Page 43 of The Surprise Play

Even with all that effort, I still feel like a world-class dick.

Shit, Satch is so right. If my buddies knew that I’d checked out their girls—albeit very briefly—they’d pluck my eyeballs out. I can’t go hurting my team this way. I need to stop this shit.

But damn, it’s gonna be hard.

This campus is filled with hot chicks, and so many of them intentionally cross my path. It’s hard not to notice them.

Your girlfriend or wife won’t appreciate it.

Satch is right.

Not that I’m interested in having a girlfriend right now, but one day I want a wife and family. Will I still be checking out other women when I have one waiting at home for me?

Hell no.

Which means I’ve got to start practicing now.

Blake always calls me a man slut, and we both think it’s funny.

But the way Satch spoke to me before makes me kind of hate the fact that I am. She looked at me like it was something to be ashamed of, and my peacock feathers have taken a serious hit. That’s what Blake always tells me I have.

“Strutting around campus with your peacock feathers in full bloom, you cocky shit.” She would shake her head at me and laugh.

Spinning the blue fidget toy around, I glance up and watch Satch finish typing the sentence I just gave her. It obviously wasn’t a very good one, because she’s reworking it a little. I’m losing concentration. It’s hard to think when I’ve got her look of disgust in my head.

“Do you think I’m an asshole?”

“What?” Her head jolts up, and she blinks at me in surprise.

I’m kind of surprised too. I don’t know why I even care what this woman thinks of me. She’s my tutor. It’s not like I’m trying to get it on with her or anything, but for some reason, the idea of her thinking less of me is driving me nuts. I scratch the side of my mouth and stare back at her.

Her surprise starts to fade, her lips pursing as she takes in my expression. “Are you referring to our earlier conversation? About the mental undressing thing?”

I nod and clench my jaw.

“Wily…” Her lips twitch. “I may not like that you do that, but I don’t think you’re an asshole.” Her tone is soft and reassuring. “You have so many great qualities. Just because you do one thing I don’t like doesn’t mean I’m going to write you off.”

The sweet look on her face makes me smile, and soon her lips are spreading wide as well. I’m about to get hit with one of her full beamers when her expression falters and she dips her chin, hunching over and staring at her laptop screen.

“You okay?”

“Yep.” She accentuates theP, and the tension radiating off her is palpable.

“You sure?” My eyebrows dip together. I can feel it.

She darts a look at me, then past my shoulder before she nods, slapping her laptop closed and shoving it into her bag.

What the hell?

“Where are you going? Are we done for the night?”

“Just need the bathroom,” she squeaks, her cheeks flushing bright red before she bolts out of the booth and does this awkward little jog past the counter.

I watch her go and wonder if she’s got her period or something. I know some girls get some horrible shit going on. Blake’s told me all about it. There was a girl in her class last year that got the worst periods. I didn’t want to know all the details, but I got them anyway.

It’s called flooding, and it can be quite horrific by the sounds of things.

Shit, I’m so glad I’m not a woman.