Weekly,” I said. “I know.”
“Good.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to stop myself.
But I couldn’t.
“Bet you can’t wait to be a dick to every single member of my team,” I blurted out.
Fuck. Too far, already. Slow your roll.
Gray’s eyes widened, just slightly. I was glad Luke had stepped away to a pool table nearby, so he didn’t have to see me with my claws out.
“Be a dick to them?” Gray asked. “All I want to do is get to know all of you.”
Yeah, you make it sound all innocent.
Get to know us, then fuck us over in a public paper.
“Because you always give such enthusiastic reviews of everything you write about.”
“I write about what I observe,” he said, holding my gaze. “No more, no less.”
He looked me up and down for a moment, and I felt like his eyes were pure fire over every inch of my skin.
He was very attractive, yes. But he also intimidated me in the way smart people always had.
I’d never been great with school.
Every single class was a challenge for me.
Guys like Gray used to snicker behind me in high school when I fucked up the answers as teachers called on me. My mind just went blank, when it came to academics. I could make the most complex things happen out on a football field, with focus sharper than a fucking razor, but…
In a classroom? I froze up. I panicked.
I swallowed. “Well, I’ve observed that you treat your subjects like they’re pawns to you, instead of treating them like human beings.”
“So you’re saying—”
“I’m saying you’re an asshole, Gray.”
Too far.
Definitely too far.
To my surprise, I saw a hint of disappointment on his face.
Or maybe it was just his usual serious, self-important frown.
“Is that what you think?” he asked.
“I think you sit behind the lines, writing about things instead of actually doing them. The theater club? They actually put on plays. Create things. The basketball team is out there making things happen. And we are on the field, giving our blood and sweat to win games, but you’re probably going to nitpick our personal lives or write about some random things we say—”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen, Andrew.”
“Hell, maybe it’ll even be cheap gossip about my sexuality. That would be a real good one for your glorified tabloid rag, wouldn’t it?”
Gray’s expression shifted from dark and mysterious to being lighter, as if a stormcloud had finally passed by.