Page 18 of Sporty Girls Don't Fall For Loners

Zoey crashes into my chest, her hair whipping across my cheeks and nose. Slowly, she glances up at me, brown eyes wide. Then she repels from me like I’m contaminated.

“Sorry,” she says with an embarrassed laugh as she tucks some hair behind her ear.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I roll on the heels of my feet. “It’s no problem. I was headed to the shower.”

She glances at my pajamas, then at the ones she’s clutching in her arms. Mine are a plain blue while hers is scattered with football designs.

“I was also going to take a shower,” she says.

She looks at me and I look at her.

“Well, looks like you’ll have to wait your turn.” She’s about to walk off, but I close my fingers around her wrist and gently yank her back.

“I think it’s you who has to wait your turn.”

She pulls her hand away. “And why’s that?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “My house.”

“Excuse me? Last I checked, my last name is Hastings.”

Tilting my head to the side, I squint. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Yeah, that I’m taking a shower first.”

Again, she turns to go, but I back her into the wall.

Her eyes widen.

“Geez, I’m not going to hurt you,” I tell her. “But I came to live here before you, so I’m taking a shower first.”

“Wow. You really are a jerk.”

I move my face closer to hers. “Hmm. Maybe. But don’t worry, I’ll try to be quick.”

I feel her eyes on me as I make my way down the hallway and to the bathroom. Once the hot water rains on me, I think about her words. She’s right—I am a jerk, no matter how much I wish I wouldn’t be. I just am. Maybe there’s nothing I can do about it. Maybe I’ve been through too much pain and hardship to ever be a decent human being.

After I’m done, I get dressed and leave the bathroom. Droplets from my wet hair drip down my face and shirt. I guess my hair is getting a bit too long. I’ve always had long hair, but not this length. But I prefer it this way.

I’m surprised to find Zoey by the wall I left her at, though she slid to the floor, knees pulled up to her chest and her pajamas resting on them.

She looks up at me. “Too bad I can’t stay with a friend,” she mutters as she glares at me. “Living with you will be a nightmare.”

I chuckle. “Oh, I’m not that bad.”

She gets to her feet. “The right thing to do was to let me go first, you jerk.”

My eyebrows lift. “Why? Because you’re a girl?”

“No. Because I spent the whole day packing and moving and I’m tired and just want to roll into bed.” She throws her hands up. “And yeah, it wouldn’t kill you to be chivalrous, would it?”

I inch closer to her and she backs away. Darn it. Does she honestly think I’ll hurt her? Yes, I’ve gotten into fights and my muscles can be intimidating, but I don’t hurt girls or anyone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Maybe it’s time to get that pretty head of yours out of those romance books—”

“I don’t like romance books,” she interjects.

“This is the real world. And in the real world, people suck. They hurt others, they don’t care about anyone but themselves. And then you find yourself lost and alone.”

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