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)
“What’s the matter?” He reads the concern in my expression with ease.
“I’m sorry he said all that about you.”
Understanding dawns and he shakes his head. “Don’t stress on my behalf. People can say whatever they want about me. It doesn’t change anything.”
“How are you not bothered? I’m pissed.”
Brady smiles, tugging my hair gently. “Because it’s a bunch of bullshit, Cammie Baby. That’s how.”
I frown and he grins wider, motioning for me to sit, so I join the others on the picnic-style table.
Brady sits with one leg on either side of the bench seat, tucking me back into his chest, and whispers in my ear, “I’m gonna be so good at this fake-boyfriend stuff.”
I laugh as I settle into him, and I can’t help but look around the room with a smile.
This, right here, this is what we talked about for years.
It’s a random Thursday, we’re in a cafeteria sharing pound cake slices and nearly soggy sandwiches, but it’s exactly what we were looking forward to all our teenage years. I think it’s safe to say that junior year here at Avix University is guaranteed to be an interesting one.
The question I want the answer to the most, though?
How the hell is it going to end?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alister
It’s hilarious. Comical, really.
She could have chosen any other guy, and I might have believed her, but dating Brady Lancaster?
Yeah fucking right.
The man has his own harem, and Cameron isn’t the cleat-chaser type. There is no way she would be okay with being one of many. And there are many. I may not know him on a personal level, but I’m his teammate, and I have eyes.
On the flip side, I’m well aware of how close they are. They’ve been friends since they were in grade school, maybe longer. I’d have said Brady was like a brother or cousin to her if anyone asked why my girl was always hanging around another guy, but he sure as shit didn’t kiss her like he would agree.
I wonder if they’ve hooked up before.
I scoff to myself, shaking my head.
No. They’re just messing around, trying to discourage me by putting on a show.
It’s not going to work. I know it’s fake.
Cameron, while in tune with her sexuality and unashamed of it, doesn’t bounce around. The fact that she and I just recently hooked up tells me all I need to know.
This thing between them isn’t real.
All I have to do is wait it out, and if my assumptions are correct, I won’t be waiting long.
The guy has always had a girl chasing after him, he’s just charismatic like that, but this season it’s doubled with the help of the Secret Shark. They come to him in flocks, his name and number painted all over their bodies, and I mean all over.
I’ve never been to a single party, at the football house or otherwise, where he’s been in attendance when he didn’t take the offer of at least one of them.
I’m not saying he’s a womanizer, but he is definitely a women lover.
So while he tries to figure out what it even means to be someone’s boyfriend, pretend or not, I’m going to be Cameron’s friend. I’m going to use this time to take a step back and really get to know the girl the way I wish I would have in the beginning.
We pretty much jumped right into things. We flirted and danced around each other for a few weeks, and yes, a lot of that was because, at the time, I had no intention of finding out any single thing about her. It’s true, she was a means to an end, but that didn’t last long.
Our chemistry was instant. We fell into bed first, and the rest came after—or it was beginning to anyway.
My stomach turns, regret burning up my insides like acid, but it’s all good—or it will be because there is no way Brady is going to be able to stick to their little plan for long. He’ll find someone new he can’t say no to, and that will be that.
I bet he doesn’t make it through the week.
I step into the locker room, and three pairs of eyes snap my way, drawing a sigh from my lips.
Practice is going to be even more interesting now, that’s for damn sure.
Brady
The snap is made, and I throw my weight around, twisting my torso and tossing Kroger to the turf, hands shooting up and smacking the ball straight out of pretty boy’s hold, my shoulder pads knocking into his and sending him stumbling back.
Coach blows the whistle, and Alister spits out his mouthpiece opening his lips to pop off, but Chase shoulder-checks him as he gets back into position to run the play—or attempt to—for the third time.
The punk clenches his jaw, glaring at me, and I wink under my helmet, shimmying my way backward until I’m in position once more.