by Nana Malone
Gage
Nana Malone
Sankofa Girl
Contents
BACK COVER
Complimentary Download
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Thank You
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Nana Malone Reading List
About Nana Malone
To kidlet, you drive me to drink…milk. I love you angel face.
BACK COVER
Money, power, prestige…Legacy. Gage Coulter is —The Player.
His whole life, all, basketball player, Gage Coulter, has heard is how he was meant to play basketball. Meant to be elite. So what happens if he can’t even play on the damn team? With his starting position in jeopardy, he needs help from the one girl on campus who can’t stand him. Too bad, she’s also the one girl he can’t get out of his head.
Becker Johnson has a plan for her life. And it doesn’t include doing some jock’s homework so he can toss a ball in the net or whatever. She’s getting the Collins Scholarship and moving to New York. See, all planned out. Until her advisor drops a bombshell. While her grades are excellent, she’ll need some work experience to be eligible for the scholarship. And lucky Becker, he’s got just the right student for her.
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One
Was it time to go home yet?
Becker Johnson surreptitiously checked her watch. All she wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed, and forget this lame attempt at partying. There was a reason she didn't do these things anymore. That Becker was long gone. This Becker preferred quiet nights at home with a good book.
“Honey, this was your idea. You wanted to have the college experience. You should have at it,” Avery Reynolds said.
Her best friend was right. This had been her idea. This is what you get for thinking that doing the college thing would suit you. She'd attacked this whole party thing with a project plan. What to wear to fit in, the hair, the makeup. Exactly how to avoid drinking out of one of those red cups. Well, she was still drinking out of a red cup, but she was drinking water. Water that she poured herself. She knew better by now.
“Okay, you're right. Let's hit the dance floor.” She took Avery’s hand and dragged her to the middle of the dance floor. Avery's red cup was filled with something out of the keg. But she’d been nursing the same beer all night. Because that's what best friends did.
When you were doing something that freaked you the hell out, your bestie came along and barely drank so you wouldn't have to brave the crowds by yourself…and she looked out for you. Becker had definitely lucked out with a friend like Avery.
As they danced, it was easier to let go, moving to hip-hop-infused pop music that blared from the speakers. There was so much bass in the music, the floor shook.
Guys looked on as they danced. Many of them were dancing on the periphery and didn't dare approach because Avery gave excellent stank face. But one guy in particular wasn't scared off, asking Avery repeatedly to dance, even after she told him that she was dancing with her friend.
Becker shook her head. “No, go dance. I need to find a bathroom, anyway.”
Avery's brows snapped down. “I'll come with you.”
“Look, I'm fine. All I’ve had all night is water. I can handle making it to the bathroom.” She pulled her keys out of her back pocket. “Besides, I've got this. Tiny pepper spray. I’m good.”
Avery nodded. “Okay. I'll be right here. I'm not leaving without you. So come right back and find me. If you're not down in ten minutes, I'm coming for you.”
Becker believed her. Avery on a warpath was not something anyone wanted to see. Becker took the back stairs, skirting around the couple that was making out partway down. She saw several taped signs that read, “Bathroom this way.” When she finally found the bathroom, there were four girls waiting in line already. One girl shifted on her feet. “God, you'd think this was a fraternity party. There should be lots of open bathrooms.”
The girl in front of her turned. “I think Connor's room is empty. There's a bathroom in there.”
The first girl frowned. “I'm not using that bathroom. After the way he dumped me, I'm not going anywhere near any of his stuff.”
Her friend looked down the hall longingly, but appeared to be taking the girl-code stance, staying with her friend as they waited for the other bathroom.
Becker, however, did not have that same girl code of ethics. For Avery, yes; for some random girl at a party, no. She was going to use this Connor's bathroom.
She found his room at the end of the hall, the door wide open. And she left it that way. Easier to see her escape route. The bathroom door was open, and she jogged in, relieved that she could finally pee. When she was finished, she washed her hands, and gave herself another pep talk. “You can do this. It's a party. Just a party.”
Her mind stuttered over the replay of what had happened the last time she'd gone to a party. No, she wasn't going to do that. She was not that same girl. She was in absolute control of her destiny.
And lo and behold, the panic didn't set in. The walls weren't closing in, and she didn't feel the need to run. Instead, she lifted her chin, and squared her shoulders. This was a party. She was going to have fun. Do all the partying things. She'd promised herself and Avery. She didn't want this year to be like last year, hiding everything about herself that she used to love.
She opened the bathroom door, and stopped short. The bedroom door was closed. What the fuck? It took her a panicked heartbeat before she realized that there were people in the bedroom. The girl was tugging on the guy's shirt, pulling them back towards the bed.
“Come on, this is supposed to be fun.”
His big shoulders shrugged. “Look, let's just go back to the party. I'm not really into this tonight.”
The girl pouted, sticking out her cherry-red glossed lip. “What's the matter? You don't think I'm pretty?”
