Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 112951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Thirty minutes later, I was dressed for bed and feeling a little better.
My teeth were brushed. Face was washed. I thought about a shower, but I decided to wait till morning. I could feel him still on me through the night, and so what if it was Shay. I hadn’t made out with a guy in a while. It actually felt nice, if I just forgot who it was.
I was on my computer when a key fitted into the lock. The door swung open. My roommate came in.
I didn’t look over. She could make her belittling comments. I wouldn’t care. Gage sent me a second email, asking if I’d go to the football game with him. Why he didn’t just text, I had no idea, then the smell of booze tickled my nose. I looked over. She was at her closet, swaying back and forth, and she had pulled her shirt off.
She was alone.
The door was still open, so I shut it and was returning to my desk when I braked. There was a backpack resting on the other side of my desk chair. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t Missy’s. I was pretty sure it wasn’t Holly’s or the cousin’s.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
“Huh?” she barked, her head swinging around to me.
A quick glance confirmed what I already knew. She was drunk.
“Nothing.”
She pulled out one of her shirts, but it wasn’t her normal pajama top. She was really drunk. I picked up Shay’s bag and checked the contents to make sure it was his. It was. I saw his planner with his name scrawled at the top, so I zipped that bag and put it in the back of my closet. No one needed to go through it. I didn’t think Missy would, but I just never knew.
Dropping into my chair, I picked up my phone to text Shay as Missy fell to the floor. I looked up to watch. I couldn’t not see this.
I was tempted to video it, but I was being nice. For once.
As Missy wrestled with her jeans and lifted them over her head to throw into her closet, I texted Shay.
Me: You left your bag here.
Missy let out a half-gurgled moan and a cry of frustration at the same time. She didn’t stand, instead crawling to the closet. She grabbed another pair of pants.
Those weren’t her pajamas, either.
As she pulled them on—or tried since her feet kept eluding the pants’ hole—my phone buzzed back.
Coleman: Can I pick it up in the morning?
I texted back.
Me: When?
Missy got one leg in. Success. I wanted to thrust my fist in the air for her.
My phone buzzed again.
Coleman: Early. My playbook is in there.
I groaned.
Me: When is early? I’m in college, Coleman. Sleeping in is mandatory.
Coleman: Nine too early for you? I can come back to get it now.
Nine was doable.
Me: Let’s do an exchange. You bring me coffee, and I’ll meet you at the parking lot curb with your bag.
Coleman: Done. Decaf okay?
I glared at my phone.
Me: Back to hating you.
Coleman: Never stop that. The world’s equilibrium will be fucked up. I have to know what’s right and wrong. Don’t screw with my moral compass, Cute Ass.
Oh, no! No way.
Me: Third rule of what we don’t talk about. No nicknames unless they reconfirm our mutual dislike for each other. No Cute Ass.
His response was immediate.
Coleman: Cunt Ass?
A second squeak from me.
Me: NO!
I could almost hear him laughing.
Coleman: Relax. I know. Clarke’s Ass. That’s how you are in my phone.
The tension left my shoulders.
Me: See you in the morning. 9 sharp.
Coleman: Night.
I put my phone down, but then it buzzed once again.
Coleman: Ass.
I was struggling to wipe this stupid grin off my face. All was right again. I plugged my phone in, pulled my laptop back toward me, and sent a response to Gage’s email. I’ll sit with you, but only if we’re in the opposing team’s section.
He’d be pissed, but that was the only way. I turned the computer off, and by then Missy was climbing up the ladder in a bright pink silk shirt. The buttons were left buttoned, and her pajama bottoms were a pair of corduroy khakis. I was pretty sure she didn’t brush her teeth, but before my head even hit the pillow, she was snoring.
My alarm went off at eight-thirty.
I slept, but the dreams had been filled with kisses, heavy breathing, touching in places all over the body, and a general feeling of being aroused. The whole night.
I was exhausted, but I pulled myself out of bed.
Checking my phone, I knew that Shay would be on time, so I picked up my pace. Dressing, washing, the whole get-go seemed to take longer than normal for some reason. I pulled on jeans, sandals, and a baggy shirt. I didn’t need to proclaim any hotness level here.