Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“No, not him!” one of the players called out, starting to laugh, silly and joyful. “Logan! The Professor!”
I paused for a moment, cocking my head to one side. Everybody looked past Brody to me, and for a split second I thought I was in some sort of weird dream.
In what world did I walk into a frat house—with big, oak beams on the ceiling, red plastic cups everywhere, dancing, and loud music—and I was the one being greeted like I was somebody important?
“Lo-gan! Lo-gan! Lo-gan! Beer pong champion of the fucking world!”
I broke out into laughter as Brody turned around, giving me a little deferential bow. “I guess you’re the man of the hour tonight, cutie,” he said to me, a twinkle in his eye.
I liked hearing him call me “cutie.” Loved it, actually. And that little burst of happiness pushed my adrenaline over the edge just enough.
“The Professor is in the house!” I bellowed, doing my best impression of a hyped-up frat house footballer. Everybody in the front of the house cheered, and finally, Brody and I started to make our way into the kitchen.
“They adore you,” Brody said.
I felt like I was floating somewhere above myself. “There have been a lot of surreal moments lately, but that might actually take the cake,” I said.
Brody laughed. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Strangely good,” I said.
The warm welcome quelled any fears I had about going to another big party with Brody, too. Even though we both had decided that we were just going to completely ignore anything the gossip sites posted—vowing to not look at any comments—there was still a nagging thought hanging at the back of my mind as we walked up the steps to the house. I knew it was in the back of Brody’s mind, too.
He worried about me, still. Even though it had been a few weeks since the first forum post about me, and I’d promised him over and over again that I was just going to ignore it, I knew he wanted to protect me. And I knew he was thinking about it, too, as we walked up the steps to this house.
I had wondered if anybody here would be judging me. Thinking that I “wasn’t good enough” for Brody or that we were an odd pairing.
But the warm welcome I’d just gotten had smashed all of those fears right out of my head. It didn’t matter what some straggling partiers and sad people on gossip forums might think of me.
Because astonishingly, the whole KMU Wolves team seemed to have accepted me warmly into their circle.
“Whiskey and Coke? I’m having a whiskey and Coke,” Brody said as we made our way to the bar.
“Sounds perfect,” I said.
As Brody whipped up our drinks, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Vance, ready to party, already a couple of drinks in.
He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “It’s all ready for him. When should we give it to him?” he said softly.
“Maybe after a few rounds of beer pong,” I said, trying to keep my voice hushed and also make sure Brody didn’t notice we were acting suspicious.
Vance nodded. “Good idea. Make him feel better after you pummel him,” he said.
I suppressed a laugh.
A few days ago, I’d secretly met up with Vance and given him a blank, leather-bound notebook. I’d instructed him to pass it around to all of the members of the football team, including Coach Baylin, and to have everyone write messages to Brody inside. I told him that it could be memories they had together, stories, hopes for the future, or even pictures.
I didn’t necessarily expect much. I guessed that it would probably end up simple, like a little time-capsule yearbook, something for Brody to have and keep forever, as a memory of his time on the Wolves.
I just hoped he would like it when we gave it to him later tonight.
I made my way back over to Brody and rubbed my palm over the side of his body.
“You feeling okay still?” I asked.
“I’m doing all right,” he said. “It still feels a little achy, but it’ll be fine until the morning.”
“Okay, good,” I said. “Because there’s no way you’re getting out of going to the doctor’s tomorrow.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” he said.
“I promise I’m not trying to nag,” I said. “I just want to make sure you’re really okay.”
“Maybe I like you nagging me,” Brody said, his tone turning a little saucy as he passed me my drink.
“Oh yeah?”
He nodded, his eyes trailing up and down my body. “It means you actually care about me. And that’s the best feeling in the world. But it also means I get free reign to nag you, in the future, about anything I want.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Anything you want, huh?”