The Player Hater (Accidentally in Love 1)

My mother worked full-time and my dad was never in the picture—Mom didn’t have time or the resources to be driving me and my younger sister from one activity to the next, so I chose football. Damn she was relieved when I got a full-ride scholarship to college; more relieved when I not only got drafted, but I’d earned a degree, too.

Plan B, she said.

And Mom wasn’t wrong—I sure as hell needed that fallback the minute my knee gave out during a playoff game, ending my professional career.

Juliet takes advantage of my silent reflection, giving me a once-over. She starts at my feet, gaze traveling up my legs, waist and chest, neutral expression never faltering.

I can’t for the life of me tell what she’s thinking, but I hope it’s ‘Wow, Davis is so incredibly handsome and good-looking. Loves animals, is wonderful with children. Bet he would make someone the perfect boyfriend, maybe I should hook him up with one of my friends.’

Sighing, I ease my big body into the minuscule bathroom and slide closed the door.

CHAPTER 5

Juliet

What on earth is Davis Halbrook doing behind that tree?

I have the thought as I make my way down the trail to the pier with a book clutched in one hand, bottle of water in the other, my suspicions of him causing my eyes to narrow in his direction.

All I can see is the back of his head, back, and ass popping out, the tall oak tree concealing whatever it is he’s doing.

Hmm.

Weird.

In general, I don’t necessarily think that Davis is weird. Over the past twenty-four hours he’s actually proven to be a relatively decent guy, if putting me to bed after a night of drinking is any indication of his moral fiber. He hasn’t tried anything with me and he hasn’t been a jerk.

Quite the opposite in fact, Davis is personable, funny and seems to be winning over everyone at the campground. I eyeball him as I meander down the path, the romance novel in my hand taking second fiddle.

For real, what is he doing?

Needing to investigate, I change direction and make my way toward him. I’m not loud, so it doesn’t appear that he hears me as he continues to stand in the same position. Instead of approaching him from behind, I approach him from the front, making an arch, so that I’m not sneaking up on him.

God knows I don’t want to scare the crap out of the guy by approaching from the back, although the idea does make me smile.

He seems to scare easily, the way he rambled on and on about bears last night.

I might have been drunk, but I don’t suffer from drunk amnesia, remembering quite well his panicked word vomit as he tried to act tough.

Stepping off the pea gravel walkway, I move around the tree and see water spraying out the front side of the tree, my eyes and my brain not making the connection at the same time, the delay far too late when I’m standing directly in front of my roommate.

“Oh my god, you’re peeing!”

“Jesus!” he shouts in reply, hand holding his dick as he stands peeing on the ground.

“Oh my god, shit!”

“Shit!”

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, I tell myself, willing myself not to look down and follow the stream of urine up to his penis and God, why am I still standing here?

This is a private moment.

On the other hand, he’s in public.

Er, sort of.

“Why aren’t you in the bathroom?” I ask, slightly affronted by the entire situation.

“What do you mean why aren’t I in the bathroom, we’re in the woods!”

“So? Obviously anyone could come along and see you!”

“We’re in the woods!” he says again. “And I have a dick, I don’t need to pee inside!”

“Why are you yelling?” I ask, crossing my arms and lowering my tone because he’s right, and I’m just embarrassed and projecting onto him.

Davis goes about shaking the remaining pee from his cock and stuffing everything back into his jeans, zipping them up and placing his hands on his hips.

“Don’t even start that nonsense.”

Nonsense?

I laugh, holding the book up to my face, shielding my grinning mouth.

“Oh now you think this is funny?”

I lower my head. “I didn’t get a look at anything, honest.”

Sadly.

I mean—not that dicks are pretty or fun to look at, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious. What girl wouldn’t be?

Big, small, shower, grower: inquiring minds want to know!

Over the top of my book, my gaze goes lower to the front of his jeans—not on purpose, but because they have a mind of their own and right now, that mind seems to be in the gutter.

Listen, it’s been a long time since I’ve been laid and I’m warm blooded, no matter what thoughts I had when I came into this vacation that isn’t my idea of a fun vacation.