Page 17 of Game Plan

“Don’t ever say you’d date your own brother again. Yuck. Mine was a hockey player too years ago…and a serial dater. Now he’s a country music star. Not sure if he’s changed his ways with women, though.”

“For real? What’s his name? Can you introduce us if things with Shawn don’t work out? I can see myself dating a musician. I’m sure his voice sounds like sex when he sings. They all do.”

I snickered. “Not a good idea, believe me. I’ll tell you his name one day. He has a stage name, so don’t bother trying to look him up. You won’t find him.”

“Do you think guitarists are good with their fingers?”

I pretended to gag. “Stop. You are putting images in my head I never wanted in the first place. Ugh.” A chill lined my spine, and I shook it off with a roll of my shoulders. “Anyway, back to your brother. I’m sure he’s nice and everything, but seriously, I’m not in the mood for blind dates and stuff. If my relationship with Jayden taught me something, it is that I should stay away from athletes…and guys in general, and focus on myself. For now. I’ve been burned twice by football players. Never again. When we agreed to try the long-distance thing, I never would have thought Jayden would call it quits within a few weeks.”

“He didn’t deserve you. Football players think they’re more important than they really are. People treat them like they’re better than the rest of us. It’s a truckload of crap if you ask me. Think about my offer. Jett is in town because his landlord is fixing the bathroom in his apartment off-campus. Since his college is just forty minutes from here, he drives back and forth every day and is crashing on Shawn’s couch for the time being.”

“Can’t he stay at one of his friends’ or teammates’? That would be a much shorter drive to get to school every day, no?”

“That’s what I said. He’s friends with Shawn, and according to him, we don’t see each other enough as it is, so it gives him an excuse to spend some time with his baby sister.”

“It’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She pulled her jacket shut with one hand as a gust of wind blew in. “Anyway, back to business. For the record, he would never dump you for shitty reasons or cheat on you because he knows for a fact I would rip his balls off in his sleep if he ever hurts anyone I care about and force him to eat them for breakfast.”

“Stop. More visuals I don’t need or didn’t request.”

“Our sibling relationship is quite colorful.”

“I can see that. My brother and I aren’t that close. He’s five years older than me, and for the longest time, we barely had anything in common. We’re trying to fix that.”

“Is it working?”

“We talk on the phone more often. He’s supposed to visit for a weekend later this year, and he says I can go spend a week in Nashville with him during Spring Break if I can get off work.”

“That’s exciting. If he ever comes to visit, I really want you to introduce me. About Jett, are you sure you don’t wanna meet him?”

I rolled my eyes in fake annoyance. “You won’t let it go, right?”

She shook her head no.

“Fine,” I said, laughing. “I’ll think about it.” I plastered a curl on my lips, praying it looked genuine.

We walked into our Written Media class and sat by the door on the left side of the room. The professor, a middle-aged man in wire-frame glasses with stubble and a longish, side-swept haircut, walked to the front and lifted a hand to silence us before raking his fingers through his hair in slow motion.

“Care to tell me why I think Professor Hugh is hot? He’s wearing brown corduroy pants and plaid shirts, for God’s sake. I’ve never been attracted to older men before him, and the ones I usually find sexy don’t look like him.”

I snickered behind my fist. “I kinda get what you mean. I think it’s the glasses and the haircut. It gives him a geeky yet edgy style. A bit like the expensive gold watches in printed ads. You don’t want one, but you find them fascinating. I heard a group of girls last week ask him if he was married, so you’re not the only one with a professor crush.” I shrugged.

A guy sitting in front of us swiveled in his seat. “Can you stop talking? I can’t concentrate.”

“Sorry.” My friend raised her hands in surrender before looking at me and pinching her lips together to avoid laughing.

I was taking notes, focused on the lecture, when my phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me. I grabbed the device and frowned when a picture of a guy about my age with dark hair and brown eyes stared back at me. He had cheek dimples and thick brows, the right one split in two due to what I assumed had been stitches.

Another text message came in.

Jules

I wish you could see your face right now. Be honest, you love what you see.

I clamped my mouth shut. Yes, maybe I was drooling, but in my defense, the guy was hot…like really hot.

Me