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PRESCOTT
“Why are you frowning like that?” I ask Nixon as we leave the training facilities. The coach had us watching our next opponent’s tapes for the past two hours. Next week, we’ll be facing one of our biggest rivals, and everybody has been on edge.
“It’s this damn game,” Nixon mutters, running his hand through his hair. “It’s messing with my head.”
“If it’s messing with your head, then we’re screwed.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Well, if you wanted me to hold your hand and tell you all’s going to be okay, you came to the wrong person.”
“Fuck off, Wentworth.”
“Gladly, I have some studying to do anyway.”
“Good luck. I’m off to class. See you at practice?”
With a nod, I slam my fist against his and make my way across the campus. The library is quiet as I make my way inside—the smell of books and dust permeates the air.
I look around the room, searching for an open spot so I can get some work done when I spot her sitting at the table by the window along with Kate’s sister.
For a moment, I just stand there and watch her type away at her keyboard. There’s a frown between her brows as, every now and then, she shifts her attention to the book that’s standing open by her laptop.
A hand touches my arm. I turn around to find a cute blonde watching me with a smile on her lips. “Can you please move?”
“Sure, sorry.”
Rubbing the back of my head, I get out of her way. She follows me with her gaze as she goes to the shelf I was blocking and looks over the selection before rising to her toes. Her shirt lifts, revealing a patch of skin on her midriff as she reaches for the book.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I pull it out.
Doll: Enjoying the view?
My head snaps up, my eyes meeting hers over the edge of her laptop—the corner of my mouth lifts.
Me: Jealous, doll?
Doll: It was you who wanted to be exclusive, hotshot. Not me. I’m fine with looking for my fun elsewhere.
My fingers grip the phone in my hand as the idea of Jade going to that basketball dude, or anyone else, for that matter, flashes in my mind.
Me: Like hell you are.
Doll: Touchy, are we?
Me: I’m not touchy.
I look up, expecting to find her reading the message, but she puts her phone to the side and turns back to her computer.
Seriously?
Me: I’m not.
Me: I’ll just keep texting you until you answer, you know that right?
Me: I’m persistent like that.
Me: Besides, we have a score to settle anyhow.
