The Chase (Briar U, #1)

by Elle Kennedy

perception and reality are vastly disparate. The truth is usually found somewhere in between

Except for me, that is. I play hockey, yes. I’m good at it, definitely. But “god” and “jock” and “superstar” are terms I’ve never been comfortable with. Deep down, I’m a huge nerd. A nerd masquerading as a god.

“Sorry. I’m not very chatty. Don’t take it personally, okay?” I steal my bottle back. “Okay, I won’t. But if you don’t feel like talking, at least entertain me in other ways.” She plants her hands on her hips. “I propose we make out.”

I’m not a fan of my own thoughts. They tend to be a jumble of insecurity, mixed with self-doubt, a splash of inner critic, and a sprinkling of misplaced over-confidence. It’s a fucked-up place, my mind.

“Whatever. We all know you wax your chest and your back, Kelvin. Hypocritical fuck.” I snort and rub soap over my chest. My body temperature is finally dropping. “I don’t wax my back!” Kelvin protests. “Yes you do. Nikki Orsen ratted you out, you back-hair motherfucker.”

I feel like too many girls fail to remember one vital truth: we deserve someone who gives us one hundred percent. Half-assed effort isn’t effort. Half- assed love isn’t love. If a man isn’t all in, then we need to be all out.