The guy turned slightly, and Becker got a good look at his profile. Tall and leanly muscled. Everything about him screamed ‘athlete.’ From the artfully messy disarray of his hair to the dominating height, to the way he carried his body. Competent. And then, well, there were the muscles. He was cute, but she knew that a cute athlete was not on her list of must-dos. She knew better.
“You know you're pretty. And this has nothing to do with you. I'm just not into any of this right now.”
“Well, you better take your opportunity now, because when the season starts—”
Becker stopped listening as she realized just where the girl was going with this. They were about to do it… With her stuck in the bathroom. Oh, come on. She tugged her phone out of her back pocket and sent a quick text to Avery.
Becker: Stuck in the bathroom of this bedroom while this couple are about to do it. Send reinforcements. The room's labeled ‘Connor's room.’
She hit sen
d, and stepped back. There was no graceful way to make it out of here. If she walked out now it would be easier, but at the same time, she was rooted where she stood.
“Come on, Gage. You think I'm pretty. And you, well you're hot. This works.”
Gage placed his hand on the blonde's shoulder. “Crystal, I'm not sure—”
Crystal wasn't taking no for an answer, though. She reached for his belt buckle, tugging it free from the loop.
“Fuck.” He swallowed hard. He angled his head, and Becker was mesmerized by his profile. His face looked like it had been sculpted from marble. Sharp cheekbones, strong jaw. The guy had a freaking cleft in his chin, for the love of God. That wasn't even fair. How was the panty-wearing population supposed to cope? Becker waited for the guy to try and stop blondie again. Waited for him to walk away from a free blow job.
To be fair, she couldn't really blame him. But when he didn't walk away, she was somehow still disappointed. Becker tried to close the door, but she realized that it wasn't going to shut easily. It probably required force to close properly. And if she did that, they'd hear her. Damn it.
Crystal sank to her knees in front of Gage. And instead of looking at her, Gage threw his head back and covered his face with his hand. His brows knit down, and the muscle in his jaw worked. He looked angry, maybe. Worried? That was hardly the look of a guy who was totally into this.
Becker couldn't take her eyes off him. As much she loathed athletes in general, she couldn't help but admit that he was cute. More than cute, actually. There was something about him that made her wish he was just a regular guy. Becker could only stare, fascinated, as Crystal pulled him out of his boxers. The girl actually licked her lips. Was she for real?
Becker couldn't help but stare. Because while she'd always heard that girls wanted a guy with a big dick, she had zero frame of reference. But from what she could gather from Crystal's expression, Gage probably made the top of a lot of women's lists.
Crystal wrapped her hand around the length of him, then moaned low as she took him in her mouth.
Well, there you go. Becker swallowed hard. She was officially a voyeur. But she wasn’t so much watching Crystal as she was watching Gage.
The guy was getting a blowjob at a party, but somehow he didn't look even remotely happy about it. Instead, a deep frown marred his otherwise beautiful forehead. As if this was the last place on earth he wanted to be. And then her gaze shot back down to Crystal, who was very clearly doing her best to make Gage's night.
There really was nowhere for Becker to go. If she made a single sound in this bathroom, her attempt at normalcy in college would evaporate. Don't watch. Don't watch, don't—
She tried not to. She really did. But she couldn't close her eyes. Her gaze was torn between Gage's beautiful face and the size of his massive erection as Crystal worked him.
Given her history, she should have been scared, repulsed, anything other than…intrigued. Curious…Hot.
The more she watched, the more she became completely transfixed by his face. And then she felt it. Heat. Blooming in her chest. What the hell was that? Her gaze flew back to his face. But instead of the frown she expected as he looked down on Crystal, he was looking precisely in her direction. She knew the light was dimmed in the bathroom. There was no way he could see her. Could he?
She held her breath, but he didn't say a word. His electric-blue gaze set on hers. Not on the girl in front of him, sucking him deep. His lips parted as he watched her, and Becker could not tear her gaze away from him.
From her spot on the floor, Crystal murmured, “See? I told you you'd get into it.”
Heat pooled in Becker's core. Was she the reason for his sudden interest? Did he see her? Was he getting hot for her? Or because she was watching them? His hands slid into Crystal's hair, but his eyes never left Becker's. He licked his bottom lip as he continued to watch her.
Something hit low in Becker's belly. Oh, jeez. What was she doing? You’re eye-fucking that guy as some women gives him head, her brain ever-so-helpfully offered.
And that was it, she had to stop. In about three seconds she was going to drag her eyes away from him, and not look on. And then she was going to hustle out of the room, run from the house, and never be seen at another party again.
But she kept staring. In front of Gage, Crystal licked the length of him and moaned deep. Becker did not want to be here for this. Suddenly, she realized that Gage was no longer looking in her direction.
