by Sara Ney
I cross my arms, shooting the guys a look of disbelief. “Yes, I know what the CWS is Cameron—and Iowa didn’t win it.”
“Yes they did!” She laughs. “Derek threw the winning pitch—he’s seriously amazing, Scarlett, you should hear the story.” She has her entire arm wrapped around his bicep, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “Tell her the story Derek.”
I look at Ben. Glance at Derek. Back at the girls I came with and shake my head, dismayed.
“You realize these two are full of shit, right?” The red cup hits my lips and I take a swig, flipping my hair. “USC won the College World Series last year—they win it almost every year.” The water tastes warm now, tepid at best, as it flows down my throat.
“How the hell would you know that, Miss Know It All?” Ben, challenges me.
Miss Know It All? Wow. I haven’t been called that nickname since middle school.
“My dad. He’s not a huge fan of the major leagues, but he loves college ball.” I tap my chin with a forefinger. “I remember last summer, he had the damn finals on for an entire week, on every TV in the house; we all had to watch that dumb game—no offense. The College World series is in June, right? I think I’m remembering that right…”
When my sentence trails off, Derek jerks his head in a terse nod at Ben, crossing his arms and spreading his legs in a defensive pose.
Raises his brows. Nods toward the kitchen.
“Anyway,” I chatter in an attempt to redeem myself. “I just remember being home and my dad watching that game—the highlights would be on when I left for work, and the game would be on when I got home from work. USC won that tournament, I’m sure of it.”
Both Cam and Tessa, are having a hard time following the conversation. “Why would you say you won?”
I blow out a puff of air, gently tugging the sweater from my skin and giving it a few shakes to let the cooler air inside. “They lied because they’re trying to impress you—kind of lame if you ask me. I mean, honestly, you guys are good looking, you shouldn’t have to make shit up. Weak. So. Weak.”
I push out my fourth nervous laugh of the evening, hoping they’ll be amused by the teasing tone of voice and take pity on me.
“You’re not going to stand here with us all night, are you?”
“What else would I do?”
“I can call one of the rookies to take you home so you don’t have to stand here all night.” Ben drapes his arm around Tessa’s shoulders. “Besides, I want to get to know your friend better and you’re making it impossible.” He tilts her chin up with his thumb, staring down into her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like that?”
Tessa nods, dumbly.
“Thanks, but we came together and we should leave together—Girl Code and all that.”
The last thing I need is these two apes putting date rape drugs in my friends’ beer and doing god-knows-what, given the chance.
“We’ll take real good care of your friends.” He tries to back away.
“I have no doubt about that.” I grip his forearm as he grins wolfishly down at Tessa. Holy shit is it solid. I give my head a shake. “I haven’t seen these two in over a year, and I’m not leaving them here with you.”
He glares down at me. “What’s in that water that’s making you so goddamn bitchy?”
Tessa and Cameron volley back and forth between us, eyes wide as saucers. Horrified and tipsy and excited.
“You did not just call me bitchy.” No one has ever called me that—not once—and if I wasn’t so pissed off, I’d be embarrassed. All I’m trying to do is be a good friend, and these assholes are making it impossible.
“Don’t call her bitchy, Ben, it’s mean,” Tessa scolds, narrowing her eyes and smacking at his arm. “You should apologize.”
He rolls his neck, as if he’s getting the kinks out, his big, brown eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “If it’s not the sobriety making her act this way, it must be the ugly sweater.”
I glance down at my beige mohair confection, affronted. “I was cold. And I was sick!”
“Aren’t you fucking hot?”
“Yes.” I admit begrudgingly.
“You should go outside then and get some fresh air.”
Yeah, that would feel great—but no way am I leaving my friends unattended with these two assholes. Lord knows where they would disappear to.
The blond, Ben, casually arches a brow and the guys exchange another glance—so damn shady. I watch as he casually eases out of the conversation and disappears into the crowd, causing Cameron’s lip to bottom out in a pout. Arms to cross. Boobs to rise above the low neckline of her shirt.
“What did you say your name was?” Derek asks me.
My arms cross defensively. “It’s not Charlotte.”
His face is a blank canvas; impassive. Stony. And directed at me. “Are you going to tell me your name again or not.”
I make a hmph sound that he probably can’t hear over the noise. “Scarlett.”
His mouth curves. “Sober Scarlett.”
“Oh so you think you’re clever now cause you can rhyme?” I hold up my red plastic cup, raising it in a toast. “Got any other set of skills?”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with my other set of skills.” He chuckles, pleased with his innuendo; thinks he’s being clever. Tessa must agree because the cheesy line throws her into a giggle fit.
Gross Tessa, no.
Get better taste in men!
Honestly, what is it with these guys?
Bunch of douchey jockholes, congregating in one small space. The room lacks oxygen; that must be why they’re acting like assholes.
I smirk at my own joke, but am still unable to figure out why Tessa and Cam find these idiots so damn charming. Crude and unoriginal, Ben and Derek have one modicum of sense between them. I can tell by the cold glint in Derek’s eye that he’s a colossal asshole and is reigning it in for my friend’s benefit.
Stereotypical D1 student athlete.
Hmph.
I sigh into my water cup. What a shame. God wasted all that talent and those incredible bodies on these two creeps.
Amazing bodies; average personalities.
What dicks.
Derek’s face goes from a scowl to a megawatt smile when his buddy Ben reappears. “Heads up Cock Blocker, the cavalry has arrived.”
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About the Author
Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances.
Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced lattes, historical architecture, and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.
Sign up for Sara’s Newsletter to find out about her book releases, and read real-life “Sara Dates A Douchebag” stories only found in her newsletter!
For more information about Sara Ney and her books, visit: https://authorsaraney.com
Also by Sara Ney
The Kiss & Make Up Series
Kissing in Cars
He Kissed Me First
A Kiss Like This
#ThreeLittleLies Series
Things Liars Say
Things Liars Hide
Things Liars Fake
How to Date a Douchebag Series
The Studying Hours
The Failing Hours
The Learning Hours
The Coaching Hours
The Lying Hours
The Teaching Hours
Jock Hard Series
Switch Hitter
Jock Row
Jock Rule
Switch Bidder
Jock Road
The Bachelors Club Series
Bachelor Society
Bachelor Boss
Trophy Boyfriends Series
Hard Pass
Hard Fall
Hard Love
Hard Luck
The Bachelo
r Society Duet: The Bachelors Club
