Page 15 of Game On
I shrug, staring down into my coffee. “She did hightail it out of here.”
He studies me for a moment, his smile fading. “Ah shit. What happened?”
“Nothing, just …” I trail off with a heavy sigh, setting my mug down on the counter with a little more force than necessary. Coffee sloshes over the edges. “It doesn’t really matter. It was meant to be a one-time thing, anyway.”
“So, what’s the problem?” he presses.
“Theproblemis that I unknowingly hooked up with Whitland’s newest cheerleader.”
His grin splits into a smirk. “Classic Hudson.”
“Yeah, well, she woke up and decided she made a mistake.Aftershe got the lowdown on me from Gabi Martín. Now she thinks that I’m not good enough for her.”
He’s silent as I grab a towel and mop up the spilled coffee. “Want me to get one of the other girls to kick her ass?” he finally asks. “I know Claire could make her life hell.”
Despite myself, I crack a smile. “As tempting as that is, I’ll pass.”
He nods, taking a long swig of orange juice. When he sets his glass down, his expression is serious. “Forget about her. Any girl who writes you off after one night isn’t worth the energy.” He points a finger at me. “And I’ll be honest, it sounds like a classic case of you wanting what you can’t have. You know Coach wouldn’t be happy.”
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. I don’twanther. I’m just annoyed by it all.”
He gives me a knowing look. “Sure, bud. And you’re definitely not reeling from your first taste of rejection.”
It’s true. It’s not something I deal with often. Over the last couple of years, women have come and gone as easily as the tide. That’s the only option. A routine that enables me to focus on my goals, my priorities, and let the distractions float away.
Though, last year, I admittedly took things too far. That’s why I’ve been holding back this summer—on both the booze and the girls. Last night was a fluke.
I scoff. “Maybeyoushould reel that back a minute, Levi. Think before you speak.”
“You really are quite grumpy today.” He snorts a laugh. “Either way, you’ve got better things to worry about. Like securing that letter of rec from Coach tonight.”
I let out a heavy breath, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. “Shit, you’re right.”
“Eyes on the prize, my friend.” He claps me on the back. “You want to hit the gym before your meeting?”
I nod, my frustration dissipating. Levi’s right. I need to forget this morning’s rejection and keep my focus.
“Yeah, I’ll go change,” I say. “I could use a good workout to clear my head.”
I head up to my room, and my gaze instantly catches on the unmade bed, sheets rumpled and pillows askew. For a moment, I see flashes of smooth skin and silky hair splayed across the white linen. Vividly picture the way she curled against me as she came. It was one of the hottest moments I’ve experienced, and it’s left me aching for more.
I close my eyes, shaking the image from my mind.
The gym is exactly what I need—a place to unload and reset. To forget about last night, and subsequently, the way I felt after she left this morning. It was frustrating, but it’s not something to fret over.
As I sift through a drawer for workout gear, Sourdough saunters in, tail high, a silent witness to my turmoil. “You got something to say to me, too?” I ask him, expecting no answer but a soft meow in response. Instead, he gives me a full-on snort of disapproval. I shake my head, laughing in spite of myself. “Even my own cat is giving me shit. Fine, I hear you. I’m moving on.”
He hops onto my bed, curling up where Ella was lying mere hours ago, and turns his head away from me. Changing quickly, I bound back down the stairs toward my waiting roommate.
“You’ll be happy to know that the cat has joined your team,” I complain to him. “He thinks I’m being overlysensitive. Though, I’ll have you both know, I’ve already completely forgotten the whole thing. It’s done and dusted.”
“Right. When you bring it up again next week, do you want me or Sour to remind you what you just said?”
“Shut up.”
His loud laughter follows as I slam the door behind us, leaving the memory of Ella Davies—her seductive smile, those desperate little moans, and the lukewarm reception she gave me this morning—firmly locked inside.
CHAPTER FIVE
