Tutoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #1)(18)



From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Yes, JOHNSON’S Law

Drinking and playing dress up. Are you on a bus or something?





Drinking? Interesting. I wouldn’t have thought that’s how she spends a Friday night. And not because she’s shy. Tons of quieter people come to parties and stand off to the side, but I’ve never seen Daisy at a party. And I’ve been to plenty of them thrown by all sorts of groups of people.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Dress up?

I’m going to need an explanation. What does that mean, dress up? Halloween is over. Or is this like cosplay? I’m intrigued. Tell me more.

We’re at the hotel in Utah. Back on the bus in the morning.





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Dress up?

My roommate is a fashion design major. She makes a lot of dresses and skirts inspired by the Regency and Victorian eras. I suppose that could be considered cosplay, but we just do it for fun after a night out.





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Dress up?

What in the hell are dresses inspired from the Regency and Victorian eras? Like big ass dresses with corsets and shit?





Her next email says nothing, but she attaches a picture of herself in a red dress with sleeves that hang off her shoulders. It dips low in the front, pushing up her small tits.

I never noticed how little she is, but the fabric wraps tight around her midsection and then flares out around her hips. The skirt has a large slit that comes up high on her thigh, and attached to her feet are these strappy gold shoes that tangle around her legs. She looks… well, she looks fucking hot.

She’s not smiling, but her lips are coated a shiny pink, and her dark blonde hair falls around her shoulders. She’s a tiara away from looking like a sexy, vintage princess. It annoys me, but I can’t stop staring.

Heat rushes to my dick. Man, away games are the worst. Short of picking up a random at the hotel, there’s no one to hook up with after games. I could use a release right now.

I can’t say any of the things I’m thinking, but I’m hella fascinated to know more now. This is not the Daisy I’ve been sitting next to for the past few weeks. Sure, she always looks cute, but this… fuuuuck.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Dress up?

Your roommate made that? There’s more?





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: My friends are talented

Yep. My cousin, Violet. Do you like them?





She’s attached more pictures. Her friends, I presume. I scroll back up to the one of just her. Damn. Look, a sexy little dress alone doesn’t make a chick hot. Her friends are wearing similar things, and they all look great. Totally fuckable by just about any guy I know standards.

But that dress on Daisy. It’s just so… unexpected.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: My friends are talented

Yeah, that’s pretty cool. Now that you’re all dressed up, what’s the plan? Hitting after hours?





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: My friends are talented

No, we’re in for the night. This could go on for hours. Violet just opened another bottle of wine.

P.S. Diet Coke and Vodka do NOT mix well.





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Drunk Daisy?

Are you drunk, sweet Daisy? I can’t tell.





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Drunk Daisy?

I am not sweet, but I am drunk. I think. My insides are warm and tingly. Do you get your own rooms at the hotel, or are you bunked up with a bunch of other guys?





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Drunk Daisy?

Warm and tingly, huh? Yeah, I’d say you’re drunk, sweet Daisy.

Nah, just one roommate on away games most of the time. He’s sleeping.





I know she’s probably asking specifically about Liam. Actually, it’s probably why she emailed me at all. The thought puts a bitter taste in my mouth, and I glance over at my buddy sleeping.

Something like guilt pricks the back of my neck. I’m not doing anything wrong. So we’re exchanging a few emails? It’s a far cry from anything I should feel bad about. I’m not stepping on his girl. He’s had plenty of time to make a move. Though that might be because of what I said when he mentioned asking her out.

I scroll up to take one more look at her in the red dress and then turn my phone on silent for the night.





We get back to Valley Saturday night with another win in the books.

“Are you coming out?” I ask Liam as we step out of the bus. A few of the guys are going to the bar, and others are heading to one of our senior’s, Brad McCallum’s, apartment.

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