AllFreeNovel
Share Us
ChapterOne
Adalee
I am ready.
During my three weeks in Alabama, I decided I’m ready to take the next step with my boyfriend. Chaz has been pressuring me for months. My inner voice keeps telling me to hold off, but I’m sure all college guys try to persuade their girlfriends for sex.
I’m back on campus and ready to fulfill my childhood dream of winning the SEC All Around in gymnastics. It would be the icing on a cake that I rarely eat.
Okay, Adalee. Quit thinking about gymnastics and focus on preparing for your date.
Slipping into a little black dress, I admire myself in the mirror. My hair is twisted up in the back. The plum-colored lip stain goes on smooth, then Ipop, pop, poplike they do in the Hip-Hop instructional videos—just for a bit of fun. This is exciting. He’ll be here at any moment to take me to an upscale hotel for dinner and a night together where our roommates can’t interrupt us. Surprisingly, my nerves are steady and calm.
I sling my gym bag over my shoulder and skip down the hall before sliding on my black lacy crisscross heels, then I tie the ribbon around my ankles. My phone is sitting on the bar in the kitchen/living area. It lights up, and I glide my finger across the screen to answer Chaz’s call. “Hey,” I say cheerfully.
There’s a pause. “Can you meet me? I’m already here and had a couple of drinks.” His voice is flat.
“Yeah,” I answer, attempting to squelch my disappointment. “Sure. Is everything okay?”
“Just get here. I need you now,” Chaz demands.
I’m not sure if I even answer him. He has huge mood swings, and he’s hard to handle sometimes. With my spirits dampened, I drive myself to the hotel. So much for being swept off my feet for our first time.
Baseball isn’t going well this off-season. Chaz has been a bear since some guy transferred here from Illinois and is competing for the same spot he wants. Chaz is a competitor, teammate or not, he’s going to fight for his position. And he told me that his new teammate is going out with other guys’ girls.
When I enter the hotel lobby, Chaz isn’t waiting for me. Why did I expect him to be? Why did I think three weeks apart would change his personality—he’s never gentlemanly. He’s cocky and expects everyone to do what he wants when he wants.
Red flags start waving in the wind as I stare over to the bar and a woman is draped over his body. Her hand rests on one of his shoulders as she pushes back and then laughs in his ear. And my motherfuggingboyfriend is eating-it-up.
I cross the white marble tile that’s veined with gray and black. My heels click and echo in the decorative, arched room. I hate heels. Why did I dress like this? I’m used to running around barefoot and covered in chalk. I may not be comfortable but at least I know I look attractive as all eyes stare at me as I walk.
I clear my throat to give the woman withpureintentions time to peel herself from my boyfriend.
“Nice to meet you Jane,” he says, and I swear to God he gives her his trademark head nod where his blond hair shifts over his forehead and to the side.
“Yeah, I’ll catch up with you later,” Jane says as her smile lingers on her mouth.
“Can we put my bag in our room?” I ask, hoping Jane with the double D’s gets the hint that he’s taken. The cougar looks ready to pounce but lurks off to monitor her prey.
He knocks back his crystal glass of what I assume is bourbon then slides it to the bartender. “One more.”
He nods as he cleans a glass with a white cloth, then asks, “Anything for the lady?”
Chaz’s response sends chills through me—and not in a good way. “No, she’s a prude.”
The bartender pours the bourbon into a new glass and moves it in front of Chaz, giving me an expression of pity—mouth closed, tilted head with a half-grimace.
My mouth has gone dry at Chaz’s insult. “May I have a water, please?”
The bartender pours me a glass, and I sit down in the barstool beside Chaz. I take a long sip of my water and ask, “What’s going on? I thought we were having a special night.”
Chaz chuckles then sucks down the rest of his second glass of alcohol since I’ve been here, making me wonder how many he had before I arrived?
He’s wearing dress pants and a blue fitted button-down that matches the color of his eyes. His hair is perfectly coiffed in a college guy kind of way. He styles it where the long part in front swoops to the side.
He’s a handsome guy and he knows it. He’s listed as five-foot-eleven in the baseball program but he’s closer to five foot ten—not that I care since I’m a tiny gymnast. He has a sharp nose and square jawline, but tonight, his normally crystal-clear blue eyes are stormy and red. He’s definitely had a few drinks more than usual.
Finally, he speaks, “Let’s go up and do this.” He taps his drink against the oak stained bar, stands, and heads toward the elevators without asking to carry my bag.
