Hating the Player (Campus Wallflowers #2)

by Rebecca Jenshak

even if I already know it’s how he feels.

Being around Violet brings out some primal, barbaric side of me. I want her, but since I can’t have her, I end up acting like a giant asshole.

I knew Violet was going to be here. She’s most of the reason I canceled my date and tagged along with Jenkins and Taylor. I thought maybe it would be an opportunity for us to hang out and bury the hatchet, so to speak.

Note: there’s also no graceful way to get out of a hammock.

She lifts her chin defiantly. Her first words make me suck in a breath. “I lost my virginity to a jerk who pretended to be super into me.” I swallow the acid burning my throat. “A week later I found him in bed with my roommate.” Every word is a physical blow. “And finally, the same jerk crashed my weekend camping trip with friends while continuing to hook up with every girl that crosses his path.”

I love the dress I made, but I’m not one hundred percent on it yet. Oh, and I’ve been studying for a history test on Thursday. I also decided this was the week I needed to finally reorganize my closet.

“It took a couple of minutes for it to register, or I would have immediately agreed.” He holds the door open for me, and something in his playful smile and dark brown eyes holds me captive as he says, “I always hear you, Violet.”

“Why wasn’t it a fair bet?” she asks once we’re sitting. “I’m ambidextrous.” “You were hustling me!”

Violet lifts her can and fakes a smile. “I think I am ready for another drink.” Without another word, she disappears into the crowd. The smallest hint of a smirk pulls at the corner of Bailey’s mouth.

“Good.” He disappears from sight but keeps talking. “Because I’m not screwing this up again.”

“I can’t answer that. It’s like choosing between my favorite copy of Persuasion.” “The one with the pink cover.” I look at him, unblinking. That is my favorite one, but how does he know that?

It’s an old version of Persuasion with a cover I’ve never seen before.

“I still don’t understand why she would come. She has assistants that have assistants.” Jane is the only one of us that isn’t giddy over the news. I guess when you grow up in LA, celebrity sightings are just part of a typical day.

Jane takes her magazine to the stairs. “I think I’m going to skip my afternoon classes today,” she says. “I have a headache that won’t quit.”

“She dated the Prince of Luxembourg. She is not just like us.”

“Ivy?!” Penelope’s face breaks out in a smile that makes her look younger and more like a normal girl our age, instead of a superstar, as she looks at Jane. “Oh my gosh. I haven’t seen you since⁠—” “It’s Jane,” my friend says. “Wait. You two know each other?” I ask, studying Jane carefully. Jane fidgets with the lid of her coffee. “I think we met once at a party back in LA.” Penelope looks between us, brow furrowed and mouth slightly open.