Page 101 of The Chemistry of Us

It had been Tru’s idea to have a party at the house. At the time, I thought it would be great, but failing in front of everyone or potentially failing did not lessen my anxiety.

“You need to relax,” Tru reasoned.

“I can’t relax when my entire future is riding on me being a draft pick.”

“You’re going to get drafted.”

I grinned. “You know something I don’t, Cinderella?”

“Just that you’re amazing, and I’m so beyond lucky to have you.”

“Are you messing with me?”

She smirked. “I’d never.”

“Will you two stop flirting while our lives hang on the line?” Brady expressed.

The announcer suddenly walked on stage to start the fifth round. There were seven altogether, and I knew that if I did get called, it would be closer to the end. I was gripping my cell phone like my life depended on it. All of the nation's top players were in that room with full knowledge they would most likely be picked. They just didn’t know by what team. The league invited all two hundred and fifty of us eligible for the draft, but I decided to stay home with friends and family because I knew I was close to the bottom of the bucket.

I squeezed Tru’s hand so hard when he cleared his throat. “To start the fifth round, the University of Harvard quarterback Vaughan Aires!”

Frozen, I just sat on the couch and stared at the screen. My phone suddenly buzzed in my hand. It was all a blur—the coach calling me personally, welcoming me to the team. I had to sign immediately and head over to Bellevue in the morning to meet the coaching staff. There were more details, but I was too stunned to do anything.

His call was followed by at least ten more—agents wanting to sign me right away. I’d already had my eye out for Matt Kingston. He was a notorious sports agent out of the Seattle area. Thankfully, he finally did call, and I told him I wantedto sign with him immediately. His response was wow, that was easy.

It was two hours of complete chaos, but Tru never left my side. Brady got called at the end of the seventh round to San Francisco, and the guy looked so relieved he was going to pass out.

After our epic news, it was time to celebrate. Everyone was ready for one hell of a good time.

“Get me a drink?” Tru questioned.

“How about a dance?” I asked instead.

Her smile grew. “I’d love to dance with you.”

I didn’t waver, standing and grabbing her hand, leading her to the dance floor that happened to be our living room.

Once we were done having a moment, I stated, “Let’s get you that drink now.”

“Oh, are you trying to get lucky?”

I put my hand on my chest. “I’m offended. Can’t a guy just get his girl a drink?”

“How about a margarita with Don Julio tequila and salt around the rim?”

I laughed. “I aim to please.”

She giggled.”

“No really, it’s on my résumé.”

“Is that next to your low IQ?”

“As a matter of fact, it is, but the size and girth of my cock on the sentence below makes up for it.”

“I see.”

I smirked. “You will soon.”

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