Read Online FOOTBALL ROMANCE: Tight (Bad Boy Alpha Male College Football Player and First Time Virgin) (Contemporary New Adult Athlete Sports Romance) by Bridget Lang - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bridget Lang
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that.” Jett mumbles. He leans forward and I catch a whiff of his cologne, the same kind he wore in college. For a moment, I’m back in the tutoring center explaining physics to Jett while he plays with his pencil and stares into space. He hasn’t even changed cologne. What a narcissist.
“I’m not trying to sound like a dick,” Jett continues, “I’m just confused.”
“You? Confused? What a surprise.” I know I’m being a grade A bitch, and maybe he doesn’t deserve it. He did just come to my aid back in the parking lot, something none of the other patrons standing around were willing to do. I gaze over at his tousled, dirty-blonde hair, straight nose, chiseled jawline. Still hot as hell, maybe even hotter. Besides, people can change. Maybe Jett deserves a chance to be absolved of past deeds and given a fresh start. I ponder this a second.
Nope, still hate him .
He ignores my comment. “I just don’t understand why you’re still with that guy. I know we didn’t know each other all that well in college, but I knew you well enough to know that you’re really smart, and you’re pretty talented. You could do a helluva lot better than that asscrack. What makes you stay with him?”
I take a sip of my water. I haven’t heard that question since I had friends, something that Aaron ensured ended completely at least a year and a half ago, back when he’d tried to convinced me I didn’t need anyone but him. I never agreed with him, I just got tired of the hassles and arguments.
“A lot of reasons,” I finally say. “At first it was because I hoped he’d change, and I still loved him. Now… well, I’m trying to leave now, but it’s a lot harder than people think.”
“How?” In Jett’s eyes, I see a genuine question. He isn’t being sarcastic or condescending, he really seems to want to know.
“Well, first, I need money. I’ve started salting away a little here and there without him noticing, but he controls our bank account and without money, there’s not much I can do. Right now I have a little over $600 in my sock drawer.” I take another sip of water, trying to figure out how to phrase the next part. “Plus, it’s not like he’s just going to let me go, just let me walk out. With someone like him, it’s not over just because I say it’s over. He’ll come after me, try to find me and probably keep trying to hurt me, even after I’m gone…” my voice trails off.
Jett just sits there silently watching me. I expect him to say something but he appears lost in thought. The silence kind of makes me nervous, so I continue, “I need enough money to completely disappear, and that’s hard to do since all of my paychecks are direct-deposited into our joint account.”
Again silence.
“Are you gonna say something?” I finally ask.
“I could give you some money.”
That was not what I expected him to say. At all.
“No,” I say flatly. “I don’t want your charity.”
A wicked smirk crosses his face. “It wouldn’t be charity,” he leans forward, his elbows resting on the formica tabletop. “I’d need you to do something for me, too.”
Oh, here we go. Of course .
“I am NOT going to sleep with you for money,” I snap, sitting up straight and glaring at him, as if drawing myself up to my full, miniscule height will intimidate him. “I do have some self-respect left, you know.”
He tilts his head back and laughs as though I’ve just said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “God, relax, would you? You’re always so uptight. It has nothing to do with sex.” He pauses, and then his gaze sweeps over me. “Unless you want it
“I’m not trying to sound like a dick,” Jett continues, “I’m just confused.”
“You? Confused? What a surprise.” I know I’m being a grade A bitch, and maybe he doesn’t deserve it. He did just come to my aid back in the parking lot, something none of the other patrons standing around were willing to do. I gaze over at his tousled, dirty-blonde hair, straight nose, chiseled jawline. Still hot as hell, maybe even hotter. Besides, people can change. Maybe Jett deserves a chance to be absolved of past deeds and given a fresh start. I ponder this a second.
Nope, still hate him .
He ignores my comment. “I just don’t understand why you’re still with that guy. I know we didn’t know each other all that well in college, but I knew you well enough to know that you’re really smart, and you’re pretty talented. You could do a helluva lot better than that asscrack. What makes you stay with him?”
I take a sip of my water. I haven’t heard that question since I had friends, something that Aaron ensured ended completely at least a year and a half ago, back when he’d tried to convinced me I didn’t need anyone but him. I never agreed with him, I just got tired of the hassles and arguments.
“A lot of reasons,” I finally say. “At first it was because I hoped he’d change, and I still loved him. Now… well, I’m trying to leave now, but it’s a lot harder than people think.”
“How?” In Jett’s eyes, I see a genuine question. He isn’t being sarcastic or condescending, he really seems to want to know.
“Well, first, I need money. I’ve started salting away a little here and there without him noticing, but he controls our bank account and without money, there’s not much I can do. Right now I have a little over $600 in my sock drawer.” I take another sip of water, trying to figure out how to phrase the next part. “Plus, it’s not like he’s just going to let me go, just let me walk out. With someone like him, it’s not over just because I say it’s over. He’ll come after me, try to find me and probably keep trying to hurt me, even after I’m gone…” my voice trails off.
Jett just sits there silently watching me. I expect him to say something but he appears lost in thought. The silence kind of makes me nervous, so I continue, “I need enough money to completely disappear, and that’s hard to do since all of my paychecks are direct-deposited into our joint account.”
Again silence.
“Are you gonna say something?” I finally ask.
“I could give you some money.”
That was not what I expected him to say. At all.
“No,” I say flatly. “I don’t want your charity.”
A wicked smirk crosses his face. “It wouldn’t be charity,” he leans forward, his elbows resting on the formica tabletop. “I’d need you to do something for me, too.”
Oh, here we go. Of course .
“I am NOT going to sleep with you for money,” I snap, sitting up straight and glaring at him, as if drawing myself up to my full, miniscule height will intimidate him. “I do have some self-respect left, you know.”
He tilts his head back and laughs as though I’ve just said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “God, relax, would you? You’re always so uptight. It has nothing to do with sex.” He pauses, and then his gaze sweeps over me. “Unless you want it
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