Scoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #3)

by Rebecca Jenshak

This year is going to be different. That was my wish for the year. I want to stop waiting for life to happen and put myself out there more. I figured asking the universe for a boyfriend was a little cliché.

Nodding, I can’t help but smile. She really has no idea how much I dig her.

“You could have said I was ugly, and you’d rather ride a cactus than me, and I’d still have been hanging on your every word. It’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk. Until now. You have a nice voice.”

Well, shit. Fuck me very much, I think she just blew me off.

“Hey, asshole. That’s my girlfriend you’re making a pass at, and trust me, you’d be so lucky.”

As he says the last word, I turn my attention back to the door. This time, the girl I’m waiting for steps through it. “You’re right. Fucking wow.”

“Wow.” Felix’s voice freezes my movements from head to toe. He steps through the crowd, eyes locked on me. “Dahlia, you look…wow.” He clears his throat. “I’ve forgotten all other adjectives.”

His smile widens. “Say yes, hot stuff.”

“Eddie is a little bigger than you,” she says. “Way to ruin the moment,” I mutter under my breath. That killed any movement south. “I mean taller. What are you, six-two?” “And a half.” That half inch seems super important right now.

“I’m not the guy for you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish that I were.”

He doesn’t look away, but one hand comes up to where both of mine rest against his chest and he plucks the ticket from my fingers. “I think that’s mine.”

Shy, beautiful Dahlia wearing my name and number across her back, and everyone knowing she’s mine—hell fucking yeah. I could get used to that.

“You look gorgeous,” I reassure her. “Just, you know, even more gorgeous when people know you’re mine.”

“To be clear,” he says as he brings his mouth closer. “This isn’t part of the Felix Walter’s experience.” “No?” “Uh-uh. This is the Dahlia Brady effect. Totally different thing. You drive me completely fucking crazy.”

“You said I couldn’t come to your tournament, but you said nothing about watching you practice.” His grin is wolfish, and my stomach does a little flip.

Spoiler alert, I’m always fucking pleased to see her.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you have me then.” “Why’s that?” “Because I’m always looking out for you. Whatever you need, hot stuff.”

She wasn’t just the best fake girlfriend, she was the best girl I’ve hung out with, period.

I know Steven pretty well from hanging out with Jordan. He’s all right, I guess. I might have even liked him once, before he put his hands on Dahlia. Now he’s just some guy in my fucking way.

And fuck me, I finally realize the problem. I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. Not if that means we dance around each other and barely talk. If this is what it means to be friends, then I don’t want to be her friend. I never wanted to be her friend.

Steven taught her how to play darts, and I’m now considering burning down the boards in every bar across town.

“I want you to be my girlfriend. For real this time.” He sits up. “You’re right. Nothing about this feels casual. It never did. I want to be the guy taking you home, not the asshole sitting across the bar watching you with some other guy.”

“We’re good together. I like you. I’m pretty sure you still like me. I want to go back to hanging out like before. I want to be the guy that takes you to the party and the one that takes you home. I liked being your boyfriend. It didn’t feel fake.”

I want to be the guy who watches her kick everyone’s ass at flip cup, the guy who makes her ramble and blush, and I want to look up from the field at every game to see her cheering me on (preferably in my jersey). I want her.

“Then stop interrupting me, babe. I’m just getting started.”

She came into my life like a snowstorm in the desert. Quiet and beautiful and completely unexpected.

“Then they’re both yours. Two rings for the number of lifetimes it’s going to take to show you how much I love you.”