On The Rebound (Steinbeck U #1) - L.A. Cotton Page 0,47
Joel. Well, I had until he’d laid eyes on my girl.
She’s not your fucking girl.
But hearing him talking about Calli made me want to rip his tongue out of his mouth.
I could have told him right then and there who she was. It would have put an end to whatever he hoped could develop between them. But where was the fun in that?
Calli had walked away from me last night with the upper hand. She’d won the battle, but the war wasn’t over yet.
Not by a long shot.
Maybe Victoria was right. Maybe tonight would be fun.
“You bringing someone to the fair tonight?” I turned my attention to Brad.
“I... uh... what?”
“The fair. There’s a bunch of us going. Joel is going to ask Calli. Hey, you should ask Josie and—”
“What the hell, Messiah? That’s my sister you’re talking about.” Joel growled the words.
“Yeah, so? She’s fair game now she’s a freshman.”
“You know the rules.” His eyes turned hard. “Sisters are off-limits.”
As if I needed reminding.
“It’s a group thing. It doesn’t mean anything,” I added.
“You know what Brad is like,” Joel grumbled.
“Hey, fucker, I’m standing right here.” A dejected look washed over Brad’s face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a dog, bro. I’m surprised your dick hasn’t fallen off yet.”
“I was with Reese for almost six months.”
“Yeah and look how that turned out.”
Brad arched a brow. “She cheated on me.”
“After you got caught kissing that volleyball player.”
“I was giving her mouth to mouth.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Me and Reese were... open like that.”
“Yeah, well, I’d appreciate it if you keep your hands away from my sister.”
Brad pinned me a hard look, and I shrugged. I wasn’t the one sexting my teammate’s sister.
No, you had your fingers inside one’s pussy though.
It was different. Semantics. Calli and I had history.
Unresolved history.
And there was no chance of it becoming anything more than that. Unlike Brad and Josie who mooned at each other every time they crossed paths.
“Are you fuckers going to stand around all day, or are we going to finish this?” Dev yelled from the court. He threw the ball in our direction and I intercepted it, bouncing it a couple of times at my feet.
“You that eager to lose, D?” Saul yelled.
A small crowd had formed in the bleachers, all eager to watch the Steinbeck Scorpions shoot hoops. Most were girls, giggling and pointing, watching with eager eyes and seductive smiles. But there was a handful of teenage boys too, watching with stars in their eyes as they imagined the day they got to walk in our shoes.
Steinbeck wasn’t just a college town; it was a basketball town. People lived, breathed, and bled basketball. The game that had, somewhere along the way, become my lifeline. The feel of rubber in my palm settled something inside me. It was strange—to need the thing you hated.
Calli’s face popped into my mind, but I quickly shook it away as I went back into the center of the court.
I didn’t need Calli.
I hadn’t needed her in years.
But I wasn’t stubborn enough to deny that some part of me still wanted her. She had those soft, curved, pouty lips, and I was a hot-blooded guy. It was biological. A simple case of chemistry.
Evolution.
My body remembered her. Her smell, her taste, the way she trembled beneath my touch. It remembered, and it wanted more.
It wanted to destroy her kiss by stolen kiss, dismantle her bravado touch by dirty, desperate touch.
Fuck. It wanted her to remember.
And then it wanted to ruin her the way she’d ruined me.
“Let’s go, Messiah. Quit stalling.” Dev flashed me a shit-eating grin. He was really pushing my buttons, but that was his style.
The guy was a cocky fucker. He should have learned by now that I didn’t play to lose.
Ever.
It was almost six and I was due to meet Victoria and the guys in thirty minutes. So when my cell rang and I saw my father’s number, I let out a frustrated groan. He was the last person I wanted to talk to.
“Zachary,” he said with a hint of agitation. “I’ve been calling.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Yes, well, it wouldn’t hurt you to find ten minutes of your schedule to return my call. How are classes?”
“They’re okay.”
“A little more enthusiasm, Son. School is important.”