Page 11 of Fighter Daddy's Girl

Still giggling and unable to speak, I shake my head. It only seems to encourage Lila more because she keeps pressing me to tell her as she laughs along with me.

“Come on, babe,” she urges. “Tell me. Who is this mystery man?”

I’m mortified, but part of me wants to tell her. Part of me wants to share my experience with my best friend. I mean, if I can’t share it with her, who can I share it with?

“It was Griffin Harris,” I blurt out.

Her eyes grow so wide, she looks like a cartoon character, making me laugh. She grips my hands and leans in close.

“The fighter from last night?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah. Him.”

“Oh my God, you slut. I love it,” she cries. “Tell me everything.”

And so, I do. I tell her everything from the moment I stumbled into the locker room to the second I left him outside the door. I don’t spare any details. Okay, well, maybe I didn’t tell her I had to immediately wring out my panties when I got back to our room, but I told her everything else.

“Babe, that is amazing,” she says. “I’m so proud of you. You’re finally taking my advice, having some fun, and enjoying the bounty this world has to offer. And let me just say, you picked a delicious morsel to start with. That is one hot man. What I want to know is why didn’t you bring him back up to the room and bang him within an inch of his life?”

My cheeks are burning, and I’m sure it’s a shade of red not normally found in nature. “I couldn’t do that. You’re crazy.”

“Why not?”

“Because, for one thing, we’ve got the RA from hell, and I wouldn’t have ever gotten him up there in the first place.”

“Well, that’s true,” she admits. “Why didn’t you just go back to his place?”

“I was in shock that he kissed me and wasn’t exactly thinking clearly,” I say with a laugh.

“Excuses, excuses, babe,” she says. “You’re never going to get laid if you don’t grab the bull by the horns. Or should I say, grab the fighter by the balls?”

I shriek with laughter. “You are horrible!”

“That’s why you love me.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. You’re going to see him again, right?”

“I gave him my number.”

“I guess that’s something. You should have given him your panties as a promissory note or something, though,” she teases.

We laugh together, and though I’m still kind of embarrassed about it all, I’m also kind of happy it happened. And it feels good to share it with Lila, even with her wildly inappropriate commentary. As I sit back in my chair, I happen to catch sight of Professor Bryson. He’s sitting a few tables away and is staring directly at me, sending a chill down my spine.

“Oh God,” I say and turn away quickly.

“What is it?” Lila asks.

“Don’t turn around, but Professor Bryson is just over there, and he’s staring at me.”

“That man has a real thing for you.”

“It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“You should go to the department chair about him,” Lila offers. “Or if not him, the Dean.”

“I don’t want to create problems.”

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