The Coaching Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #4)(33)

“If I still lived with my parents and was going to college, I’d want to drive my car off a fucking cliff.”

Anabelle winks, watching as I lift another heavy box from the hallway, damn near toppling to the side.

“This is going to be fun. I can feel it.” She giggles.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. You’re so big and strong, and here you are, tipping all over the place.”

Big and strong?

Shit, that’s like…music to every guy’s ears—except when I look over to study her face, I see no hint of flirtation there.

She looks happy and comfortable sitting on the floor of this tiny room that’s not really fit to be a bedroom, surrounded by her unpacked boxes.

Anabelle emits a few grunts, twisting the wrench in her hand, face turning pink. “Ugh, can you give me a hand? This is so hard to push in.”

Hard to push in…did she seriously just say that? In that breathy tone?

Devin opened a floodgate to the gutter, and I can’t keep my mind out of it.

“Sure.”

“Great. Can you just hold that end?” She wiggles her fingers toward the end of the bed frame. “I’m almost done. Then if you could help me flip the mattress on, I can start putting on the sheets.”

Together, we finish her bed frame, arranging it in the center of the room. Add the box springs and mattress to the top. Anabelle disappears and returns with a white, padded cover. Fitted sheet.

Shaking the top, it billows into the air like a cloud, white, crisp, and fresh. It flutters onto the mattress, resting there gently, and my roommate fusses around, tucking here, tucking there, until the bed is neat as a pin.

White sheets.

White quilt.

White pillows.

Immediately, I wonder what her dark hair would look like fanned out on the stark, snowy bedding, her pale skin…

Stop it, Elliot.

Get a grip.

Fantasizing about your new roommate will lead to no good, and she’s already had shitty luck with men at this university; there’s no need for her to trouble herself with one more.

“I’ll be here! Oh! Wait.”

I poke my head back into her room.

“Are you hungry for anything? Maybe we could start thinking about dinner?”

Am I hungry for anything?

I wasn’t.

But maybe I am now.





I crash in my room a few hours later, flopping on the bed and grabbing my phone. Ten missed messages, all of them from my old roommate, Oz.

Swiping my thumb to open the messenger app, I shoot him a return text.



Oz: Hey dude, what’s up? We haven’t talked in ages.

Me: Hey. Not much going on.

Oz: Really? Because I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all week.

Me: What are you, my girlfriend?

Oz: No, but if I was, I’d feel neglected enough to not give you a blow job.

Me: Sorry man, I really have been busy.

Oz: Busy doing what? Since when do you do stuff?

Me: Real funny asshole. I was helping someone move into the spare room of my house.

Oz: Shit, that’s cool. You finally have a new roommate?

Me: Yeah, it’s nice not having to fork over the entire rent and shit.

Oz: Who’d you end up with? One of the guys from the team? They still hanging around you like flies on shit?

Me: Nah, just someone who really needed a place to stay. I lucked out not having to look.

Oz: What’s his name?

Me: Anabelle.

Oz: LOL that fucking sounds like a female’s name.

Me: That’s because she is a female.

Oz: I don’t get it. I thought you said your roommate was a guy.

Me: I never said that.

Oz: Hold up, you’re living with a GIRL? One with tits and everything?

Me: Yeah, she was kind of desperate to get out of her parents’ house.

Oz: Her PARENTS? Please tell me she isn’t a minor and is over the age of eighteen? DUDE. Elliot, what the fuck? Are you living with jailbait?

Me: You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you.

Oz: Oh really? Try me.



More than a few minutes tick by while I debate telling Oz Osborne my new roommate is his ex-wrestling coach’s daughter, but I hesitate, not sure how he’ll react to the news.



Oz: Dude, I’m waiting. You’re giving me blue balls.

Me: It’s complicated.

Oz: What the fuck does that mean?

Me: Had you heard that Coach Donnelly has a daughter?

Oz: Yeah. Daniels might have mentioned he saw her in Coach’s office a few weeks ago shooting the shit with him. Said she’s cute.

Me: She’s my new roommate.

Oz: Come again? I’m sorry, what?

Me: Anabelle Donnelly.

Oz: Yeah, I got that, but I thought you just said you’re now living with COACH FUCKING DONNELLY’S DAUGHTER, but that can’t be right, because only a fucking moron would do that.

Me: Why? It’s not like I’m dating her—she just needs a place to stay. And I’m not on the team so what difference does it make?

Oz: Because Coach warned everyone away from her. He will blow his shit if he finds out she’s living with a dude, trust me.

Oz: Was he there the day she moved in?

Me: No.