Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“Oh.” I swallow my laughter. “Well. I mean, that’s a big commitment.”
Rex snorts.
“If you agree to help me, there is a chance I’ll be handling your balls, though.”
“What!” Fitz sputters, turning to scowl at me. “Dean said you just needed models.”
“Dean?” Lockett leans forward, recognition filling his dark eyes. “Oh shit. Dean Di Laurentis? Heyward-Di Laurentis? You’re Dean’s sister?”
“Yup. And I need six models for my fashion show,” I explain to the football players. There are only five of them in the room, but if at least two or three agree, I’m sure they could recruit the number I need. “We’ll have to take measurements and do some fittings. And like I said, I might accidentally touch your junk. Sorry in advance.”
“Never apologize for touching a man’s junk,” Rex tells me.
Bibby, a tight end with a bushy red beard, looks curious. “What would we be modeling?”
“Swimwear.”
“Dibs on the Speedo!” Lockett says immediately.
C-Mac’s hand shoots up. “Dibs on the thong.”
I’m surprised at how easy this is. But in case they’re pulling my leg, I offer more details to judge their sincerity. “The show is a month from now, right before spring break. I’m still in the design stage, but if I get a commitment from you, we’ll take measurements in the next few days and start fittings in a couple of weeks. We’ll also do some runway coaching—”
“I don’t need runway coaching,” Lockett interrupts. “I’ve watched America’s Next Top Model.”
“Same,” Jules chimes in. “Tyra’s got nothing on me.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Yup. These are exactly the guys I need. “So you’re in?” My gaze conducts a sweep of the room. “All of you?”
Everyone nods. “We’ll be there,” Rex promises.
“She needs one more, though,” Bibby says. He glances over at me. “I’ll ask Chris.”
I have no idea who Chris is, but I reply with, “Sounds good. Thank you.”
He shrugs. “Anything for a Di Laurentis.”
Rex nods fervently. “Your brother used to chill here all the time. He was good friends with a lot of our seniors.”
“I know.” Before I can stop it, a lump of sorrow rises in my throat. “Beau’s death hit him pretty hard.”
It hit me pretty hard too, but I don’t say that out loud. Beau Maxwell played quarterback for Briar for three seasons and died in a car accident last year. After I’d heard the news, I’d locked myself in my room at the Kappa house and cried my eyes out. Dean doesn’t know this, but Beau and I made out once. It was a stupid drunken thing, and we both swore we’d take it to the grave because neither of us wanted to deal with my brother’s wrath.
My heart squeezes painfully as I realize that Beau really did take our secret to the grave.
“Beau was good people,” Rex says gruffly, and the mood in the room grows somber.
“Anyway.” Fitz clears his throat. “We should be taking off.”
“I’ll start a group chat for us on MyBri,” I tell the guys. “And thank you so much for doing this.”
They don’t let me leave right away—first, each one has to swallow me up in a bear hug, while Fitz watches with resigned eyes.
“Does every single hetero male on this planet fall in love with you on sight?” he mutters when we’re outside again.
“No. Some fall in lust.” I spare him a pithy look. “And some fool around with me and then pretend it never happened.”
He halts about five feet from our cars. “I’m not pretending it didn’t happen.”
“No? So you’re avoiding me for no reason, then? Just for funsies?” Gritting my teeth, I bulldoze past him.
He catches up to me as I reach the Audi. “Summer. Come on. Wait.”
“Wait for what?” I snap. “For you to decide that I’m worthy of your time and attention?”
His brown eyes widen. “What—”
“Isn’t that what it boils down to?” I cut in, bitterness staining my tone. “I’m not someone you want to spend time with.”
“That’s not true.”
“Fine. I’ll amend that. I’m okay to hook up with, but I don’t deserve a conversation about it afterward.”
“Stop saying those words,” he growls. “Worthy. Deserve. That’s not what this is about.”
“What’s this?” I burst out, my frustration levels skyrocketing. “Seriously, Fitz. What is this? You rub up against me outside Malone’s, and then you drive away. I get on my knees for you in the locker room, and then you disappear for two days. I have no clue how you feel about me at all. So forgive me for assuming that you don’t want me.” My mouth twists in a humorless smile. “Why would I ever think that, right?” Sarcasm creeps into my voice. “I mean, a guy runs for the hills after I blow him. That means he’s super into me, right?”
Guilt flickers in his eyes at the mention of the blowjob. But he remains maddeningly silent.