“I cannot believe we’re going to be living next door to Cooper DeLaurentis.”
“Yeah,” I deadpan. “It’s like we won the hot neighbor lottery.”
“Right? Brooke and Soraya are going to be so jealous when we tell them.” Her cornflower eyes light up, and I can practically see the cartoon lightbulb glowing over her head. “Maybe he’ll invite us to party since we’re neighbors. I would give my left ovary to hook up with that man.” She wiggles her brows. “Rumor has it football players have amazing stamina.”
“Eww.” I shoot her a dark look. “There’s exactly a zero percent chance I’ll be partying with the football team this semester.” Or ever.Been there, done that, have the emotional scars to prove it.“And you shouldn’t either. It’s like begging for an STD.”
Maddie clicks her tongue. “No slut shaming. This is a sex positive environment.”
A bead of sweat slides down my temple. She’s right, but…
“It’s not shaming if it’s true.” I wipe my cheek on my shoulder. “Besides, I thought you were hooking up with that lifeguard?”
“Do the wordssummer flingmean nothing to you? We’re not like, committed or whatever.” She laughs and the box shifts between us as I turn to glance over my shoulder. “I don’t have time for a relationship.”
Real talk. Between classes and gymnastics, free time is nonexistent.
“Fine, but I still think you can do better than some jacked up baller with a tiny dick and a god complex.”
“Sounds like the voice of experience,” she shoots back, eyes narrowed. “Spill.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
Because some secrets are so humiliating— so damaging—they can only go to the grave.
“So you’re saying that if one of those hard bodied hotties asked you out, you wouldn’t be the least bit interested?”
There are plenty of women on this campus who’d be thrilled to score with one of Waverly’s gridiron gods, but I’m not one of them.
Not anymore.
“I’d rather eat mat on national TV than hookup with a football player.”
2
PARKER
“Parker,get your ass over here and put Vaughn out of his misery!” Coop hollers, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead.
“It’s too damn hot.” I’m not trying to get heatstroke playing Ultimate Frisbee, which is why I’m lounging in the shade while my roommates run themselves ragged. Football training camp is in full swing and Coach Collins will have my balls if I’m not one hundred percent on Monday. “Besides, you and Vaughn make such a great team.”
If you enjoy watching them get their asses kicked, which I do.
“Dude. He can’t even see the frisbee around that giant bush on his face.”
Vaughn gives him the finger, but says nothing. He’s always been a man of few words. It’s a trait I admire since the rest of us are loud as fuck.
“Are we doing this or what?” Reid—our team captain and fourth roommate—asks, spinning the frisbee on his pointer finger. “Because I’m happy to take the win if you want to forfeit DeLaurentis.”
Coop bristles, squaring his shoulders. “Fuck, no.” He turns to me, a calculating look in his eyes. “Come on, man. I’ll owe you one.”
And there it is. A favor from Cooper-I’d-sell-my-soul-for-a-W-DeLaurentis.
Here’s the thing. Athletes are competitive by nature, myself included, but Coop and Reid are on another level. They’re the real deal. All-Americans. Heisman contenders. Guaranteed first round NFL draft picks. The prospect of losing at anything—even a meaningless game of Ultimate Frisbee—rankles.
“Well.” I peel myself from the lounger. “When you put it like that, how can I resist?”
Vaughn snorts and flops down in my chair as I jog across the lawn.
