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One Kiss to Win: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

Page 2

by Romi Hart


  Troy looked clearly disappointed, but said, “Okay. Hopefully, next time right?”

  How pathetic! Give up, dude! She isn’t into you.

  The new girl smiled at him and kept walking. Troy took off to the right towards the Bancroft Library. He looked back at her dejected. I would’ve felt sorry for the dude but found not an ounce of pity for him at all.

  I slyly caught up to the new girl. “Hi.” I was being nonchalant like I’d barely seen her.

  She looked over at me. “Hi.” She crossed her arms in front of her and kept walking.

  I thought she must be shy. That had to be why she was trying to close herself off to me. “I’m Jett. We have Competitive Strategy together.” I hooked a thumb back in the direction of Haas. I wasn’t sure why I did that. She obviously knew where our class was. The girl did something to me, somehow, that others hadn’t. I felt a little out of my element with her. It was oddly intriguing though.

  “I’m Laney. Yeah, I think I saw you in there.” She admitted she saw me. That had to be a good sign.

  I notice a slight southern twang to her sweet voice. “Where are you from?”

  The slightest smile curved her pink lips. “Gainesville, Florida. I transferred from the University of Florida.”

  She was talking pretty freely with me which had my heart pumping harder. “The Gators. That’s awesome. What did you think of Competitive Strategy?”

  She lit up like a Christmas tree as her body language changed and she dropped her crossed arms. “Professor Williamson is amazing. Are you familiar with information impactedness?”

  She was smart as well as beautiful. “Yes, I am. He addresses uncertainty and opportunism with his concept.”

  Her smile broadened, I could see her white, perfectly straight teeth. “I’ve thought a lot about information asymmetry in general. If you think about it, lack of information can affect market transactions but also everyday decisions and behavior in regards to health, entertainment, and education. You know all kinds of choices can be impacted.”

  I moved along with her to a picnic table. “I do that a lot too. I take the stuff I learn in my business classes and think about it in other contexts.”

  We took seats on opposite sides of the small table, and she opened a brown paper bag she had fished out of her backpack, taking out a sandwich. “Like what other contexts?”

  She was allowing me to have lunch with her after she had flat out denied Brick House. I was in, and he was out, anyone could see that. “Well, I want to play in the NFL, right? Which will require a contract, a transaction between the NFL team and me, but in this transaction, there might be an information imbalance on both sides. I might not know something about the team. They might not know something about me.”

  “But there are ways to circumvent the imbalance,” she interjected, smartly.

  “Exactly.” I was impressed with her sharp mind. The girl seemed to have it all; brains and beauty.

  She split her sandwich in half, handing half to me. “All I have is peanut butter and jelly.”

  I took the sandwich from her. Our fingertips touched a tiny bit, and sparks shot through mine. “My favorite. Thank you.” I moved off the seat, hopping up from the table. “I’m going to go grab a water. You want one?”

  She looked at me with that beautiful smile. “Yes, please.”

  I jogged to a nearby vending machine and got out two water bottles. I thought it was going pretty well so far with Laney. She was super easy to talk to. After jogging back to the picnic table, I sat down opposite her once again and handed her a water. “Thank you. You were saying about information imbalance?” she asked opening up the bottle and taking a sip.

  Wow. She actually wanted to keep talking. This girl was so cool. “So to correct the information balance, you can use a third party to mediate. In my case, I would use --”

  “An agent,” she answered quickly.

  “Right.” I took a bite of the sandwich, pleasantly surprised by how sharp she was. “I love business just as much as I love football. I mean, I need to have something to fall back on when my football career is over.”

  “You’re the most intellectual jock I’ve ever met. But, honestly, I’ve never been one to talk to jocks that much.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

  I raised my water bottle up. “I feel honored, Laney. This calls for a toast.” She laughed lightly as she touched her water bottle to mine. I noticed she was much more relaxed than when we first started talking. I even got her to laugh at my dumb antics. So I went for it. “Are you going to the game on Saturday? We’re playing against UCLA.”

