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Shrugging her off, I smile at Josh-Justin as he waves in my direction. I return the gesture and hope we will run into each other again. Preferably before the party tonight.

“Fine,” I say to Jessica in a huff, lightly jogging next to her as we dodge people on the streets.

My senior year will be off to a better start if I can fiund someone to bring along with us to the biggest party of the year. I need a buffer when I step into the house that holds so many bad memories. Not only is this game important, but so is the massive party the football team throws every year at their house. It’s the kind of invite you die to get. Because an invitation by a team member means you’re one of the elite, part of the inner circle of sports royalty on this campus. I know from experience.

Until Jessica had started dating Clay Summers last spring, I avoided football and anyone associated with it like the plague. My father is a big fan of the sport, but I loathe it because of one person. The idiot who broke my heart after he’d made starting running back our sophomore year. The jerk who also lives inside the house I dread so much.

Darting through the courtyard, I spot another guy who could be my date. Shirtless, with dirt smeared on his sweaty body, I flip up my sunglasses to get a better look, as I watch him throw a football to his friend. If I don’t find someone good-looking enough to bring to this stupid party, I will look like an ass. I can’t have Bash see me alone when I have no doubt he will be surrounded by a swarm of women.

Jessica knows I have a legitimate concern about tonight, yet she still insists that I come and put on a happy face. I’ve spent the last two years avoiding Bash. I only need to make it through tonight.

Shuffling past returning students who flock from the well-preserved brownstone that lines three sides of the rectangular field, we’re almost at the football stadium. Like most prestigious schools, Strickland University has the pristine shine of an Ivy League campus. From the people to the statues of famous Philadelphians, the place oozes perfection and wealth. I’m one of the few who are here on a scholarship. Unlike these trust fund babies, I didn’t grow up with money.

Once we reach the gates, we stop to hold out our tickets to a man wearing a Strickland University football shirt. He scans the bar code and says, “The game is already in progress. Be careful getting to your seats. You’re on the field.”

“Shit,” Jessica moans, frowning in my direction. “You just had to stop and stare at that guy, didn’t you?”

I snicker, now walking toward her, ignoring her previous comment. “You have a date to the party. I’m still looking for one in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget. How could I? You’ve only mentioned it to me a thousand times since you h

ad agreed to come.”

I sling my purse over my shoulder and laugh. “Please. I haven’t been that bad.”

She peels strands of sweat-matted blonde hair from her face and shoves them behind her ears. “Yes, you have. Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been driving me insane all week. After making it this long without speaking to Bash, you can make it through a game and one stupid jock party no problem.”

A ball chaser to the core, she’s wearing a replica of her boyfriend’s jersey and blue eye shadow to match the color in the shirt. The jersey is so tight it could fit a child. She pared it with strappy sandals that show off her perfectly tanned legs and jean shorts that ride up her ass. Our tastes are similar, except I don’t date athletes. Not anymore.

I was like her once. Until Bash ruined our relationship. He destroyed what we had and for what? Now, he’s the hot shit star of our football team and can get any girl he wants. Since our break up, I don’t think he’s kept a girl around for more than a weekend, if that. We were never meant to be together. Coming from different worlds, the two never meshed.

As the daughter of a former model, Jessica looks the part as the girlfriend of Clay Summers. She inherited her mother’s long lashes, perfect complexion, and rocking body. And, then there’s me. The artsy, giving zero fucks best friend who likes to dance in the Quad when it rains and do plenty of odd things that have made me an outcast at events like the one I have to attend tonight.

Jessica tugs on my hand, dragging me through the crowd of screaming fans. The stadium is on fire, brought to life by the energy of the people around us. Making our way through the throng, we start jogging again when Jessica hears Clay’s name over the loud speaker.

We move so fast that my heart pounds out of my chest, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, igniting a fire under my skin. Turnover. That’s the only word that registers in my head as we push forward, along the sidelines as we look for our seats. I have no idea if the call was on our team or our rivals. Either way I could care less. I’m here for moral support. Nothing more.

Oblivious to my surroundings, I drop my purse on the metal bench once we find our spot. Clay is so grossly in love with Jessica that he had our seats reserved. I pick up the piece of paper with my name on it, shaking my head. It’s cute, but I really do hate jocks. Even if this one in particular breaks the mold with how sweet he is when it comes to Jessica.

Scaring the shit out of me, Jessica screams my name so loud I turn around to face the field. But I get more than what I was expecting. A thick wall of man comes barreling toward me, reaching for the football as it smacks me in the face. It happens so fast that I don’t have time to brace myself for impact. My hand reflexively goes up to my left cheek. The sting from the edge of the ball sets deep in my bones as I fall backward.

He somehow manages to slip his hand around me before I hit my head, but he can’t stop himself from landing on top of me, as we hit the ground together. Thrown around like a ragdoll, my head and body hurt. My eyes close for a few seconds. Strong arms hold me tight. So tight, that I think he’s sucking the air from my lungs.

When I open my eyes, I feel his hot breath on my face before I stare into his bright green eyes.

“Bash,” I mutter, out of breath. Because he has always taken my breath away. That’s why I avoid him whenever possible.

Up close, Bash is even more handsome than when he’s strutting around campus. Of all the people to knock me over, it had to be Sebastian Prince. His cocky grin repulses me even though he seems to have the opposite effect on my body that’s all too aware of him. One glance from Bash was all it ever took. Today is no different.

He brushes the hair off my face to get better look at my cheek. “Are you okay, Queenie?” His voice is deeper, sexier, than I remember.

It’s been so long since we’ve spoken to each other. What do I even say? He makes me nervous, always has. We haven’t had many classes together since I’d made it a point to drop every class we shared since our breakup.

I blush ten shades of pink from my cheeks to my neck, distracted by emerald irises set under dark brows and the eye black smeared beneath his lower lids.

When I don’t respond to Queenie, the nickname he had given me years ago, he chooses the name only close friends use when speaking to me.

“Tori, can you hear me?” His voice is softer but still firm. “Say something.” He takes off his helmet and sets in on the ground next to him.


Tags: Jillian Quinn Face-Off Romance