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The Score (Off-Campus #3)(20)

Author:Elle Kennedy

A week after that, we were a couple.

And now, three years later, we’re broken up, and I’ve just confessed to having sex with someone else. Where the hell had we gone wrong?

“Who?”

The strangled question startles me. “W-what?”

“Who was it?” Sean says flatly.

Discomfort tightens my chest. “It doesn’t matter who it was. I won’t be seeing him again. It was…” I take a breath. “It was a stupid mistake. But I thought you should know.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Sean?”

A ragged breath echoes through the line. “Thanks for telling me,” he mutters.

Then he hangs up.

It takes a while before I move the phone away from my ear. My hand shakes uncontrollably as I rake it through my hair.

God. That was…brutal. A part of me wonders why I even told him. It’s not like I cheated on him. I didn’t have to tell him. In fact, I could have spared him the pain he must be feeling right now if I’d simply kept my mouth shut. But I’ve always been honest with Sean, and some stupid, guilty part of me insisted he deserved to know.

An anguished groan flies out of my mouth. My heart hurts again. The guilt is even worse now, a tight, crushing knot in my stomach.

Rather than pick up my script, I grab my iPod instead and shove in my earbuds. Then I yank the blanket up to my neck and put Miley Cyrus’s “Wrecking Ball” on repeat because it pretty much sums up how I feel right now.

Wrecked.

*

Dean

“Awww, look at him, G, he’s so precious when he’s sleeping.”

“Like an angel.”

“A really slutty angel.”

“Wait—do angels even get laid? And if so, are heaven orgasms a million times better than earth orgasms? I bet yes.”

“Uh-doy. Where do you think rainbows come from? Whenever you see a rainbow, that means an angel just came.”

“Ah. Makes sense. Sort of like how whenever a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.”

“Exactly like that.”

I crank one eye open and direct it toward the doorway. “I can hear you, you know.”

My annoyed voice puts an end to the most bizarre conversation I’ve ever heard. “Oh good, you’re up,” Logan says.

“Of course I’m up,” I grumble, rubbing my eyes. “How am I supposed to sleep when you two fucktards are standing at the foot of my bed talking about angels blowing their loads?”

Garrett snickers. “Like I’m the first one to ever wonder about that.”

“Trust me, you are. When’d you guys get back?”

Logan props one massive shoulder against my doorframe. “About an hour ago. Gracie needed to be back early because she has a show to produce tonight.”

I nod. Logan’s girlfriend works as a producer at the campus radio station. Which reminds me… “You planning on calling in and professing your love again?” I ask mockingly.

He sighs. “You’re never gonna let me forget that, are you?”

“Nope.” Though I wish someone had recorded that radio segment so I could pull some quotes from it and torture him with them. After screwing up and nearly losing Grace last weekend, Logan had won her back by calling the advice show she produces and saying the sappiest shit imaginable. I worry about him sometimes.

I toss the covers aside and slide out of bed buck-ass naked. My roommates continue to lurk in the doorway.

I find a pair of clean boxers and tug them on. “I swear to God, if you tell me you’ve been watching me sleep for the last hour like a bunch of creepers, I’m calling the cops.”

“Coach called,” Garrett tells me. “He said he’s been trying your phone all morning but you weren’t picking up. He wants you at the arena in an hour.”

“Why?” I ask warily.

Garrett shrugs. “Fuck if I know. Maybe he found out you got wasted this weekend—I assume you got wasted, right?—and wants to ream you out.”

“How would he even know? It’s not like he’s got people tailing us.”

“Dude, Coach is like that spy master from Game of Thrones. His sources are endless.”

Shit. Hopefully I’m not in store for one of Coach Jensen’s long-winded lectures about keeping my nose clean. We’re not allowed to drink or dabble in drugs during the season, but that doesn’t stop any of us from getting plastered or smoking the occasional joint. Still, I’ve never failed a piss test or tarnished the team’s good name with my partying, so I’m not sure why Coach is constantly on my case about it.

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