“No thanks.”
She sighed, her hand dropping down to rest across her chest as a wounded expression flitted across her face. “Okay. I deserve that, but you have to forgive me someday. Please. I’m sorry for . . . everything.”
Everything? She’d tried to trap me into marrying her.
Someone bumped into me to get to a seat, and I looked around, realizing we’d been stopped too long and were impeding the traffic. Other students sidestepped around us to get to their seats.
Shit, shit, shit. I wasn’t handling this well. I should be the first one to walk away. I should—
Sunny wrapped an arm around my waist and leaned into me. She couldn’t make it any plainer that I was hers. I relaxed.
“I’m sorry, have we met? I’m Sunny, Max’s new . . .” she stumbled a bit, but managed to push out, “girlfriend.”
“Bianca,” she retorted, “his ex-girlfriend.” She turned back to me, her eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize you were dating someone.”
“I don’t have to keep you updated,” I said curtly.
She sniffed at Sunny dismissively, assessing her casual shirt and flip-flops. A tiny curl formed on her lips. “Not your usual, Max.” She flicked her hair, a glint of malice in her gaze. “I’ll be sure and tell Felix you said hello.”
My hands clenched, remembering how he’d picked my lock. “Better yet, tell him he’s a cocksucker who can’t throw a decent pass. Maybe he should tryout for cheerleading.”
She laughed low under her breath and waltzed off, making me fume. My emotional reaction was what she craved.
“Let’s go,” I said to Sunny.
She nodded and followed me as I headed toward two seats midway back from the podium. “Well, that was uncomfortable,” she said, sending me a side-eye. “Now maybe she’ll leave you alone for a bit. That is what you really want, right?”
My lips flattened. “I am done with her.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I am.”
Yet, I couldn’t deny there’s something about a girl who shits on you that always makes you wonder where you went wrong.
We got out our books just as Ryn, an offensive lineman, took the seat behind me. A huge Asian player from California, he was a destroyer on the field.
I introduced him to Sunny, and when he asked how we’d met, I froze. I hadn’t planned on concocting a story, but I fumbled around and ended up telling an elaborate story about how we met at the Phi Alpha toga party last spring. Famously known as one of the craziest parties of the year, it was the first thing that popped in my head, but I wasn’t even sure I’d been at that particular one.
“ . . . we ended up kissing in the bathroom at the party, and when I saw her again this summer, we started dating.”
Total BS.
“Where did you meet this summer?” he asked.
I blinked. Lying was harder than I thought.
Sunny jumped in. “At the Orion Coffee Shoppe on Third Street. They have the best lattes and chocolate croissants in Atlanta. He spilled his water on me—I mean, who drinks water in a coffee shop?—and the rest is history.” She smiled broadly and fluttered her eyes at me.
Two thoughts hit me at once. First, Sunny was a great actress. Second, I had never heard of this coffee place—but obviously she liked it. I made a mental note to find out where it was.
“Dude. That’s awesome,” Ryn said, sending me a knowing glance. “You deserve someone good after Bianca.”
Yeah. The entire team had seen how she and Felix affected my game.
I felt a malevolent gaze on me, like someone wanted to shove a stick of dynamite up my ass. I flicked my eyes one row over and found Bart’s eyes on me.
Well, well, well. First Bianca and now the douche-canoe.
I straightened in my chair. Hell, I was tempted to blow him a fucking kiss—but I had to keep my temper in check. Football demanded it.
He jerked out of his chair and made his way over to us.
Sunny
THE GUY WHO’D BROKEN MY heart was walking straight to where I sat. A handsome, All-American type, I’d met Bart at the library when he’d been on the hunt for a book about Jane Austen for a research paper. I fell for him immediately. He was a sexy athlete who read books and could talk about interesting authors. Duh.
He’d probably read up on Cliff Notes before our dates.
I inhaled a deep breath. Prepare thyself for drama, Sunny.
He halted in front of my desk. His usually perfectly styled auburn hair was in disarray as if he’d recently raked his hand through it. Long on top, he wore it in a dramatic swept back fashion that reminded me of Edward Cullen. It had been a little joke between us—Bart, my sparkly vampire.