The Chase (Briar U, #1)

by Elle Kennedy

“It’s just really dense, and…” He trails off awkwardly. It takes a second for the implication to sink in. It’s not that he c...

It’s that he doesn’t believe I’ve read these books. Indignation rises in my chest and sticks to my throat, forming a hot lump. Well, why would he...

The dumb sorority girl couldn’t possibly comprehend such lengthy, dense material! Hell, he probab...

A growl rips out of my mouth. “I know how to fucking read.” He startles. ...

“And just because I don’t have dragons and fairies and elves tattooed all over my body, doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to read fanta...

“—however dense they may be,” I finish with a scowl. “But it’s good to know your thoughts on the matter.” With a tight smile, I drop the book on the table. Thud. “Goodnight...

“And you? Get off your ivory horse, dude⁠—” “Ivory tower,” I say helpfully. “Whatever. We all know you wax your chest and your back, Kelvin. Hypocritical fuck.”

Nikki is a right-winger on the Briar women’s team. She’s a great player and an awesome girl, but she also happens to be a serious blabbermouth. You can’t tell her anything you don’t want anyone else knowing.

As Nate and a couple other seniors hoot loudly, Kelvin’s face turns beet red. “I’m gonna kill her.”

“Oh relax, princess,” Hunter drawls. “Every dude you see on Instagram waxes ...

“Yeah, what’s the big deal?” Hollis says. “There’s no shame in manscaping.” “This is a safe place,” Nate agrees solemnly.

I wish more men would manscape lol

“Exactly. Safe place. We all manscape here—or at least we all fucking should if we consider ourselves fucking gentlemen,” Hollis chides.

“She told you all this?” Our team captain is doubled over, and I can’t tell if it’s tears or water streaming down his face.

“Said she wouldn’t even consider boning down if a guy had body hair. That includes chest, arms, legs, so…” Hollis shrugs.

“You did your arms and legs too?” Nate squawks. Hunt...

That wasn’t my intention, though. Those books are legitimately tough to read. Hell, I barely got through them myself, and I’ve been reading fantasy religiously for years.

If she’d given me a chance to respond, I could’ve told her that. And I would’ve apologized for insinuating I didn’t believe her.

I’m not interested in drama. Never have been, never will be. So why can’t I get her hurt expression out of my mind?

He’s also the only Black player on the team, which he’s damn proud of. He’s entering the draft this year and eager to make his mark in a pro league that’s predominantly white.

You go, Matty!!

“How do you know he’s rich?” Hunter asks in amusement. “His first name is also a last name. That usually means his parents called him that to honor two filthy-rich grandparents.”

Coach nods. “Pain in the ass, those Roselawn guys.” “I literally just said I went to Roselawn,” Hunter protests. “I repeat—pain in the ass, those Roselawn guys.” Hunter sighs.

It’s like this old ’90s show I binge-watched last year, where the main character time-jumps into random people’s bodies in order to change history. Dude spends the first five minutes of every episode trying to figure out where the hell he is and whose body he jumped into.

shout out to Quantum Leap

Her response is a cross between a groan and a laugh. “Omigod, you’re so stubborn. Have you always been this stubborn?”

“Summer. Honey. He didn’t accuse you of being illiterate.” Brenna’s tone is one you’d use on a preschooler you’re teaching to paint with watercolors. Barely checked patience.

“He implied I was too stupid to read Shifting Winds.” “Everybody’s too stupid for Shifting Winds!” she growls.

I tried to read the first book one time, and the dickwad author spent nine pages describing a tree. Nine pages! Those books are the worst. The absolute worst.”

Yikes. I would've DNF'd that.

None of them follow her gaze. “Watch your mouth,” one snaps. “Watch yours,” she snaps back.

“Don’t make me come up there,” Brenna warns, hands planted firmly on her hips. “Don’t tempt me. I don’t fight chicks, but I might make an exception for you.”

“I don’t hit men, either,” she says sweetly. “But luckily I don’t see any men around here. Do you?” “You bitch⁠—” I yank on Brenna’s arm and force her to sit back down.

“They’re a bunch of jerks,” she grumbles. “And that ref was a dick! Anderson was totally tripped. They should’ve called a penalty.”

“Move on, huh? You mean, what you should be doing right now instead of obsessing over one trivial comment?”

I clench my teeth. “Sorry if it bothers me that one of the guys I live with thinks I’m nothing but a fluffy sorority girl.”

“You know who else was viewed as a fluffy sorority girl?” she challenges. “Elle Woods. And you know what she did? She went to law school and showed everyone how smart she was, and then she became a lawyer and everybody loved her, and her slim...

She stops abruptly, then curses up a blue streak as Harvard ties up the game. “How do you like them apples!” her new archrival yells. “How would you like an apple shoved up your ass!” she retorts,

“Ugh. Connelly. Why does he have to be lightning on skates?” “That’s a bad thing?” “It is when he’s on the other team.”

“He’s an evil demon goon.” “Doesn’t make him any less of a fun guy.” “True,” she says grudgingly.

“I just don’t like the idea of my friends fraternizing with the enemy.” She raises her index and middle finger, then points them back and forth between her eyes and mine. “I’m watching you, Greenwich Barbie.”

Smiling broadly, I lean in and smack a kiss on her cheek. “I love you. You’re my soulmate.” “You’re such a dork.” Rolling her eyes, sh...

Brenna curses impatiently. “Come on, boys!” she shouts. “Get it together!”

me if the Party Animals are off their game

It’s hard to believe someone so big could be so graceful.

His dirty-blond hair is longer than it was in high school, almost to his chin now. But his gray eyes are just as devilish. They always had this gleam to them, like he was plotting something naughty. That’s one of the reasons I never dated him, because he was (and I suspect still is) the definition of manchild.

The superstar who won the game for Harvard. Oh boy. I really am fraternizing with the enemy. This is the guy Brenna hates. He also happens to be incredibly attractive.

I find myself speechless as I stare into eyes the darkest shade of green I’ve ever seen. And I swear his cheekbones are prettier than mine. He doesn’t look feminine, though. He’s chiseled as fuck, like a young Clint Eastwood. Which I guess would make him Scott Eastwood? Oh, who cares. All I can say is…yum.

“This is blasphemy,” Brenna hisses as we approach the front door of a detached house with a white clapboard exterior. She twists around, longingly glancing at the Uber that’s speeding away from the curb.

I roll my eyes. “C’mon, let’s go inside.” Her feet stay glued to the porch. “Don’t do this to me, Summer.” “Do what?” “Bring me into the den of Satan.”

“Oh my God. And people say I’m a drama queen.” I tug her toward the door. “We’re goi...

“I don’t like this. Look at these goons with their smug faces,” she growls, jabbing her finger in the air. At that exact moment, a tall guy with scrawny arms poking out of a Celtics jersey backs directly into her pointed finger.

“Hey! What the—” His protest dies when he spins around and sees Brenna. “Forget I said that,” he begs. “Please, please keep poking me. Poke me all night long.” “No. Go away,” she orders.

He winks at her. “Come find me after you’ve had a couple drinks.” My jaw drops. “Ew. Now you definitely need to go away.”

preach, Summer

I’ve got bad news for them. If they’re this afraid their men will stray? It’ll probably happen. That lack of trust doesn’t bode well for their relationships.

Preach