Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Chase Lovett.
Star of my (unrequited) fantasies.
Hottest guy on campus.
Hockey god.
Too bad he has no idea who I am. Literally, I’m so invisible to him that he once sat on me in class.
No thanks to a fire in the dorms, he just became my accidental roommate.
Did I mention the hotel room our university moved us to has only one bed?
Not ideal.
Worse, I accidentally left “My Precious” Lord of the Rings underwear hanging to dry in our shower.
My actual nightmare.
My name is Cammie Lovelock and this might just be the worst, best thing that’s ever happened to me.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
CAMMIE
My phone pings with a message from my sister.
Essie
Video chat in 1 min!
I nearly collide with another person as I rush out of the communal bathroom. I flatten myself against the wall as Chase Lovett, hockey god, the most popular guy in our residence building and the hottest guy in first year, brushes past me without so much as a glance in my direction. Like I don’t exist. It’s basically the story of my life.
I continue my cardboard cutout impression as Chase, his hockey buddies, and two girls who haven’t spoken a word to me in the two months we’ve lived on this floor, continue down the hall, laughing and chatting. They’re probably heading to the common room. The Toronto Terror, the local pro hockey team, are playing tonight. I stare shamelessly at Chase’s retreating form, all six-foot-four of dark hair, broad shoulders, and magnificent, highly smackable ass.
My phone rings, so I quickly hold my lanyard to the lock and slip into my room.
Aragorn, Legolas, and Arwen stare intensely at me from the poster above my bed.
“Hey! Hi! Hello!” I say breathlessly as Essie’s two-dimensional image appears.
My room is directly across the hall from the bathroom, so I have no reason to be breathless. Chase does it to me every time.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” A slight frown tugs at the corners of my sister’s lips.
“Nope. Not a bad time. I was in the bathroom.”
“Oh. Fair.” She lobs a series of questions at me. “How are things? How are classes? Have you made any new friends since we talked last week?”
She asks the new friends question all the time. Essie and I are opposites. She’s effortlessly cool, outgoing, and has an endless supply of friends. I’m nerdy, introverted, and have two close friends, one of whom I met online. The other I met in my English class. It took me six weeks to say hi. Her name is Tally, and she’s the only person I know, who isn’t a grandpa, who loves Good & Plenty.
Essie’s phone is propped in a holder on her vanity, which is covered in makeup and application tools. Her straight, dark hair is pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head. She’s wearing a pink, off-the-shoulder sweater and dark-wash denim.
“Classes are good.” Especially the two I have with Chase. “And I talked to a girl in bio class last week.” I asked if the seat was taken beside her. She said she was waiting for her friend. I found another one.
“That’s great! What’s her name?”
I scramble for a name. “Her name is Greta.”
“That’s old school. Have you made plans yet? Did you exchange numbers?” Essie dips a liner brush in black liquid, expertly lining her dark eyes with a dramatic flourish.
“Not yet. But I’ll see her tomorrow.” It’s not untrue. I will see her tomorrow. But I will not be asking to exchange numbers or hang out. I sat three rows back and watched her friend slide into the seat next to her. I’ve seen her with Chase before. Just talking, but still. We definitely don’t run in the same circles. If I had a chance in hell with Chase, she would be competition.
“That’s cool. Have you seen Brody on campus yet?” Essie asks. “I know a couple of other people on campus if you want their info.”
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t need to do that.” Like I want my sister making my friends for me. “And, yeah. We have a class together.” I fight to keep my internal cringe from showing on my face. I’ve managed to keep that tidbit to myself up until this moment. Brody Stiles is the youngest brother of Tristan Stiles, pro hockey player for the Toronto Terror.
Essie has always sort of known the Stiles brothers because of her best friend Rix, and I’ve always known of them. Tristan, Nate, and Brody. Brody and I are the same age, just like Essie is the same age as Brody’s middle brother, Nate. But until this year, my path had never really crossed with Brody.
Essie stops applying makeup to shoot me a disbelieving look. “What? Why didn’t you tell me that until now?”