Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
We cross the street, headed toward Giovanni’s Pizza.
“What were you talking to Coach’s daughter about?” Trent asks. “It looked intense.”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, right?” Trent nudges me in the arm with his elbow. “That didn’t look like nothing to me.”
“I told her she was in the wrong locker room… and that she had a weird name.”
Jamie laughs. “Like you have room to talk about weird names, Spidey.”
I punch him in the arm, almost knocking him off balance, but he manages to regain his footing. “Call me that again and watch what happens.”
“Coach will rip your dick off if he catches you looking at his daughter,” Trent says. “We all saw you eye-fucking the shit out of her.”
I wink. “Good thing he didn’t catch me.”
“Coach loves him,” Jamie counters. “He treats Prez like a son. I’m sure he’d give him a pass to hit that.”
“Now, I really can’t fuck his daughter… seeing as how that would make us related.”
He laughs, opening the door to the crowded pizzeria for me. “I bet he wouldn’t care. He’d make an exception for his team captain.”
Would he, though?
Doubtful.
We step inside to wall-to-wall booths filled with college kids. Some people are sitting at the bar that runs along the right side, shoveling slices into their mouths. Gio’s is the local hangout for most people on campus. The pizza shop is almost always open, making it the perfect place to come when you’re drunk and need a quick bite to eat.
“Great, nowhere to sit.” Drake glances around the room and rubs his stomach. “Maybe we should get our pizza to go.”
“Nah, we can stand and eat,” I say.
Tucker points at a table of familiar girls. “I’m sure they would make room for us.”
I shake my head. “Been there, done that. Stay away from the redhead. She’s bat shit crazy.”
“I’d hit that,” Drake says.
Tucker makes a gagging sound. “Hard pass on Parker’s sloppy seconds.”
Jamie shrugs, unaffected. “Prez has good taste in women.”
“It’s called standards, something Tucker and Trent don’t have.”
We stroll to the counter about to order when I hear Coach Bryant call my name. I look over my shoulder. He’s with his daughter in a booth by the window. She stares at me with a slice of half-eaten pepperoni pizza in her hand. Grease drips down the right side of her mouth. Most girls would have blushed by now and wiped their face.
Not Bex.
Zero fucks given.
I walk over to their table, flanked by Drake, Tucker, Trent, and Jamie. Bex bites into her pizza, now ignoring me.
Coach slaps the seat next to him. “Sit with us.”
“Thanks for the invite, Coach.” I wave him off. “But we don’t want to crash your dinner.”
“No, that’s nonsense. I insist.” He looks to his daughter for confirmation. “Honey, you don’t mind, right?”
Bex shrugs and slides across the bench, moving her plate with her. She finishes her slice and then wipes her mouth with a napkin.
Beautiful without even trying, Bex is still in the same shorts and fitted jersey from earlier. Her blonde hair falls in messy waves over her breasts. Her face is free of makeup, her lips chapped with a minor cut on the right side. Bex doesn’t seem to care what anyone thinks of her. She has just the right amount of sass and reminds me of… my mom. I was raised by a strong, stubborn woman who was on track to play basketball professionally until an injury ended her career.
“Have you guys met my daughter, Bex?”
“Not until she ran into me in the locker room earlier,” I admit.
Her eyes widen as if I said something wrong.
Coach cocks a curious eyebrow at her.
“I lied about coming in through the side entrance,” she says to clear up his confusion.
His cheeks flush once he realizes she walked through a crowded locker room full of naked men.
“It’s okay, Dad. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
His eyes pop out of his head, but he keeps his cool in front of us and rebounds quickly. “We’ll talk about this later, Bex.” His focus shifts from his daughter and back to me. “Join us.”
I squeeze Coach Bryant’s shoulder. “That’s all right, we were just grabbing a slice for the road.”
My friends are right about Coach Bryant treating me like a son. He has shown me special treatment since freshman year when he was still the assistant coach. He pulled me aside at the first tryout and told me I had something special and not to waste it on women or booze. Ever since, he’s been more than a coach to me.
“We’ll be back,” Tucker says to Coach and pulls me away from the table, lowering his voice. “Dude, you were staring at her a little too hard in front of Coach Bryant.”
We stop in front of the counter, and Tucker orders a slice for each of us. I pull out my wallet, assuming these cheap fucks aren’t paying. Not like they can’t afford it. They have hefty trust funds, too.