Page 28 of How to Lose at Love

I didn’t know we were arguing; I thought this was playful banter.

“Want a ride?” As soon as I say the words, I wish I could snatch them back.

Especially when she throws a hand in the air, dismissing me.

“Nope!”

The thing is, I’m not going home, so why would I offer? I’m headed to the gym next to get in a workout with my brothers, but I would have given her a ride regardless.

A pang of guilt settles in my stomach.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have taken fifty bucks from Diego to dump her—I should have made him do it himself, forced him to man up and be an adult. If you’re going to date someone, you should have the decency to tell them yourself you’re no longer interested…

Hindsight.

It does me no good now.

Ryann Winters is the only person on this campus holding a grudge against me, and she can’t seem to stand the sight of my face.

Most girls come running. Most girls beg.

Try to sneak into my hotel room at away games.

Try to come home with me if I’m at a party.

It’s frustrating and annoying, the level of desperation to date someone they perceive as famous so they can be famous, too. Not because they themselves have accomplished anything except snagging some poor bastard dumb enough not to smell a clout chaser when she’s right in front of him.

Not that dudes can’t be clout chasers; I see plenty of those too. Guys who want to be my friend so they can be seen hanging out with me, hoping it will raise their status with the ladies. Guys who want to fuck me and don’t care if I’m gay or not.

Sigh.

By the time I’m checked in for my workout and get changed into mesh shorts and a bro tank, my brothers are already halfway through their routine, Drew spotting Drake on the deadlift.

When they see me, they stop and mosey my way, ready to annoy the crap out of me.

Like flies to shit, a few more guys meander over, wanting to be near greatness. The Colter brothers might not be dominating the world yet, but we’re as popular as the Kardashians, at least by my standards.

Our pops would be proud, may he rest in peace.

My brother Drew slaps me in the chest with one of the lifting gloves he’s removed, stretching while I strap on the weight belt.

Diego and a dude named Kellen stand like two turds floating in a punch bowl, serving no purpose but to irritate me.

Drake is restless. Bro loves a good gossip session while we’re hard at it, and today seems like no exception.

“Have you talked to that girl you gave a ride home to since?”

“What girl?” I say, knowing damn well what girl he’s talking about. The little snitch can’t keep his mouth shut when we’re surrounded by other people.

My younger brother is a colossal pain in my ass most days.

“Yeah, what girl did you give a ride home?” Everyone is interested, especially Drew, my other brother, who wasn’t home when I spilled the tea to Drake.

“The one with the guy name. Ryann,” Drake supplies, flapping his big mouth for everyone to hear.

He knows Diego was dating her because I told him, so why is he bringing this shit up in front of everyone if not to stir up trouble?

Little dickhead!

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