Read Online Third and Long: A Sports Romance by Caitlyn Maxwell - Free Book Online

my father is always trying to make: people expect certain things of me. Once again everyone needs me to behave a certain way. I can’t take it anymore.
    I can’t believe the Dirty wrote that shit about Tamber. I feel terrible. If I ever find the guy who wrote that article, I’m going to knock him out. Not to mention the snake-in-the-grass paparazzi that took those pictures. They were waiting outside the Marquise Steakhouse, waiting for the valet to bring my BMW around. The sneaky fucks must have been hiding in the bushes.
    Someone tipped them off. It might have been the hostess. It might have been the valet. Either way I’m not going back there. I texted Tamber, and then I called her. She didn’t answer either. I’m sure that she’s seen the story by now.
    I think about going to her apartment, but the last thing I want to do is lead the paparazzi right back to her door. Then it hits me. I know exactly where she is.
    I’m halfway out of locker room when Cam stops me. By now all the other guys on the team have filtered in and our regular practice is about to start.
    “Yo, man we ain’t done yet. Where you going?” he asks.
    “Did you see that shit online?”
    “The Dirty ? They’re trash. Who cares?” he asks.
    Cameron “Cam” Phelps is a good guy. Modest upbringing. Religious family. He expects the best in everyone. That’s why Gwen ate him alive. He thinks people brush off gossip. There are certain people in the world who think guys like me, rich guys I mean, see horrible things written about us everyday without a care in the world. They think we can ignore it, like we have some emotional armor greater than them. Here’s the secret: that’s why everyone thinks we’re assholes. We have to be. Some of that shit really stings.
    “Tamber cares. She’s a sweet girl.”
    Sweet like sugar.
    Beautiful like a rainbow.
    “Shit sorry man,” Cam says.
    He sees the anxious look in my eyes, and he knows that I have to run. He promises to cover for me if Coach starts asking questions. The outside door bursts open, and I hit the flat of the field in a dead sprint. My head is down and I’m going full bore, hoping that Tamber is exactly where I think she is. She runs when she gets mad. She has to be there.
    In the distance, there’s a bunch of people running practice laps on the track. I’m looking for my girl. The girl with the mocha-colored hair and the great ass.
    Finally, I spot her, right in the middle of the track, wearing the same tight, red shorts she wore a week ago. Her incredible ass shakes with every step while her gorgeous mocha hair, pulled back in a pony tail bounces around on her shoulders. No surprise I can’t get her out of my head.
    There’s a determination in her step. Headphones in, head straight forward, she doesn’t want anyone to fuck with her. Not that I’m going to listen to her nonverbal signals.
    My pace picks up once I hit the soft clay of the track. It feels good beneath my feet compared to the uneven turf of the practice field. Mesmerized by her backside, I don’t even realize how quickly I’m gaining on her. Granted I have about two feet on her short body.
    As I catch up to her, I realize that I’m not even sure what I’m doing out there. I promised her last night that she wouldn’t end up on a gossip blog, so obviously I have to do something about that. Last night she only wanted to be my friend, and now she’ll probably never want to see me again.
    But that kiss. The taste of her tongue. I have to know if there is more between us. It may only be one kiss. In which case Katernia Prescott may be my future. Yet if there’s more to it than one kiss—
    “What the fuck!” Tamber screams as I touch her on the shoulder. She spins and pulls up a bottle of pepper spray.
    “Oh fuck not in my eyes!” I scream like a little bitch jumping to the next lane of the track.
    “Oh holy shit Logan. What are you doing?” she asks, grabbing my arm.
    We both stop running. I grab my knees