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Spencer leans in toward Nixon and whispers conspiratorially: “He definitely needs to get laid. It would put him in a better mood.”
“He can hear you just fine. And I have more important things to worry about than sex.”
Like keeping my spot on the team, finishing this year, and taking the MCATs—real-life problems.
My gaze zeroes in on the group sitting a few tables behind Nixon. More importantly, on a certain brunette.
Seriously? Did she really have to be here today of all days?
After the debacle at the brunch, I did my best to avoid Jade. We had completely different majors, so our paths didn’t often cross on campus, and since I usually left my apartment early and returned late, I didn’t see her there either.
Until today.
My throat goes dry as I watch her laugh with her friends at the table. I know I should look away, but I can’t seem to do that. It’s like my mind is trying to drink her in as much as possible.
But then my line of vision is interrupted when a group of guys stops in front of them—the basketball players. I watch as they chat before the guys take the available seats, that guy from the bar sliding in next to Jade with a grin on his face.
I press my lips together, the food I just ate leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
She’s your best friend’s little sister.
But even if she wasn’t, she’s too good for you.
“Wentworth?”
I shake my head at the sound of my name, forcing myself to move my gaze from her.
Nixon raises his brow. “You listening to us?”
“What did I tell you?” Spencer asks. “He’s all off. Even more than usual.”
“Shut up, Monroe. It’s just been a shitty day. A shittyweek.”
“Tell me about it,” Phillip groans. “Coach’s been riding our asses more than usual.”
“I don’t know what’s his problem,” Sullivan comments. “It was just one loss.”
I tried to ignore the guy up until now. What was he even doing sitting here? I have no idea.
“Just one loss?” I turn to him, my eyes narrowing. “It was more than just one loss. It was a clusterfuck of a game against the team that shouldn’t have given us any problems. It’s not even surprising that he’s pissed. We should be equally angry at ourselves.”
“Hey, don’t look at me. It’s not like it’s my fault. I was just sitting there.”
“You’re saying it’s my fault?” I ask, happy to finally have somebody to turn my anger toward. I’ve been looking for a fight ever since I finished my conversation with my dad, and Sullivan seems like the perfect choice.
“It was everybody’s fault,” Nixon says, giving me a warning glare. “Now, will you two stop? You’re fighting like cats and dogs. We’re a team, for fuck’s sake. Teammates don’t turn on their teammates.”
The silence falls over the table at Nixon’s harsh words. The guy rarely ever yells, so it’s not even surprising.
“I have a class to get to,” Sullivan mutters, breaking the quiet. “I’ll see you later.”
He grabs his things and leaves. I watch him walk through the room, but instead of going straight to the door, he stops at Jade’s table. They talk for a little bit before she, too, grabs her things, and together they leave.
I tip my chin in their direction. “You not going to say anything about that?”
Nixon glances over his shoulder to look in the direction I pointed.
“Don’t they have a class together? I think he’s a graphic design major like her.”
