Scoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #3)

by Rebecca Jenshak

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

“I don’t know,” I say, finally. “Say yes, Dahlia.” My body tingles. “No fair using my name. You know what it does to me.” His smile widens. “Say yes, hot stuff.” My brows lift at the endearment. “You are. That’s what I’m going to call you so you don’t forget it.” “I am so not.”

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

“So gorgeous,” I rasp. “No one has ever looked better wearing my jersey.” Surprise shows on her face, but the expression is followed quickly by disbelief. “Or in my bed.”

With that, he hooks the bag over one shoulder and then scoops me up, carrying both me and the clubs across the range. “Oh my gosh, put me down. People are staring,” I whisper-hiss. “No can do, hot stuff.” He tips his head toward Harper and a few of my other teammates who lingered after practice. They watch with surprise and amusement. He raises his voice to speak to them. “Everything is fine. Don’t worry. She just got a little weak in the knees at the sight of me. Isn’t that sweet?”

She’s smiling, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Did you just pee on me?” I bark a laugh into the dark night. “Pee on you? Is that a kink of yours? Because it’s not something I’m into myself, but I might be willing to try it once.” She punches my arm. “You know what I mean. Those guys barely looked at me and you glared at them and stepped in front of me like you were marking your territory.” “Oh, that’s what you meant. Then, yeah, I was absolutely peeing on you.” Still laughing, I take her hand and we walk into the dorm.

“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.”

The corners of his mouth lift and he hits me with one of those wide smiles that makes my stomach do several somersaults. “What?” I ask when he just keeps staring at me. “Be my girlfriend, hot stuff.” “What?” My hands still. “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.”