  A frown made creases between her perfect brows. “Sports aren’t really my thing.”

  I wasn’t really shocked, she had said she didn’t talk to jocks much. But I feigned it, “What? Coming from such a huge football school like Florida, I pegged you for a gigantic football fanatic.”

  She smiled after taking a drink. “I know right? The Florida Gators. UF loves their football.”

  I was puzzled. “But not you?”

  Her eyes cast down as she looked at what was left of her half of the sandwich. “Not really. I haven’t been to a single football game in my life.”

  I had to show her what she’d been missing. It was criminal that she went to not one but two colleges with badass teams and was missing out on the total experience. “Okay. I get it, you don’t like sports, but a Cal game is so much more than just a football game. It’s about the entire college experience. You didn’t come all the way out here to not experience Berkeley in its entirety did you?” I raised my arms up to gesture all around us. “Look around. There is so much here for you to experience.”

  She laughed at me. I loved hearing her laugh. “You might have a point.” She rested her head on the palm of her hand, looking at me amused.

  I smiled at her. It was then I realized I hadn’t stopped smiling since we had started talking. My cheeks were sore. I couldn’t help it. She was adorable. “If you go, I promise I’ll score a touchdown for you.”

  “For little ol’ me?” she said, putting a hand on her chest. Even when she mocked me, she was pretty.

  “Oh yes. For you and only you.” I opened my wallet and took out a ticket for a front row seat in Memorial Stadium. I placed the ticket in front of her with an exaggerated flair. “This seat is in the front row. I’ll be able to see you from the field.” She just looked at the ticket. I tried to not come off as needy or pushy, but added, “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

  “Isn’t there anyone else more important you want to give this ticket to?” she asked still looking at the ticket cautiously.

  I had to try a little bit harder. “Absolutely not. This ticket has your name on it. Not literally, but you know I’ll write your name on it if it’ll make you go to the game.”

  She laughed again then picked up the ticket. Her pretty pink nails sparkled in the sunlight as she held it up. It had me wondering if her toenails matched. “Okay. I’ll go. Thank you. You better score that touchdown in my honor. It will be my first football game ever, you know.”

  I tried not to show it, but I was ecstatic she had agreed to go to the game. “A promise is a promise, my lady.” I stood and bowed like a knight in front of his princess.

  She laughed again. The sound made my heart sing, I loved girls who weren’t afraid to laugh. Far too many wanted to remain aloof, unimpressed, emotion-free.

  Not Laney. No, she was easy going and always herself it seemed.

  And she was going to the football game for me and only me.

  3

  Laney

  The birds chirped, the air had grown warm, and I felt as if I was walking on a cloud as I went back to my dorm. My first day had been awesome. I was worried about not fitting in there, but I already felt like a part of the place. My afternoon class, Behavior Finance, was incredible. Behavior finance was a new field that analyzed why people could make irrational financial decisions by combining behavior and cognitive psychological theo
ry with economics and finance.

  Professor Yellen described Behavioral Finance in class as an examination of how people should behave in financial decisions and how people actually behave. It was that difference in behavior that befuddled economists.

  Why did people defy rational choice axioms? For example, why did so many Americans fail to enrol in their employer’s corporate retirement plans even when the employer offered matched contributions?

  I wondered about those kinds of thing myself. Why did people make decisions that would not benefit them? What was it about the human condition that made people continuously choose things that are not in their best interest?

  I was excited about the class and diving deeper into those questions just for my own inherent curiosity.

  Thinking about my conversation with Jett over lunch, I liked so much about talking to him. He seemed genuinely interested in our mutual major. He talked about the application of business principles in other parts of life, which was what I did all the time. It was exciting to meet someone I could relate to and to be able to geek out on theory and concepts without feeling awkward about it.

  He did exactly what I did. He thought about what he had learned and expanded on it. It was almost a shame he was going to waste his brain on playing football.