Becker took the opportunity. She wasn't going to get another one. While they were busy, Gage's hands fisting in Crystal's hair, Crystal doing whatever the hell it was that she was doing, Becker made a run for it. She was out of the bathroom, then out of the bedroom, in seconds. An exclamation of surprise echoed from behind her.
She didn't slow down, didn’t look back, just ran down the stairs and into the main crowd of the party. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Holy hell, that was…the sexiest and most horrifying moment of her life. What the hell was wrong with her?
Avery was weaving her way through the crowd when Becker ran directly into her.
“Hey, I was coming to the rescue.”
Becker didn't stop. “I'll explain later. We gotta go. Right now.”
Her best friend asked no questions. Just jogged back down the stairs, through the throng, and out the side door with her. That was Avery for you: loyal.
Not exactly the ending Becker had planned on for her first party. So much for keeping a low profile.
Two
Becker sat in the hard-backed office chair, her legs crossed and her hands on her lap, trying desperately not to fidget. Who was she kidding? Her hands were clasped so tight her knuckles cracked. Cool it, Becker. There's no reason to be nervous.
She supposed it was habit. Trying to be good and well-behaved for authority figures. Her father had trained her well. Behave yourself, Becker. Do as you’re told, Becker. She wondered what would happen if she told her advisor she couldn't give two shits about school, and wanted to run away to New York to be a writer.
But she wouldn't do that. Nope. Not her style. That would be impractical. So, she did what she always did, plastered a tight smile on her face and attempted to fake it. Fake that she wasn't desperate to break out of her mold. Like you tried to do with that party?
She needed to stop thinking about the party. She slipped her right heel out of her ballet flat and bounced her toes, making the insole of the shoe slap softly against the sole of her foot. It was a quiet counterpoint to the clicks Dr. Brooks's mouse made while she sorted through Becker's transcripts.
“Well, Ms. Johnson,” Dr. Brooks said with a satisfied nod. “You are on track with all of your current courses, and ahead in your credits, thanks to those APs you had from high school.” She punched in a quick code on her keyboard. “You seem to have a set plan for what you want to do with your degree, so you might want to start looking for activities or internships that can pad your resume.”
Becker nodded, her lips pressed tightly together, before responding. “Yes, I'll be applying for the Blake Fellowship.” That fellowship was the only thing keeping these wheels on the bus. She wouldn't be able to write if she was accepted, but she would be working as an editor for Blake Publishing. The recipient got to work with Alexa Blake directly as her Junior Editor for a semester. It came with a stipend and an apartment. It was a way out, and she was so desperate for it she could cry. It was why she'd busted her ass. For those who could impress Alexa Blake, their ticket was written.
“Very prestigious.”
Becker squared her shoulders. Damn straight. It was the only thing her father would respect. “I might have to take a semester off for it, that's part of the reason I've been taking the extra classes now. I want to be able to graduate on time.”
Dr. Brooks nodded, and it looked like she might be running her tongue over her teeth. Becker spotted the professor's half-eaten sandwich tucked into the shadow of a stack of textbooks on literary theory.
“Well, you're certainly more prepared than a lot of students I advise,” Dr. Brooks said. “If you’re looking for activities that will look good on your resume and could strengthen that application, I have a few—more than a few, actually—students who I could recommend for tutoring.”
Becker frowned. Tutoring? No. She thought maybe her professor would recommend the university's literary review journal. Sure, it was only open to seniors, but with her grades… “I'm sorry, Dr. Brooks, I thought maybe the literary review—”
Dr. Brooks half chuckled, half choked. “Becker,” she said, with just a hint of patronization. “You realize you're only technically a freshman. Yes, with your AP courses and the summer courses you took before coming to Billings University, you are somewhere between a Sophomore and a Junior, but there are many students who have been waiting to work for the Lit Review for years. You have to pay your dues.”
Becker didn't want to pay more dues. She'd paid plenty already. What she wanted to do was scream. Instead, that tight smile made another appearance. She'd find a way around that little rule. After all, she was a Johnson. And if nothing else, her father taught her not to take no for an answer.
Dr. Brooks gave her a smile. “Let me explain how it would work. We have the tutoring center on campus, and you can sign up to work with them. They would give you training and a regular schedule. Students come in whenever they need to, so you would see a large variety of students who need help on specific assignments, international students who are looking for help just with their English skills…”
Becker pressed her lips together again, forcing a polite but vacant smile onto her face. Dr. Brooks switched her approach.
“The tutoring center doesn't work for everyone, though. I don't believe you qualify for work-study, and they're funded through a grant, so anything you did there would likely be on a volunteer basis. Students sometimes sign up for appointments and then blow them off, and with how busy you are, I doubt you'd be interested in wasting your time. So, I'm also putting together a list of possible tutors for academically endangered students who need more focused attention than the tutoring center can provide. Generally speaking, their schedules don't work with the center's hours, or they do better with longer sessions, being able to see the same tutor from one week to the next. I can put you on the list of people those students can contact.”
