Page 108 of Tempting the Player
“Go to L.A., meet with your coach or agent or whoever, try out, give it your all, and see what happens. Figure out what you want. Then talk to your brothers. Staying here and being miserable or wondering ‘what if’ isn’t the answer.”
He finally releases some of the tension he’s been holding and hugs me back. “Yeah, all right.”
I squeeze him harder. “You are a good man, Hendrick Holland.”
He doesn’t reply, but presses a kiss to the top of my head. I have a feeling I might have to repeat that sentence a few hundred times before he believes it.
* * *
“That doesn’t look like studying,” Hendrick says, pulling my attention from my phone.
I set it down on the table and glance over to where he’s sitting across the library. He isn’t looking my way, but I catch the smirk on his face.
For the past hour I’ve been going over notes and the study guide for my French midterm. And okay, fine, texting Dahlia.
“My brain hurts,” I say quietly so only he can hear me through the earpiece. The university library is packed with students doing the same thing as me. Hendrick is sitting in a chair by the stairs because he didn’t want to distract me. Studying would be a lot more fun if he were distracting me, just saying.
“Need a break? Snack? Coffee?”
“Any more caffeine and I’m going to be awake until the end of time.” I stretch. “And I promised myself I wouldn’t leave until I was positive I could get an A on this test.”
“I’m positive you’re adorable all nerdy and studious.”
“Aww, thanks. That’s the first time anyone has ever called me studious.”
He chuckles. “What do you need?”
I love how he’s always so quick to ask. Sometimes I haven’t even realized I have a problem to solve before he’s coming up with fixes. “Distract me for a few minutes.”
“I think the hundred or so other people in here might not appreciate me fucking you in the middle of the library.”
The man stares at the front doors with a bored expression as his words send tingles throughout my body.
“Aaaaand now my panties are damp.” I blow out a breath. “Maybe just a quickie in the back? I can be quiet-ish.”
He finally flicks his gaze to me and his lips curve into a knowing smile. “Liar.”
I shift in my seat. I need to move this conversation along or I’m not getting any more studying done. “What were you like in school? Did you get good grades?”
“Decent. B’s mostly. I didn’t want to be bothered with homework and studying when I could have been playing football or fucking around with my friends. I admire that about you. You work hard.”
“I wish I cared a little less sometimes,” I say. “I know that in the grand scheme of things, my grade on a French midterm isn’t going to matter. I just want to know that I can do it. Not going to regular school as a kid, I always wondered where I would have fit in. If I hadn’t been Ivy Greene, would I have been the straight-A student who stayed in every night and read ahead in class or the social butterfly who neglected her studies for boys and booze?”
His laughter is soft in my ear. “Maybe somewhere between those two, but I would have been happy to let you neglect your studies to hang out with me if you’d gone to my high school.”
“And now?”
“I have a little more restraint.”
“Too bad. I could pretend to be the eager, peppy cheerleader and you could be the broody, serious football player who needs a little extra cheer before the big game. My character on the show was a cheerleader. I look very cute in a pleated skirt.”
“I have no doubt, sweetheart.”
The endearment makes my stomach flip.
“Do you really think if I had just been another girl at your school, nerd or cheerleader or whatever, you would have still noticed me?”
Hendrick is quiet for a moment. A group of girls at the table next to me are laughing about something, holding their hands over their faces and trying to stifle their laughter so not to disturb anyone.
