The Senior (College Years 4) - Page 49

By the time we all shower and change, it’s nearing midnight when we arrive at the party. We coordinated it so the majority of the team would arrive at the house together and the moment we walk through the door, we’re greeted by enthusiastic party-goers, most of them female. I smile and nod as they talk to me. Say thank you when one girl with huge tits brings me a beer, then bats her extra-long fake eyelashes at me.

But I’m just going through the motions. Pretending to be excited when I’m really not.

I find Diego, Caleb and Tony huddled together in the back yard and I immediately go to them, letting down my guard when I settle into a chair and we start talking about the game and who we’re playing next week.

“Where are your girlfriends?” I ask them, when there’s a lull in the conversation.

They send each other a look before they turn their focus on me.

“Around,” Caleb says vaguely.

My gaze meets Tony’s, who shrugs. They act like they’re hiding something.

Or someone.

If she’s here, I think I’d feel it. My Ava senses would be tingling. But I feel nothing at all, which is almost worse. To numb myself further, I drink more beer.

Do shots with a group in the kitchen.

Chat up a few of the newer members of the team, filling them with hope and telling them not to give up. I remember sitting on that bench the majority of my first season and I was nothing but a ball of frustration the entire time.

“It gets better,” I tell them, enjoying the way they watch me as if I can do no wrong, hanging on my every word. I remember staring at Ash Davis with the same dumbstruck look on my face. “Stick it out. If you’re good, you’ll succeed.”

I’m buzzing. Feeling high—and I didn’t even partake in the blunt a group of dudes was passing around earlier. I’m high on the attention, on the way people who are complete strangers seem to know exactly who I am. It feels good. It’s heady shit.

But real life eventually calls.

As in, I gotta take a piss.

Making my way through the house, I find the hallway where I assume the bathroom is. I spot a blonde girl leaning against a wall, her back to me. Her hair is long. Reminds me of Ava’s.

Every blonde woman I see reminds me of Ava. This is nothing new.

It’s the way she holds herself that’s familiar. My gaze drops to her ass and I know in an instant it’s my ex.

I’d recognize that ass anywhere.

A groan leaves me, louder than I intended, and she whips around, proving that yes indeed, it’s Ava. Her gaze narrows when she spots me and she drops her hands to her sides, her phone clutched in one of them.

“It’s you.” My tone is accusatory, though I knew she’d show up. I’m just being dickish about it.

“What are you doing here?” Her tone is accusatory too.

We say this at the same time.

Always friendly, aren’t we.

“I didn’t think you’d show.” I point at her.

She frowns. “Well, here I am.”

My gaze sweeps down the length of her, lingering on the best parts. “Looking pretty fine tonight, too.”

Her lips twist. “Eli.”

“What? Just statin’ facts.” I let my gaze wander yet again. “Don’t like me checking you out?”

“I’m not sure how to feel about it.” She sounds almost…amused.

Tags: Monica Murphy College Years Romance
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