Page 17 of Return Policy

Son of a bitch, how many more boots will I have to kiss tonight before I find this damn girl.

I’m spinning in circles, but she’s nowhere in sight.

“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath as I drag my fingers through my hair. “Shit. Fuck. Son of a bitch. Damnit.” I curse at no one. The second chance I had to get her number, and I’ve motherfuckin’ mucked it.

Turning around to head back to the bar, I blow out a breath, feeling defeated. My feet stall at the sight of a curious, amused face staring at me with arms folded over her chest.

A wide smile spreads across my lips as I stand there, breathless, like a fucking lovesick idiot. “Sophia.”

“Hi?” she replies with narrowed eyes. “Do I know you?”

My mouth parts open as my brows furrow in shock. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her for months, and she doesn’t even recognize me. “Seriously?” Her pondering expression turns playful as the corners of her mouth tug upwards. “Oh, aren’t you just fuckin’hilarious!”

“Sorry.” She giggles. “Thought I’d make you sweat a little first.”

“Oh, really?” I raise both brows.

“Yep… Were you looking for me?”

“Maybe.” My eyes rake over her, drinking in every delicious drop of the tight black silk dress hugging her gorgeous curves.

“Why?” She forces a smile, her jaw tight. “Looked like you were plenty occupied in there.”

My eyebrows rise in surprise. “So you already knew I was here? Why didn’t you come say hi?”

She shrugs, maintaining her persona of indifference. “Didn’t want to interrupt your lap dance.”

“I promise, that’s a non-issue.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, unconvinced, eyes full of disdain.

I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. “Are you jealous?”

“Strangers don’t have the right to be jealous, do they?” she asks as the little green monster line dances in her eyes.

“How about we befriendsinstead?”Friends? What the fuck was that?

“Friends?” she asks.

“Yeah, you know, two people who hang out, talk, and have each other's phone numbers in case of emergencies…Friends.”

Who the hell enters the friend zone willingly? Especially with a girl like this.

An idiot, that’s who.

“Hmm… It’s an interesting prospect.” Her face remains passive. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Think about it?” Girls usually rip the phone out of my hand to put their number in, and this girl has to… think about it? “What the hell is there to think about?”

She twirls a piece of her golden hair, seemingly unaffected. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to start the semester knowing more than just my friends from home.”

“Yeah, maybe being friends with a football player will improve your social standing.”Smooth, you cocky bastard.

“You’re on thefootballteam?” Her brows pinch together, and she almost looks… disappointed? Disgusted?

That can’t be right.

“Yeah?” I pause, trying to gauge her reaction. “You figured out all that stuff about me the last time we met, but you didn’t realize I was a cocky jock?”

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