The professor glances around the table before settling his gaze on the guys. “Sports management is about skill, not gender. If you think otherwise, you’re in the wrong field.”
I glance at the guys before adding, “And for the record, I don’t need any of you to believe in me. I know what I’m worth.”
The room goes quiet. And for the first time since I stepped into this class, I’m looking forward to proving them wrong.
24
RYAN
The steam from the shower still clings to the air as I step out, towel wrapped around my waist. I wipe my face, rubbing my hands through my wet hair, and toss the towel onto my bed. The bathroom mirror fogs up as I grab my phone from the counter, checking the time—just after eight.
My brain’s still a little mush from my psychology class earlier. Some days, balancing hockey and school feels like a lot, but I’m still glad I took this path instead of following my brother.
Downstairs, the guys are probably already hyped up for the game. Austin’s probably bouncing around, yelling at the TV, since it’s his favorite team playing tonight. Normally, I’d be right there with them, ready for a night of noise, snacks, and shit-talking. But honestly? I’m way more interested in something—or rather, someone—else right now.
I swipe open my phone and text Isabella.
Me:
You up?
I lean against the bathroom sink, waiting for the little bubbles to pop up. A few seconds later, my phone buzzes.
Isabella:
It’s eight. Of course I’m up.
I chuckle, that familiar smart-ass tone of hers making me grin.
Me:
I miss you. And that smart mouth of yours.
Isabella:
You’re trouble…
Me:
If by trouble you mean the best time ever, then yeah, I am trouble.
I can’t help it. A stupid, goofy grin spreads across my face. My phone buzzes again. I grin even wider. I can practically hear her rolling her eyes at me. I feel my phone vibrate again and quickly glance at it.
Isabella:
You’re ridiculous. But I’ll admit, I kind of miss you too.
My chest does this stupid flutter and my smile widens. Yeah, I like hearing that from her. A lot. I’ve never been a guy who craves attention or affection, but from her? It’s different. I want it. All the time.
Me:
So… what are you doing? Besides missing me, obviously.
I could be down there with the guys, but honestly, nothing sounds better than just talking to her. I know they’ll be fine without me. Hell, I’m usually the one who bails on them.
Isabella:
Trying to finish some stupid assignment for tomorrow. But it’s not happening.
