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"Yes, your Mustang." Piper showed me the next two photos. "All of your cars."
"Goddammit. Fucking Marrs stole all my fucking cars. This is bullshit."
For what purpose? Weren’t there laws against this? Against inhumane torture? My Civics course had great presentations, but the reading had been hard to get through. Regardless, they couldn’t do this to me. I’d get back my cars—
—and probably lose my spot on the football team.
Fuck. Me.
And there was Piper, standing in front of me with her hands on her hips and a hard look in her eyes. "We’re leaving in five minutes. You better be ready to go."
"Not in the airport auction van—"
Piper scratched a note on her clipboard. "We’re representatives of our university. And this is what the funds could allocate for."
"This?"
"We aren’t the football team, Adam. Until my babysitting-a-football-player money kicks in, this is what we have to work with."
Damn.
I rubbed my chest like she’d jabbed at it again. I was a big part of Marrs University and I almost opened my mouth to argue when I really thought about it.
The football team had blank checks. Our coaches had blank checks. Our training center had blank checks. Even our charter buses had state-of-the-art ass warming seats just for us. Never in my two and a half years at Marrs did I ever think about things like bottom lines or budgets.
I shook my head. "Well, they probably stole this van—"
"Would you shut up?" Piper demanded.
I frowned. Did Piper Fontaine just tell me to shut up?
"Shut up," she repeated, shoving the end of the clipboard at my chest. "Do you hear yourself sometimes? I am so sick and tired of your complaining!" She deepened her voice in a mock impersonation. "Oh, my name’s Adam, and they took all my expensive cars for the weekend. My life is so hard! What am I going to do?" Piper threw her hands up in the air. "I’m sorry we’re not traveling better. Don’t you think this is new for me too? But at least I’m not whining about it."
I stared at her. "I’m not whining."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I’m not."
"That’s all you ever do!"
"What—?" I stopped myself and tried to find the words again, but Piper breezed past me. I glanced over my shoulder, still trying to figure out what to say. And there were all those curious eyes from the van. Nosy bastards.
"That’s not—you know what? Piper, you know what? I’m going to take a taxi. What then?"
Piper scribbled something on her clipboard again and said matter-of-factly, "I’ll text your coach."
My eyes narrowed.
"Put your bags in the van," she finished.
This woman had my balls in a vice, and I had never been in that position. Ever. And there she was, waltzing away in those skinny jeans that hugged her ass too nice for a trip to purgatory like this.
14
Piper
Only One Seat Left
