Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Should’ve said I had plans with Becca, which would have been far more believable, but Reid’s touch seems to have temporarily short-circuited my brain.
“Riiight,” he drawls, his voice as smooth as Dove chocolate. Heat rolls off his body, and it’s all I can do not to fan myself. “You have a three-point-nine GPA, one of the highest on the team. I’m pretty sure you could take the night off if you wanted to. Hell, you’ve earned it.”
Indignation flares, burning hot in my belly. “How do you know my GPA? Have you been creeping on me?”
He shrugs, that sexy smile shifting to an infuriating smirk my li—fingers—are just itching to wipe off his face. “No need to creep. I saw the grade book on Coach’s desk.” He laughs, a low rumble that sounds like sex personified, falling from his lips. “It was open.”
I narrow my eyes and plant my hands on my hips, scanning the group of players, all of whom are suddenly balls-deep in their phones. No help there. Not that I expected any. He’s their ringleader, after all.
“That’s an invasion of privacy,” I say, feeling like a complete bitch. I really am not this uptight person. What do I care if Reid saw my GPA? It’s hardly a national secret. Hell, it’s on my resume. It’s just that the idea of him checking up on me, getting to know me more intimately makes me uncomfortable. Like my skin is too hot, too tight.
“Relax. It’s no big deal.” Reid hooks his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, drawing my traitorous eyes south to the bulge behind his zipper. The smirk is back in place, and I know I’ve been caught looking. Heat floods my cheeks, but Coop hops on the peer-pressure express before I can die of embarrassment.
“Hell, if I had a three-point-nine, I’d be shouting that shit from the rooftops,” he says, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “But, alas, I’m fated to be the stereotypical jock with a big appetite, so can we move this little battle of wills—fascinating as it is—to the Diner, because I’m starving?”
The question is directed at me, but it becomes an open invitation and an escape. A bunch of girls I hadn’t noticed step out of the shadows and descend on the guys like bees on a honeycomb. An exchange of greetings ripples through the crowd, and I realize they aren’t strangers, which I guess makes sense because these girls are clearly dressed for the after-party Reid mentioned.
A blonde in booty shorts that could give Queen Bey a run for her money slips an arm around Coop’s waist and bats her lashes as she smashes her boobs against his rib cage. She looks familiar, but I can’t place her. “I’m so hot, but maybe a milkshake would cool me down. Mind if we join you?”
Another girl, this one a brunette, slides under his other arm. That’s when it hits me. These are the girls from study hall. The ones Reid was talking to. Acquaintances my ass. “Great game today! You were amazing!” the girl chirps, gushing with more pep than a cheerleader snorting Pixy Stix.
A grin slides across Coop’s face as he looks from the blonde to the brunette and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head.
Oh, FFS. Just what Coop needs, a threesome to further validate his overblown ego. I’d swear it was a scene from some cheesy, Friday night lights dramedy if I weren’t witnessing it firsthand.
Coop catches me staring and miracle of miracles, his grin actually gets wider. For his part, Reid just stands there, still as a statue, neither encouraging nor discouraging the women. Has he hooked up with them? For some reason, the thought of Reid getting handsy with these girls stings more than it should, and I realize with a sinking stomach that I don’t want to know the answer.
“So, what do you say, Carter?” Coop raises a brow in silent challenge. As if I’ll be so easily baited. “You coming or what?”
The blonde looks me up and down. She quickly dismisses me with a giggle, apparently deciding I’m no threat. Fine by me. I have zero interest in Cooper DeLaurentis.
“I’ll see you at practice on Monday.” I force a little cheer into my words—we did just win our first game of the season, after all—despite the sour taste that lingers in my mouth. Reid gives a curt nod, but says nothing and I watch, feet rooted to the ground, as he and the others retreat down the hall in search of food and festivities.
They might be good teammates, but that’s where it ends. It has to.
This little show proves they’re exactly the kind of guys my mom always warned me about. Too much booze. Too much sex. Too few brain cells. Not exactly a winning combination—despite what the scoreboard said today—and I can’t afford to get tangled up with a guy like that, one who’s temporary at best.
No, I don’t want to get tangled up with a guy like that.
Even if Reid’s smile makes me want to throw caution to the wind and forget everything I know about football players. Even if Reid’s touch makes me want to say yes to his offer, just this once, to see where the night could go.
Chapter Nine
Austin
Greek Row is lit up like a beacon for the young, dumb, and horny when we roll up on Sig Chi, surrounded by throngs of students looking for a good time. The house sits in the middle of the block, hedged in on either side by equally imposing, old-as-hell mansions that have witnessed generations of drunken debauchery I can’t even begin to imagine.
Hell, it’s a wonder some of these places are still standing after the stories I’ve
