Hell, I’m not sure I believe me at this point but I also know I can’t just fuck this girl and walk away because yeah, Lexie will beat the piss out of me. Plus, Ivy lives right next door and we kind of have the same friend group right now. Which is where that old saying- don’t shit where you eat comes in to play. And I really don’t want to cause problems for Dylan.
Now, if you pressed me to add one more item to the list of reasons why I should keep this thing with Ivy strictly on a friends level, I’d have to say it’s because I have zero interest in having a girlfriend. I need more pressure heaped on me like a fucking hole in the head and that’s exactly what a girlfriend would be.
And honestly, over the years, I’ve found girls to be fairly superficial creatures. They want to be with me for my looks or because I’m an athlete. Not a damn one of the girls I’ve been with has ever asked me what I plan to do if football doesn’t pan out. Nor do they care that I’m a straight A student. Or that I scored a thirty-three on my ACT when I took it at the end of my junior year in high school.
Nope.
I could be dumber than a freaking fence post and they wouldn’t blink an eye. I could treat them like a piece of shit smeared across the bottom of my shoe and it wouldn’t matter one bit. Although I would never do that because my mom would slap me upside the head if I treated a girl disrespectfully which is exactly why I’m always courteous and upfront about my intentions. If they aren’t into it, then they aren’t into it. No big deal. But let’s be real here, other than Ivy, I’ve never come across a girl who wasn’t into it.
They get to be with Roan King and that’s all that really seems to matter. They get their friends to snap lots of pics which are then uploaded and posted by the time I’m even done fucking them. So I don’t feel bad for banging all those faceless females and not bothering to tie myself down to one in particular. As far as I’m concerned, I’m better off on my own than dealing with some mercenary chick who only wants me for the status I bring them. I have to wonder if I’d be getting as much ass if I weren’t looking to turn pro this year. If I weren’t on my way to making millions.
Not that I’ve spoken to anyone about this, but I’m starting to waffle about entering the draft this year. Because I red shirted my freshman year which essentially means I was on the team and I practiced, but didn’t play in any games. NCAA guidelines only allow players four years of college eligibility. So far, I’ve used three. The red shirt season doesn’t count. So, technically, I’m able to stay at Barnett and play for one more season even though I’m currently in my senior year.
The plan had always been to use these four years to earn my degree and enter the draft if it looked like I could potentially go in the first or second round. Which it does. There’s been a lot of hype and that only seems to be growing. And I’ve shown well at the combines I’ve attended. So, I’m in a really good position right now.
Possibly the best I’ll ever be in.
Except I switched majors last year and that set me back credit-wise. Plus, with football, I haven’t always been able to take fifteen credits a semester like I thought I would. Sometimes I’ve have to lighten my load.
So I’ve been playing around with the idea of staying for a fifth year. I haven’t spoken to my family about it because they’re not going to like the idea. But I know I need a fall back in case things don’t work out. I’m all too aware that most guys who go pro only play for an average of three years. And it can be cut shorter if they sustain a career ending injury. Which in football, is always a possibility. It’s highly doubtful this will be the only thing I do with my life. I need to have a solid game plan in place if things go south.
So finishing up my degree is important to me.
Dylan lays back before picking up the bar and the two hundred pound weights added to it. He grits his teeth before slowly raising it above his chest. After the forth rep, the grunting begins. I almost shake my head. Dylan is ridiculously loud when he works out. Unfortunately, that also carries over into the bedroom… if you know what I’m saying.
I unfortunately know this because the walls of our apartment are paper thin. And Lexie spends the night frequently. And that dude can be loud as fuck.
“You need to keep away from her. I’m serious. Everything is going well with Lexie. I don’t need you fucking up my relationship because you can’t stand to be denied.”
I roll my eyes. “Give me a damn break. What am I? Like two? I’m not going after her because she isn’t interested, okay?”