There are three places I never want to die:
The library basement—where Wi-Fi gets swallowed by the void.
The dining hall during Mystery Meat Monday.
The Covey Crushers men's locker room.
Guess which one I'm standing outside?
Grumbling, I shove through the double doors, cursing myself for needing this placement.
Three months.I can handle three months.
But the truth hits as soon as the cold locker room air touches my cheeks.I'm a dead woman walking right into the icy chill of my own personal morgue.
Deep voices echo around the room, and something by Bailey Hill blasts from the speaker.Sadly, not even her weapon-grade sugary pop can make me peppy this morning.
My grip tightens around my bag, and I take a deep breath before pulling out my assignment sheet even though I've already memorized every soul-crushing word of it.
Monday, 3 P.M.Athlete: Cross, Jay.Injury: Adductor strain.
The paper crinkles in my hand as I let all my frustration out on it.I refuse to quit over taping Jay-fucking-Cross's thigh for three months.
I've survived worse.
Come to think of it, maybe I haven't.Maybe three months of taping, touching, massaging Jay Cross will be the worst thing I'll ever have to endure.
The idiot tried to pick me up when he was a freshman with the immortal line: “Wanna see how well I handle my stick?”
My response?I'd rather be eaten alive by fire ants than hear him speak again.
I wasn't a bitch because I thought he was unattractive.Unfortunately, one of the worst things about Jay Cross is that he's probably the most beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on.He's not just cute.He's breathtakingly handsome, which is exactly why I wanted him to work for my attention.
If he wanted a shot, he'd need something better than that pathetic excuse for a pick-up line.
I waited all night for him to come back and try again.
All.Night.
He didn't.In fact, he ended up going home with some girl on the cheer team, which led to the biggest mistake of my life.Derek Strokes—Yes, he swims, and no, he does not live up to the name.Tragic, really, since I ended up dating him for two years.
Don't ask me why, but I'm ninety-nine percent sure Jay is to blame.The missing percent is just me being polite.
I've managed to dodge Jay ever since that party, but now?Now I have to tape his thighs twice a week.Not the hockey team.No, that would be too easy to avoid him.Jay Cross specifically, because he's coming off an adductor strain and according to my professor, I need more exposure to thigh work.
I tip my chin up and turn the corner, only to be met with men.
