Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Hey, Kole?”
He glances over at me. “Don’t worry, I’m not live tweeting about hooking up with the hotshot forward for the CU Mountain Lions.”
That wasn’t even on my mind until this second. “Good. Because West would kill me. And your dad.” Oh fuck, I blew Coach Hogan’s son. “I kind of want to live to be twenty-two years old.”
Kole chuckles. “We’re just studying. There’s nothing to tell anyone. My dad told me to stay away from you.”
“Why?” I deflate. “Oh, wait, yeah, you don’t need to answer that. I’m not exactly model boyfriend material. I’m definitely not going to be a doctor or anything like you.”
“I don’t think it was that,” Kole says. “Dad knows you’re going through a lot, and when I see someone hurting, I want to fix them. It’s why I’m becoming a doctor. He’s worried you’ll distract me from my goal.”
Great, now I’m worried too. “If you don’t have time to tutor me—”
“I do. Especially at away games.”
“All right, we leave it at that, then. This only happens at away games?” I think I can live with that.
“Sounds good to me.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“You should try to get some sleep. You have another game tomorrow.”
“What time’s morning skate?”
“Eight. Then you have a few hours free if you want to study more.”
Hell yes, I want to study more. I’ve never been so excited to study in my whole damn life.
Okay, I’m a fucking fuckup and never learn from my mistakes.
Clearly.
Using sex as an outlet is perfect … when it’s with someone who’s not Coach’s son.
Did that stop me from going there again Saturday morning? Nope. Did it stop me from climbing into the shower with him and jerking him off while murmuring about organ function on Sunday morning before the bus ride back to CU? Nope.
But now, as the sun rises on Monday morning and I make my way to the gym for weight training with the team, I realize what a dumbass move hooking up with Kole was.
Not just because he’s Coach’s son, but because we were beginning to become friends. Good friends. What if I’ve gone and messed that all up now?
Will it be worth it in the end?
I flash back to him on his knees, that sexy mouth wrapped around my dick, and okay, I’ll relent, the blowjobs were spectacular, but what now? Kole says it’s not going to be weird, but that’s easier said than done.
I shouldn’t care. The Asher from last year wouldn’t have. But … ever since I slept with West’s best friend, I’ve been trying to make better decisions—especially when it comes to who I have in my bed.
Kole is not a smart decision. When I think of the person with the most self-destructive outcome I could stick my dick in, it would be him. Then again, he did get me to memorize the intestinal tract, so that has to count for something, right?
Right?
I’m asking for that little inner voice who tries to get me to make good choices, and now it shuts up?
Ugh.
Stupid fuckboy did a fuckboy thing. Am I really surprised at myself?
The question is, where do we go from here? We should pretend it never happened. I’m good at forgetting my sins—I’ve had enough practice, but I don’t know how Kole will take that.
The way we left it, I think we both kind of agreed to a regular thing. At away games and for studying purposes. But as I step through the doors to the team gym, with the harsh light of what have I done blinding me, I’m not sure how practical a fuck-buddy-type situation will be.
We still have to see each other outside of those hookups, and we have to act as if we didn’t make each other come countless times over the weekend.
I should offer him a five-day change-of-mind policy like insurance companies do … Because that’s so sexy.
I bury my face in my hand and let out a pathetic noise.
“You better not be hungover or Dad will kill you.”
I freeze and peek through my fingers to find Kole smiling up at me with a green smoothie in his hand.
I lift my head and try not to remember what talented things those lips of his can do. His dirty-blond hair falls in front of his eyes, and I resist the urge to reach and push it back for him.
What the fucking fuck?
“What are you doing here today?” I croak.
His smile widens. “Dad wanted you all to have a protein shake, so I put my domestic goddess hat on and made you all some.” He holds it out to me.
“You made this?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Thanks.” I take a sip and can’t help screwing up my face. “What the fuck? That tastes like—”
“I put extra kale in it. Just for you.” Kole leaves with an extra spring in his step.
And okay, that wasn’t weird. He’s acting like his usual self. He’s a dick for giving me this shake that tastes like ass—no wait, worse than ass—but … maybe I’m overthinking this?