Page 11 of For the Boys
Berkley didn’t immediately respond, taking time to consider what he’d said. She did have a habit of, to use Brent’s words, shutting down guys left and right. Law school didn’t allow for a lot of free time, and what little she did have she spent with her friends in an effort to decompress from classes and externships and homework and studying for the Bar and all the other day-to-day bullshit. Her dating life had certainly taken a backseat to her career, because she was of the mind that her career would stick around a lot longer than a man would. Allowing herself to rely on a relationship for fulfillment was something she refused to do because she didn’t need to be taken care of. She could take care of herself.
What could she say? She’d been burned too many times not to feel a little jaded.
But on the flip side of that, this wasBrent Jean, a millionaire star athlete who could just as easily have been a model instead of a professional hockey player. What exactly did he want with her? She had a hard time believing that she, normal Berkley Daniels, had caught the eye of someone like him.
She sighed, then looked up at her roommates. “What do I do? I don’t understand why he can’t come talk to me at the bar. It’s been two months! He’s had several opportunities to tell me this. Why now? Plus, he’s Brent Jean. He could hardly be intimidated by someone like me.”
Amelia sighed, clearly exasperated with Berkley’s self-deprecation.
“Maybe he’s just awkward?” Kimber offered.
Berkley snorted. “Doubt it.” She had been following him on social media long enough to know that he was a typical playboy athlete. He always got what he wanted, and that included women who looked like centerfolds.
“I have an idea,” Amelia said. “Gimme your phone.”
Berkley apprehensively handed it over and watched Amelia type out a message.
@BerkDaniels:How about this. If we run into each other the next time we’re both out, and you come up and talk to me, I’ll believe what you’re saying. But until then, I’m going to say thank you so much for helping me and my friends out, and good luck on the road this weekend.
Berkley chewed on her lip. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? To just basically blow him off?”
Amelia nodded. “He’s a man. Always leave them wanting more.”
“You, my dear,” Berkley said, taking her phone back, “have been spending way too much time with Lexie. Besides, he’s not just any man. He’s Brent Jean.”
Amelia pursed her lips and glared at Berkley, unimpressed. “Still a man. Just one that happens to have a pretty face and is really good at hockey.”
Berkley wasn’t sure Amelia’s laissez-faire attitude was the way to go, but given that she would make herself look like a total groupie fangirl with a more enthusiastic response, she didn’t have a choice.
Berkley slammed the door of Lexie Monroe’s apartment open, arms laden with bottles of wine and snacks, Kimber and Amelia in tow. Lexie was sprawled out on the couch, watchingGossip Girland drinking a beer.
“Oh hey, bitches,” she said. “Way to knock.” Berkley sat down on her feet at the end of the couch. Kimber and Amelia flopped onto the loveseat across from them.
“Are you going to tell her?” Amelia asked Berkley.
“Tell me what?” Lexie said absently, staring dreamily at Chace Crawford on the TV screen.
“Nothing major,” Berkley said. “Just that Brent Jean followed me on Instagram, and we spent this morning messaging.”
Lexie’s head whipped toward Berkley. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“See for yourself.” Berkley lifted her butt from Lexie’s feet to pull her phone out of her back pocket, navigating to Instagram and pulling up her list of followers. She scrolled down until she came to his name and held out her phone. Lexie snorted in disbelief.
“That’s a joke,” she said, looking at Kimber and Amelia for confirmation. “Right? You Photoshopped it or something.”
“No, I didn’t,” Berkley said. “I wouldn’t even know how to do that. Look.” Lexie watched the phone screen closely as Berkley opened the thread between her and Brent.
Lexie was in the middle of a sip of beer, which she spit out all over the floor two seconds later. “OH MY GOD!” she yelled. Kimber lept up to grab a towel.
Berkley handed over her phone, and Lexie read through the messages.
“Holy shit,” Lexie said when she finished. “You weren’t lying.”
Berkley shrugged. “I told you I wasn’t.”
“Did you just shrug? Berk, first of all, he’s smoking hot. Second, you’ve been obsessed with him forever. It’s worth more than a shrug!”
“I guess,” Berkley said. “I’m trying not to read into it, okay? It all seems a little weird. I’m just some random girl who lives in the city he happens to play for and went to the same university he did. Girls like me are a dime a dozen. Why bother?”
