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“If we could go to his place, I would. But you know what it’s like over at the football house. Constant parties and cleat sniffers looking to get laid. I’d prefer to keep them away from my man.”
“Like you have anything to worry about. That guy only has eyes for one girl and that’s you, my friend.”
It’s sweet.
The smile that blooms across her face tells me that she knows it as well. Just as she opens her mouth to respond, strong arms wrap around her from behind and sweep her off her feet.
Literally.
Speak of the devil...
Sasha beams as Easton presses her against his muscular body. By the besotted look in my bestie’s eyes, the world around her has completely fallen away. People jostle past, shooting irritated looks in their direction, but neither cares. It wouldn’t surprise me to see little red and pink hearts dancing above their heads.
Ugh.
They’re seriously too cute for words. It’s enough to induce vomiting.
Just as I’m about to sigh, movement catches the corner of my eye. A shiver of awareness slices through me and the delicate hair at the nape of my neck prickles as my gaze lands on the figure loitering a few feet away.
Crosby Rhodes.
Left tackle for the Western Wildcats.
My initial reaction is to step away and put more distance between us, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I steel myself for a confrontation. I’ve spent too much time around him not to know exactly how this interaction will play out.
And that’s badly.
The funny part—if there’s anything amusing about this situation—is that he has a reputation on campus as a real player. The guy doesn’tdogirlfriends. To my knowledge, he’s never entertained the idea of one. Even with his surly disposition, he can still charm the panties off any female within a ten-mile radius.
Except me.
To me, he’s a total dickhead.
As soon as I make eye contact, his gaze drops, slowly crawling down the length of my body. Even though he’s not physically touching me, that’s exactly what his perusal feels like. It takes every ounce of self-control to remain motionless, so he doesn’t see how much his scrutiny bothers me. Instead, I straighten my shoulders and grit my teeth before jutting out my chin in defiance. If he thinks he can burrow under my skin that easily, he’s seriously mistaken.
By the time his onyx-colored depths return to mine, there’s a slight curl to his upper lip and a dark look filling his eyes.
“Nice tits, McAdams. New push-up bra? They look bigger than usual. I like it.”
“Fuck off, Rhodes.” It takes effort to resist the urge to hunch over so that my breasts aren’t as noticeable. Although, let’s face it, when you wear a D cup, that’s difficult to do. I’ve always been sensitive about the size of my boobs, and somehow, Crosby has figured it out.
He smirks as if pleased by my reaction. I have no idea what I did to provoke his ire, but it’s been directed at me since Andrew first introduced us. If it had been possible to avoid the surly boy with the messy dark hair and lip ring, I would have done so after just one meeting. Unfortunately, that was impossible given that Andrew and Crosby are teammates, friends, and roommates. They share an apartment together off campus.
In the beginning, I went out of my way to be nice, figuring that with enough time and kindness, his attitude would thaw and he’d soften his stance. That never happened. If anything, his temperament grew nastier. Once it dawned on me that we were never going to sit around a campfire and sing Kumbaya, I avoided and ignored him.
Even though Andrew and I broke up six months ago, I still run into Crosby on campus and at parties. Sure, I could avoid the football players all together, but I refuse to give either of them that much power over my life. That being said, am I going to miss any of them, with the exception of Easton, when I graduate from Western in the spring?
Nope. Not even a little.
That’s not to say they’re all bad dudes. A couple of Sasha’s soccer teammates are dating football players and they seem like nice guys. But after Andrew’s total mindfuck, I have zero interest in getting wrapped up with another self-absorbed jock. There are too many girls at Western throwing themselves at their feet. Most of the ones who hooked up with Andrew knew he had a girlfriend and didn’t give a crap.
So much for girl code.
After I dumped his ass, a good number of them came out of the woodwork to share all the gory details. Then they were all about pussy power and solidarity. Not so much when they were hoing around with my man behind my back.
“What?” He grins. “It was a compliment. You should take it that way.”
“Please,” I snort, “nothing that comes out of your mouth could be misconstrued as complimentary.”
