Page 173 of The Off-Limits Play

She laughs and flops down beside me. “Seriously, though. I thought you’d be able to find a replacement easily enough.”

“My adviser has set up various options, but… it isn’t going well.”

“Why not?”

I hold up my fingers and count off the list. “Superfan, fruitcake, and too sexy.”

“Too sexy? Seriously?”

“We barely got through the intros before she was snatching my hand and dragging me to my truck.”

Blake turns to give me a skeptical frown. “After you invited her there, you big slut.”

I smirk.

“So, you’re out of options, then?”

“I have one more. I just called her, and she seems…” I shake my head.

“What?”

“I don’t know. Like she might be strict and expect me to work really hard. She was going on about never skipping classes.”

Blake slaps my thigh. “She’s the one, then. You need someone who’s gonna crack the whip for ya.”

“I need someone who’s going todothe work for me,” I counter. “The only reason I got through last year was because Neil practically rewrote every assignment I gave him. In the end, he just started doing them for me and dumbing them down so nothing would look suspicious.”

“Oh my gosh.” Blake laughs out the words, then slaps my stomach. “You asshole! I worked my butt off last year, and you just cruise through with a tutor? I officially hate you.”

I grin at her. “You’ll always love me, and you know it.”

“Shithead.”

“Butt face.”

She laughs and nudges me with her elbow. “Well, looks like you might just have to work a little harder this year.”

“Ugh! Ihateschool,” I growl. “The only reason I’m there is for football.”

“Well, that’s stupid. You’re worth more than that game, Wily.”

I roll my eyes. “Iamthat game. I’ve been carrying around a football since I could walk.”

“Please don’t tell me the story about how Dad put one in your crib when you were a baby. I’ve heard it so many times, I can’t stomach it.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“Okay, fine. You’re all about football, but you’ve done three and a half years of college, and there’s no point flunking out now. You may as well see it through.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I brush my hand through the air. “It’s so easy for you to say, though, Blakey. You’re smart.”

“So are you.”

I give her a side-eye and she doesn’t counter it, which means I’m right and she’s wrong.

I’m a dumbass.

A big, stupid brick wall that can dominate on a football field and flunk out of every class along the way.

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