Playing for More (Love on the Court - Book #1)

25. Not My Boyfriend

ADDISON

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Not thinking about sex.

Should be easy enough. I have been doing that for twenty years. So you'd think I could stop thinking about sex for five minutes.

No, that was old Addie. New Addie is a sex addict. Apparently.

I let my head fall on the library desk. The thump isn't appreciated by all. I get a few people hushing me, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. It's not my fault I have to work in here.

Should I be surprised he's this good at it? Probably not. There is one thing I didn't expect though - multiple rounds.

I figured once he gets a taste, I'd be old news. He keeps coming back. Easy lay. That must be why. He'll get bored soon and then, it'll be back the way it is.

Which is absolutely why I'm starting at my online pharmacy file, my finger hovering over the renew button. It's not like I'm gonna let him... not wear one. What if he's got other girls he's bringing to orgasm?

Not my business. At all.

Not a relationship - just a deal.

But I click anyway.

As if I'm being spied on - which I'm not excluding - my screen dings. It's Jenna. Of course it's Jenna.

JENNA: He's huge, isn't he?

ADDISON: I'm not talking about this.

JENNA: Does he have a magic tongue?

ADDISON: JENNA!

JENNA: I bet he does.

ADDISON: STOP TALKING.

JENNA: Did he make you scream last night?

ADDISON: I have homework, I'm gonna block you.

I half expect another message from her but Jenna leaves me alone and I actually manage to get a few things done.

Including the rewrite Thompson asked me to do. He's going hate it unless Carter is the one who sends it to him, but that's a minor detail I'm willing to ignore. I've never been this behind on my schedule before.

I've never not worked or studied. This is unsettling.

No, what unsettles me is the fact that I'm enjoying myself. And I don't mind the sex alone. I mean - doing something else. Though, if I'm being honest, I may be distracting myself from more than work...

I open my inbox, ready to send this draft to Carter when my eyes land on my unread emails. Two of them. That I refuse to open. Why? Because they are more rejection letters from newspapers. I'm not getting an internship any time soon.

It's hard to make a splash when... I don't care. Look at me, diving into Carter's life but my own life? Cannot be bothered.

Should I break down? I don't have the hookups or talent to make it big, no matter what I want to write. But I don't want to suck up and lose time writing articles that don't matter to me.

I want to look where people might not think I would look. Find - and bust up fuckers like Carter's dad.

I can do that... as a journalist. I'll get that chance. Won't I?

I'll be happy, won't I? I'll like doing this, won't I?

My throat clamps up and I shake my head. Every time I think about the actual future, I get a knot in my stomach.