Page 15 of One Day

“Just filling you in on the project and that you’re going to be assigned to some of us to do profiles on you,” I share before passing him his phone back. “You’ll make sure I get someone good, right? Sweet talk Coach Shay?” I ask, a hopeful smile painting my face.

“I think you misunderstand what Coach is willing to be sweet talked into.” His laugh fills the living room as he falls back into the couch cushions again. “The man is a complete hard-ass, and I’m certain he hates me, but I’m sure whoever gets assigned to you will switch with me.”

“Who said I wanted you? I was going to ask if you’d get him to assign Campbell and Fitz to me.”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re joking,” he says, waiting for the punchline to hit before his expression grows serious. “Sunny, tell me you’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about this?” I ask, biting on my bottom lip to keep from smiling. “This is very serious, Dylan. I want the best.”

“I am the best.”

“Not when it comes to this.”

“Sunny, you’re not funny.”

Unable to help myself, a giggle slips out at the twisted look on his face. “I am a little though, aren’t I?” I ask, reaching over to pinch his cheek. “I will settle for whoever I get. Just tell your teammates to behave. I want this to go as smoothly as possible.”

“And you don’t think I can behave?”

“No,” Bekah answers before I can. Her book now tucked under her thigh. “How do you feel about your chances?”

“Good, I think,” I share and slip my fingers into my hair after unclipping it, running my fingers along my scalp.

I’m not naïve enough to think this opportunity will be easy. It wouldn’t be as big as it is if it was. I am going to be working my ass off for the small chance I might get picked. Every step will be a challenge, but I’m not about to let the fear of failing keep me from even trying.

“It’s not going to be simple, that’s for sure. Professor Andrews isn’t going to let it be, but a little hard work isn’t going to scare me off,” I tell them, hope blooming in my chest. I spent my entire high school career proving to my college advisor and myself that I could do this. He didn’t believe I could, thought I was playing a losing game, and I’ve been proving him wrong at every corner. This isn’t going to be any different.

Bekah's hazel eyes are bright when they meet mine. “You’re going to kickass.”

“Who’s kicking ass?”

I turn my head at the sound of Reid’s voice as he comes in through the front door, bag slung over his shoulder, paper coffee cup in hand, and book tucked under his arm. “Me,” I answer his question, leaning my head back. “My class is competing to have our app pitches selected for the university’s athletics department.”

“Starting with the best sport of all,” Dylan adds on.

“I don’t know about that. Those baseball players wear their pants well,” Bekah says, glee in her eyes knowing she’s bugging Dylan in the process.

He rolls his eyes. “You clearly haven’t been taking a very good look at my ass, Beks.”

“You wish.”

“I don’t need to wish, I know,” he says, pushing my legs off his to stand up. He’s in the process of turning around to show Bekah the evidence when Reid draws my attention.

“Is everything okay with Walker?”

My interest is instantly piqued, turning in my spot to look at him. “He seemed fine when I talked to him. Why?”

He shrugs, setting his bag down on the kitchen counter next to mine before turning to lean back with his arms crossed over his chest. “He seemed a little off, that’s all. Was asking me if you were okay.”

A seed of hope flares in my chest, like he just laid it out on a silver platter. The growth was immediately cut off by Dylan doing what he does best and bursting my bubble. “He’s probably just making sure she’s okay after turning her down when she asked him to fuck her.”

I feel my cheeks warm under both Reid and Bekah’s surprised gaze.

“Idiot move going to the friend if you ask me, should be going to someone unattached,” Dylan continues, not realizing he’s just spilling my secrets around.

“I’m sorry,” Bekah says, her book falling when she lets her feet drop to the floor. “You did what?”

“Seconded.” Reid points and rounds the couch, sitting on the arm of her chair. “What did you do, Sunny?”

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