Jock Row Read online Sara Ney (Jock Hard #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, College, Funny, New Adult, Romance, Sports, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: Jock Hard Series by Sara Ney
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
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“Fine.” His sigh is resigned. “While you stand here being stubborn, I’ll be over on the stairs ignoring you while you ignore me.”

Removing his cell from the back pocket of his jeans, he holds it up, thumb sliding across the screen, the glow illuminating his inconveniently attractive face. He twists his wrist in my direction, wiggling his finger in small circles. “Don’t hesitate to text your friends and tell them you’re leaving.”

“Bossy,” I grumble, jealous he can so easily disregard me to play on his phone while I stew over my predicament. “I’m not leaving because I’m reliable, and loyal.”

His ears don’t so much as twitch; he’s not listening.

Three more minutes tick by.

“You’re really not going to let me back in?”

He barely spares me a glance. “I’m really not letting you back in.”

“What if I promise to behave?” I run two pinched fingers across my mouth, throw away the key. “I’ll be good. No running interference.”

“Cute.” His eyes are still fastened to his phone. “But no.”

“I can’t be out here and leave my poor friends alone with those idiots.” I pause. “Oops, did I say that out loud?”

His head gives a slow shake. Tsks. “It’s going to be a really long night if you keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Begging to get back inside. It’s pitiful and annoying. Text your damn friends.”

“I’m not begging. I’m asking.”

His eyes leave the screen of his phone, raking my torso up and down with a dismissive brow. “It’s begging—I know what the difference is, and you’re being irksome.”

Damn. The fact that he just used the word irksome?

Kind of a huge turn-on.

“I thought determination was an admirable quality.” I sound pitiful, even to my own ears. “Surely you of all people can appreciate that.”

“Only when used in the right circumstances,” he grumbles after a long pause. “Like, say—warmer circumstances.”

“If…” I root around in my brain for something intelligent to say, to gain equal footing, but end up with, “If you don’t let me back inside, I’m calling the cops.”

Ugh, why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?

“Be my guest, call the cops.” He takes a loud, slurping sip of the beer he’s been holding in his hand. “Tell them Rowdy Wade sent you.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Trust me, doll face, I’ve been called worse.”

“Oh god—do not call me doll face.”

“What should I call you then? I know you don’t take kindly to Cock Blocker as an endearment.”

I stomp my foot, frustrated. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Uh, okay.” He mutters Jesus Christ under his breath like it’s an oath, the bright light from his phone illuminating his sharpening features.

I backpedal.

“I’m sorry. I just…” Feel helpless out here on the porch. “This night isn’t going anything like I planned. I haven’t been to a party in forever and I just wanted to have fun tonight, that’s all.”

“I bet…” he beings slowly, “when you were in high school, you were one of those girls who used to raise their hand during class to ask the teacher for extra credit.”

The “So?” slips out, and I groan while face-palming myself.

“So? No one liked those girls.”

My chin hitches up a notch. “I bet you were one of those jocks who barely passed their classes and cheated off of girls like me.”

He spreads his arms, wingspan wide. Grins wickedly, his entire face lighting up. “Yet here I am with a full ride to college. Do the math on those odds.”

Resigned, my body sags against the side of the house, the fabric of my jacket snagging on the wooden siding. “What am I supposed to do until my friends come out?”

I swear he winks at me. “Again, not my problem.”

“Did you just wink at me?”

He rubs his face with the knuckle of his left hand. “No. I obviously have dust in my eye.”

My head hits the house when I tip it to laugh. “Liar.”

“Pollen?”

We regard each other from our spots across the porch until he quietly asks, “Want me to walk you home?”

He is so transparent. “So you can get me out of here quicker?”

He laughs to himself, chest constricting. “Pretty much.”

“You’re twice as big as I am—no way am I letting you walk me home in the dark.” I wasn’t born yesterday, and my mother didn’t raise a fool.

No matter how cute this guy is.

“Can I point out a fun fact?”

“Can I stop you?”

“Very cute, but no.” He takes a drag from his beer. “Your friends had no problem ignoring the fact that you disappeared when I hauled you off.”

“Do you honestly think those jockholes inside told them I was being kicked out? No. They’re blissfully unaware.”

Another pull from his beer. “They probably think I’m fucking you.”

Jesus. Blunt much?

My cheeks flush. “Don’t flatter yourself. They know me better than that.”

“So you’re a prude?”

I squint, ignoring him. “Remind me again why I followed you out here?”


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