“My arms are fine,” Carter protests, swatting his hand away. She’s not wrong. Her toned arms are golden brown from the summer sun and there’s nothing scrawny about them. “And if you touch me again,” she says, giving him a saccharine smile, “I might accidentally drop that book on your foot.”
I’m pretty sure she’s serious, but Coop just laughs and shakes his head.
“Now that I’d like to see.” Vaughn grins at Carter and extends his giant paw. She shakes it, looking only slightly intimidated by our token mountain man. “I’m Vaughn, by the way. Nice to finally meet you.”
“Same,” she says, although her stilted reply lacks the sincerity of Vaughn’s words.
“And that troublemaker over there is DJ Parker,” I say, nodding at the last of my roommates.
“S’up?” Parker lifts his chin in greeting.
“Hey,” Carter replies, grabbing a bag of trail mix from the pile of booty and tearing it open. She pops a handful in her mouth and chews ravenously. Two ounces of nuts does not a dinner make, so I toss another bag her way. It lands on her textbook, and Vaughn leans in for a closer look.
“Mechanical engineering, huh?” Vaughn studies her with new appreciation. “Tough major.”
“Damn, girl. You must be a brain,” Parker chimes in. “Me? I’ll take the soft subjects every day of the week.”
Yeah, right. Parker may be studying communications, but he’s no slouch. The guy’s super smart and could easily handle a more rigorous major, but it would be a waste of time since he’s hoping to work in sports broadcasting where he can put his charm to good use.
Carter shrugs, pretending it’s no big deal despite the telltale blush creeping up her neck. “It’s not so bad. I’ve always enjoyed STEM classes.”
“STEM?” Vaughn asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.
“Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math.” Carter opens her book not so subtly. It’s clear she’s done with the interview portion of the evening, but the guys aren’t letting up. I consider intervening but decide to keep my mouth shut. Getting to know one another on a personal level is an important part of team bonding and Carter could sure as shit use some friends on the team.
Besides, the guys are on their best behavior.
Parker grabs one of her notebooks—clearly not worried about the threat of a twelve-pound textbook—and holds it up for inspection. “So what’s the deal with your name anyway? Kennedy Carter? Your parents hoping to raise the first female president or what?”
Carter shifts in her seat, not meeting his gaze. Parker’s teasing is harmless, totally in good fun. Anyone who knows him would see that, but the thing is, Carter doesn’t know Parker. She doesn’t know any of us beyond her preconceived notions, which I’m pretty sure she’d sum up as douchebag football players.
As much as that attitude irritates the shit out of me, Carter’s part of the team. I owe her the same support I’d give any of the guys.
“Knock it off, Parker.” I grab the notebook and hand it back to Carter. “Some of us actually need to study and you’re disturbing the peace.” I glance over his shoulder and lift my chin, indicating a particularly pissed-off looking guy who’s glaring at us over the top of a physics book.
“You know what?” Carter says, scooping up her books and pressing them to her chest. “I’m going to grab another table. It was really nice meeting you,” she says, looking from Vaughn to Parker, “but I really work better on my own. I guess I’ll…see you at practice.”
Well, fuck me.
Kennedy
I settle my things at a new table on the far end of the reading room and haul ass for the stacks. I don’t actually need anything other than a break from the intense stares and endless questions of my teammates. Having all those guys looking at me, constantly probing?
It’s uncomfortable as hell. Even if a few of them do seem kind of nice. And, okay, funny.
Whatever. It’s probably just a front.
After all, I know exactly what kind of guys they are, and I’m not going to make the same mistake as my mother.
Hard. Pass.
I’ve suffered enough heartbreak and disappointment at the hands of ballplayers to last a lifetime, thank you very much. Like the time my father promised to take me to the zoo for my seventh birthday and never showed. Or the time he bailed on the fifth-grade father-daughter dance because he got tickets to a playoff game. Oh, and then there was the time he showed up drunk to my high school graduation with some bimbo I’d never even met in tow.
At least by then, I was old enough to understand I wasn’t the problem.
So, yeah, the last thing I need in my life is more ballplayers.
Shaking off the depressing thoughts of my deadbeat father, I wander past the stacks and head for the water fountain, glancing up at the clock as I pass by. I’ll get a drink and then head back to my table. Only fifty-four minutes to go.
Easy peasy.
Except this is only day one. Which means I have to face another fifty-nine study halls with these guys. I suppress a groan. No way am I going to get through twelve weeks of study halls without more awkward encounters like the one tonight.
Shit. Maybe I can get a private room at the academic center. That’s a thing, right?
I stop at the fountain and twist my hair before tossing it over my shoulder and bending to get a drink. Ugh. Why are water fountains so low to the ground? I know I’m tall, but come on, I feel like my ass is on display for the whole library to see. Should’ve
