Looking to Score(47)



“Streaking incident?” Oakley asked the first moment we had alone. I knew this was coming. I could only escape my past for so long. I turned to face Oakley with a sheepish grin, though there was a heavy sense of remorse tugging at my stomach.

“I got very drunk one night and went streaking on our campus president’s lawn,” I said as fast as I could get the words out.

His eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word. I took his silence as encouragement to continue. “It was sloppy. I fell down. And when he went outside, I puked on his slippers.”

“That’s...bad,” Oakley replied with a sympathetic wince.

“What’s worse was that it was all caught on video. I was about forty pounds heavier. The fat shaming was really intense,” I admitted. The act of what I’d done was enough to scare me. My whole career was built around developing reputations, and that single act ruined mine. But the comments. The snickers. The hashtags. It was a lot.

“Is that why you’re...picky about food.”

“It’s why I’m picky about my entire life. It’s why I moved here. It’s why I stopped partying and started dieting and took a fuck ton of hours to graduate early.”

Oakley seemed to chew on my words for a bit. He stared at me intently, his eyes penetrating my soul. His prolonged silence let my insecurities run wild. He was probably thinking that he was an idiot to trust his image and career with someone who fucked up her own so badly. Oh God, he probably didn’t want to be with me anymore either, because how could he risk having someone find out about my past and have that reflect poorly on him? Not that it mattered, we couldn’t be together anyway, but maybe this was what was going to actually convince Oakley of that.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

This was it, this was where he was going to tell me that he’s sorry, but he can no longer work with me. Running all the way to Texas didn’t erase my past; I was never going to be able to leave it behind.

“I understand,” I said solemnly. “I’ll work with Dr. Haynes to get you a new publicist as soon as possible.”

“What?” Oakley asked, bewildered. “I don’t want a new publicist. I’m sorry that I was such an ass.”

“Huh?” I not-so-elegantly mumbled. Now it was my turn to be confused.

“You worked so hard, completely turning your life around. And then you got stuck with me. I almost got you fired from your internship, and then I have been dragging you to bars and after-parties,” he said genuinely. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “And I’m done partying.”

I blanched. “You’re done?”

“Done. If I had known how uncomfortable they made you, I would have never suggested it to you. It all makes sense now.” He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug, and I let him. It felt good to be comforted in his arms. It was a relief to stare the thing that had been haunting me for the last few months and feel...grace.

“Is it too soon to ask to see the video?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Too soon, Problem.”

I pulled out of Oakley’s arms and looked up at him. I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do next. Was this the part where we had the awkward conversation about last night? “Listen, Coach wants us watching tape this afternoon, but I’d like to see you again this week.”

I swallowed. “I’d like to see you too.”

Oakley beamed as if he’d never been happier. “A real date?”

“A real date,” I conceded. There was no going back now. Last night, Oakley stole my body. Today, he stole my heart.





21





Oakley and I walked back in the direction of the university together, hand-in-hand until we came to the point where we had to go different ways. He pulled me into a quick hug and planted a soft kiss on the top of my head. I inhaled the clean scent of his soap mixed with his spicy cologne; it was exhilarating. Oakley was the one to release his arms first so that he could tilt my face up to his. He kissed me greedily, and I fully lost myself in it. When he ran his tongue over my bottom lip, I parted my mouth, allowing him to completely take over.

I brought my hand to his chest and gently pushed while also taking a step back to put a little bit of distance between us. He groaned his disapproval at the sudden absence of my mouth on his. If I didn’t stop him, we were going to end up getting down and dirty right here in the middle of the sidewalk. As much as I didn’t want it to end, Oakley had to get to the stadium, and I was still his kickass publicist after all.

“Go watch footage and strategize or whatever you do when you watch tapes,” I teased.

“I’ll text you later, and we can talk about where we should go on that date.”

He planted one last quick kiss on my lips and then turned to head toward practice. I watched him walk away for just a moment, taking the time to appreciate how good his ass looked in his jeans. Plus, staring at Oakley’s butt gave my legs time to recover from being turned to total mush.

I was on cloud fucking nine. I had the best orgasm of my life last night, I had come clean and told Oakley everything, and he still wanted to date me and let me be his publicist. Which meant I was going to graduate early with killer recommendations and a hot boyfriend. I practically floated the rest of the way home, thinking about how awesome I was and how great my life was going.

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