  I got he loved it, and it could lead to millions of dollars and fame. But I wondered about what kinds of contributions he could make to economic and business theory too.

  I would have never expected the quarterback to be so insightful and well read. I guessed I might have some preconceived ideas about athletes. I had never questioned those assumptions before because I hadn’t met a jock who challenged my prejudices. I suppose it wasn’t fair to judge people based on their affinity for athleticism. People might have thought similar things about me just because of my accent. Thought I was an empty-headed southern bell.

  I turned right onto frat row, promising myself to try to give jocks a chance. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had such a pleasant lunch with Jett. I wouldn’t have found what I hoped would be a kindred spirit.

  I passed by the numerous fraternities and sororities that were gearing up for rush: Tri Delt, Sigma Kappa, and KA. There were just too many to name. Each house was decorated with colorful signs welcoming rush participants.

  I thought about the piles of reading I already needed to get done even though it was only the first day of the semester. I wondered just how anyone could juggle a huge social commitment like a sorority and still stay on top of their studies?

  AD Pi girls were out in front of their house practicing a dance routine and rush song. It looked like a lot of fun, but I would never risk being part of something like that.

  What if my grades suffered?

  I made it to Clark Kerr Campus with a light sheen of sweat on my forehead. Clark Kerr was further away from the other dorms on campus, like the Units that were centralized on campus, but I already loved it there.

  The dorm buildings were Spanish mission-style and had so much more character than the Units that were just basically dorm high-rises. It was six blocks away from the main campus, but the extra walk was worth it.

  When I walked into my room, my roommate, Marsha, was reading a thick textbook on her bed. She was a Pre-Med Biology Major from LA and nothing like I thought an LA person would be like. I guess I thought all people from LA would be like the Kardashians, dressed up and wearing a full face of makeup every minute of the day, but Marsha was naturally beautiful with big brown eyes and full Angelina Jolie lips. All I had ever seen her wear was chapstick. She rocked a laid back, outdoorsy look. She was not at all trying to keep up with the Kardashians.

  Setting her gigantic book aside, she smiled at me. “How was your first day?”

  I sat my backpack down on the floor. “It went well… I think. I’m super excited about all of my classes. It’s absolutely amazing here.” I flopped down on my bed and tried to say my next words very casually, “I met the quarterback today.”

  Marsha groaned and rolled her eyes. “Jett Johnson?”

  I hugged my pillow to my chest as I thought about him. “Yes. He seems like a nice guy. We had lunch today.”

  Marsha sat up on her bed. Her tone was serious, “He may seem really nice, but Jett Johnson has a horrible reputation for being a player. He is a total bad boy.”

  “Really?” I asked as I thought about our conversation over lunch. “I didn’t pick up on the sleazy player vibe from him at all.”

  “That’s because he’s a pro. He’ll make you feel special and then drop you for someone else, just like that.” She snapped her fingers to emphasize her point.

  I decided I’d see what she had to say about the other guy I’d met. “I met the captain of the wrestling team today too. His vibes were totally sleazy. He’s kind of pushy too.”

  Her dark brows went up really high on her forehead as she seemed interested. “Pushy? In what way?”

  My eyes rolled as I thought about Troy. “He kept asking me if I wanted to have lunch with him after I had already told him no.”

  Her expression changed completely as she pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees, resting her chin on top of them. “He’s just being persistent. He probably just likes you. There are bigger problems to have than a hot guy like Troy wanting to hang out with you.”

  But Troy didn’t hit me the way Jett had. “I guess, but Jett was so much more… down to earth. Way easier to talk to and relate to.”

  Her eyes roamed over me as she took me in. “All I’m saying, Laney, is that you should definitely be careful with Jett. I don’t want to see you get hurt. You're a stunning girl, even though you try like hell to downplay that. And Jett's all about the outer appearance and getting into pretty girl's panties.”

