Looking to Score(27)

I nodded my head and stammered, willing my coochie to calm the fuck down. “Yeah, all good. How many parties are you going to make me follow you to tonight?” I asked, already dreading the answer. I was already hot and sweaty from the game, which by the way took three hours and thirteen minutes. Fifteen minute quarters, my ass. My makeup had melted into a swirling cakey mess, and I could smell myself. All I wanted to do was take a shower and change into pajamas.

He was already in boxers and was shrugging on his pants while staring at me, his head cocked to the side. “I was thinking we’d start off bar hopping at a couple of local hot spots,” he began, crouching lower to look me in the eye from where I was sitting. I internally cringed. “Then, we could hit up a couple frat parties. They’re all on the same block, so it’s easy to get to.”

I could already feel the blisters on my feet. I hadn’t worn comfortable shoes today. “Sounds great,” I forced out. I didn’t want Oakley to go off partying, but we made a deal. I wouldn’t cramp his style if he let me do my job. I was going to do my best to not annoy him.

“And then,” Oakley continued, reaching out to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind my ear. “I can find some hot piece to bring home. Would you mind sleeping in the lobby? I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.”

Nope. I drew the line there. I opened my mouth to protest, but Oakley burst out laughing, interrupting me. “I’m kidding, Solver. Let’s go back to the hotel and grab some take-out. I just want to eat and sleep. I’m fucking sore.”

I let out a sigh of relief just as Dale exited the showers buck naked.

Oh. Em. Gee. I looked away quickly. Oakley threw Dale a towel. “Come on, man, Amanda’s here. Cover up.” Funny how Oakley suddenly cared about nudity.

“Did I just hear you say that you’re not coming out tonight? After your big victory, you’re not even going to celebrate? I know that’s not what I just heard,” Dale said as he wrapped the towel around himself loosely.

Damn, I was so close to being able to go back to the hotel and lie down. I hated Dale. I was busy cursing him for ever being born when Oakley replied, “Yeah man, I’m just going to go back to the hotel with a super hot girl. You’re right, I’m totally not celebrating at all.”

My first takeaway was that we were still going back to the hotel and I could take off these godforsaken shoes. That was followed very closely by the fact that Oakley said I was super hot. Did he really think that? Or was he just saying that to get Dale off his back? Fortunately, I had the entire walk back to the hotel to obsess about it.





13





Oakley ate like he was a man on death row enjoying his last meal. He devoured. He didn’t care that he had spaghetti sauce all over his face and dripping down his chin. He didn’t care that he chewed with his mouth open. He definitely didn’t care that I was staring wide-eyed and terrified at his sloppy mouth opening and closing. It was nice to know his hotness wasn’t limitless. He did have his faults; aside from being a huge partier, he was the world’s messiest eater.

“You better eat up,” he commanded while nodding at my salad plate. Now that the game was over, our agreement was off. He burned a lot of calories at the game and needed to refuel. It would be physically impossible for me to keep up.

“Just because I don’t devour my meals like a rabid animal doesn’t mean I won’t eat…”

He took another messy bite with a snort. I nearly gagged. We were both sitting in our pajamas at the small two-person table in our hotel room. I was comfortable, and my face was makeup free. I’d showered as we waited for our food to arrive and was happy to wash the sweaty Oklahoma humidity out of my hair. I probably should have cared that I looked like a drowned rat right now, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was too freaking tired.

“My sister used to say that,” Oakley laughed. He then wiped his mouth with his napkin. Oakley had a distant look on his face. I realized just then that this was the first I’d heard of him ever speaking of his family. I wanted more information but didn’t want to push him too far.

“Oh really?” I asked gingerly. I didn’t want to have a repeat of what happened when I asked before. I definitely didn’t want him to think I was trying to push for information and shut down. But I also wanted him to know that he could trust me and talk to me about his family. It got past the point of a normal pause in conversation, but Oakley still hadn’t said anything. So I sat there silently, taking a little nibble of my salad. I wanted to let Oakley decide if he wanted to talk or change the subject.

He got a faraway look in his eye as if he was remembering something pleasant and painful at the same time. After an almost uncomfortable amount of time, he said quietly, “Yeah, she was always teasing me about how fast I ate and would say that I couldn’t even be tasting it if I devoured it like a starving animal.”

I decided to push it, just a little bit, and asked, “She was always teasing you?”

Oakley looked down for just a second but then looked directly at me. “I don’t really talk about her much. She was an amazing big sister, and everything feels so empty without her. She died almost two years ago.” He didn’t break eye contact with me as he continued, “It happened on campus. She went up to the roof of the math building with a couple of her sorority sisters to see the moon. It was full that night, and they wanted to get pictures with it for Instagram. Daisy started walking on the ledge. She used to be a star gymnast and was trying to do some of her old tricks and she fell. There was nothing anybody could do, and they said she didn’t feel anything.”