Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“You’re delirious.”
“Drunk off sex.” He sat up. “When’s class?”
I stretched my arms overhead. “Ten. I have time.”
“I’m at eleven. We should schedule a tutoring session on that level of the library you like so much later today.”
“We are not having sex up there.”
“But think about the memories?”
We both laughed when footsteps sounded. Brady walked by the room. I exhaled a sigh of relief when he backtracked and pointed at both of us in bed, then rubbed his eyes, then pointed again. “So the date went well?”
“We went to an arcade,” I blurted. “After burgers.”
Brady smirked. “And then you took the games home to the bed. Nice, I like your style.” He leaned against the doorframe. “So are you guys still fighting, and you just got so intoxicated you lack the will to move, or are you back together?”
“Together,” Van blurted, beating me to it.
I turned and threw my arms around him.
“Well, shit me a brick.” Brady sighed. “I’m not getting any sleep for the next few weeks, I just know it… Do me a favor and try to put music on or something so I don’t hear you boning. Oh and remember the hot tub rule still stands, you jackass!” He pointed at Van. “I mean it.”
Van held up his hands. “We won’t bone in the hot tub.”
“Bone.” Brady laughed. “We should use that word more often.” He giggled. “Sorry, I think I’m still drunk.”
He walked into the doorframe twice before stumbling backward and making his way toward his room.
“Together, huh?” I elbowed Van. “Officially?”
He lifted me onto his lap and smacked my ass. “Yes, and you’re officially back in my bathroom, alright? It ups my chances of seeing you naked more.”
I shrugged and slowly climbed off his lap. “Or you could just shower with me?”
“Yes.” He jumped out of bed, grabbed my hand, looked up and down the hall, and ran with me to the bathroom.
I laughed the entire way.
Until moans of pleasure took place of the laugh.
And then silence as he wiped my body down.
Together again.
Vaughan: Three weeks later
“I’m losing my shit.” I got up from the couch, then sat back down, then got back up, then sat. Tru wasn’t any help. She was chewing her fingernails like her only goal in life was to have nubs for hands, and Brady puked twice—not from alcohol. Then again, he was also a potential draft pick. We weren’t going to be at the top, and we may never even make it outside of a practice squad, but who knew?
Dad hadn’t even texted a good luck.
Mom did, but that was it.
It had been Tru’s idea to have a party at the house. At the time, I thought it would be great, but failing in front of everyone or potentially failing did not lessen my anxiety.
“You need to relax,” Tru reasoned.
“I can’t relax when my entire future is riding on me being a draft pick.”
“You’re going to get drafted.”
I grinned. “You know something I don’t, Cinderella?”
“Just that you’re amazing, and I’m so beyond lucky to have you.”
“Are you messing with me?”
She smirked. “I’d never.”
“Will you two stop flirting while our lives hang on the line?” Brady expressed.
The announcer suddenly walked on stage to start the fifth round. There were seven altogether, and I knew that if I did get called, it would be closer to the end. I was gripping my cell phone like my life depended on it. All of the nation's top players were in that room with full knowledge they would most likely be picked. They just didn’t know by what team. The league invited all two hundred and fifty of us eligible for the draft, but I decided to stay home with friends and family because I knew I was close to the bottom of the bucket.
I squeezed Tru’s hand so hard when he cleared his throat. “To start the fifth round, the University of Harvard quarterback Vaughan Aires!”
Frozen, I just sat on the couch and stared at the screen. My phone suddenly buzzed in my hand. It was all a blur—the coach calling me personally, welcoming me to the team. I had to sign immediately and head over to Bellevue in the morning to meet the coaching staff. There were more details, but I was too stunned to do anything.
His call was followed by at least ten more—agents wanting to sign me right away. I’d already had my eye out for Matt Kingston. He was a notorious sports agent out of the Seattle area. Thankfully, he finally did call, and I told him I wanted to sign with him immediately. His response was wow, that was easy.
It was two hours of complete chaos, but Tru never left my side. Brady got called at the end of the seventh round to San Francisco, and the guy looked so relieved he was going to pass out.