  Marsha was nice for warning me, I should’ve been thankful for that. But I didn’t like Troy the way I did Jett. There was little I could do about that fact. “Thanks. I appreciate your advice.” I hesitated for a moment before asking, “What about Troy?”

  A dreamy look came over her face before she said, “Troy? He’s not a bad boy like Jett. He’s a temperamental guy, but that’s probably from all the steroids he’s been taking.”

  The unattractive thought of him doing drugs had me scrunching up my face. “Steroids?”

  Marsha shrugged in response. “He is a wrestler.” She tapped her chin as if she was thinking. “If I had to choose, I’d pick Troy hands down. He’s totally hot. Just as hot as Jett, in my opinion. And Jett has so many girls falling all over themselves for him anyway.”

  My intuition had told me as much. “I guessed that. He’s gorgeous.”

  Marsha moved her long legs out and leaned back, resting on her palms. “True, he’s hot in every way there is. But I’ve never seen him with the same girl more than a few times. That makes him gross if you ask me.”

  All I could do was nod as I thought over what she’d said. Maybe Jett hadn’t met anyone he could really connect with before I came along. Maybe he and I had something special. She wasn’t there, she hadn’t heard us talking. I didn’t say a word to Marsha about what I thought. I kept it to myself. She seemed adamant that Jett was bad news for me no matter what I had to say.

  Still, I had to go to bat for the guy, “He seems to be a good student though.”

  With a cluck of her tongue, she tried to push that fact about him to the side, “Maybe, but after every football game, he parties really hard. He takes partying to a whole new level.”

  That information did throw me a bit. “Wow! Really? I’m not into partying at all. I’ve never even had a sip of alcohol before.”

  Marsha’s big brown eyes widen even more. “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “Seriously.”

  Her expression was incredulous as she asked, “What did you do on your twenty-first birthday?”

  I cringed, a little embarrassed. “I studied.”

  Shaking her head, she seemed not to really be believing me. “How is that even possible? You
didn’t party in Florida at all?”

  But I was being truthful. “Nope. My mom is a professor there, and I studied really hard to get into this school. I was laser focused.”

  Marsha jumped up out of bed. “We have to change this. I can’t stand by and let you miss out on your college experience. I’m pulling an intervention.”

  I laughed at her over the top antics. “What? What are you talking about?”

  Flinging open her closet, I saw tons of clothes I had no idea she even owned. “We are going out tonight.”

  I shook my head, adamant that I couldn’t do such a thing. “We can’t go out tonight. It’s a Monday for the love of Pete.”

  But the look she shot me told me she wasn’t about to take no for an answer. “People go out on Mondays. Get up. We’re going to have drinks at a club nearby.” Marsha pulled out a slinky purple dress and held it up. I had no idea she had sexy clothes like that. Maybe she was trying to keep up with those Kardashians after all. “You’re wearing this.”

  All I could do was continue shaking my head. “There is no way I can pull that off.” Marsha was dead set on taking me out though. She pulled me off my bed and planted me in front of our full-length mirror. Then held the dress up against me.

  She eyed me in the mirror. “Are you kidding me? Look at your figure. You’ll look amazing in this.”

  I blushed as I looked at myself in the mirror. I had never worn anything like that before in my life. “I’ll feel like a girl in a music video if I wear this.”

  My comment didn’t get the intended reaction I was striving for. “Fantastic! You’re wearing it.” She pulled my hair tie out.

  My hair cascaded down my shoulders. “I don’t know.” I was still looking at my reflection. “Should we even be drinking on a Monday? I have a ton of reading to do.”

  Marsha put her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “I do, too. Pre-med, remember? Let’s make a deal: we study for a couple of hours and then head out to the club for a drink.”

  I looked at myself in the mirror. The dress’s purple color was really pretty, and it went well with my hair color. It was the same hue as a golden dewdrop or Duranta erecta, a flowering shrub in Florida. Golden dewdrop flowers were a dark rich purple. It was the yellow berries that hung from the stems that gave the shrub its name, golden dewdrop.

 

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