Blurb
Real Players Never Lose
I’ve heard the whispers on campus of what a player Teddy McCallister is. Most girls on campus are vying to be the one, but guys like him don’t settle down.
When he overhears that my tuition has been pulled and I’m going to basically be a college reject he makes me an offer I can’t refuse.
Be his fake girlfriend until graduation so he can get his inheritance.
It seems simple enough. I need the money and he needs someone to make him look committed.
If one thing is certain, it’s that I won’t be falling for him. But no one warned me about what happens when my fake boyfriends starts to fall for me.
1
Teddy
Winter break was a fucking fiasco of epic proportions.
I don’t know why my dad thought a ski trip to Vale would make things better. I would’ve rather spent my break cooped up in the mega mansion like a prisoner than forced to pretend that we’re one big happy family on vacation as we smiled and waved at cameras.
I couldn’t even enjoy skiing like I normally would’ve.
But the McCallister family is nothing if not all about the appearances.
Gag me.
I open the door to my shared dorm with my friend Jude. He’s a junior and I’m a senior, but I pulled strings sophomore year so that we’d be roomed together. It helps when Daddy Dearest is a huge donor to the school you’re attending.
It’s a few days before the new semester starts. It took some convincing to get back early, but my mom was on my side. If it wasn’t for her, I think I might’ve strangled my dad a long time ago. He’s a controlling son of a bitch. He doesn’t care about me or even her. The only thing that man loves is money and now he’s using it to keep me in line.
If I don’t do what he wants, he’ll keep my inheritance from me.
My grandpa set it up so that I would receive it upon my college graduation. I think the old man was afraid I’d skip out on school if he didn’t add that stipulation, and he was probably right.
But with my dad holding the reins now, it means I have to listen to him.
And sure, I’ve fucked around a lot—I’m a twenty-one-year-old red-blooded male. Of course, I like having sex and drinking in excess and partying until the sun comes up. It’s college. Who doesn’t do that shit?
But I got shit-faced over the summer and accidentally stole a yacht—I thought it was my family’s—and after trashing the inside with a party I accidentally crashed it. My dad had enough after that and laid down the law.
My senior year is fucked because of his iron fist. Thank God I only have a few months left and then I’m done with this place, I get my inheritance, and I can bounce.
I have no idea what he’ll do when he doesn’t have his precious one and only child to continue on the family business and connections.
Jude’s not back yet, so I have the place to myself which is an appreciated change. It was nice living with him before, when we could both enjoy women and booze, but watching him while I can’t is a total annoyance. Sometimes I find myself questioning if I was really that bad.
Yes, yes I was.
Actually, I was worse, but that’s a story for another day.
Jude and I have a shared space between our bedrooms that’s big enough for a couch, TV, gaming system, and tiny kitchen. We’re stuck sharing a bathroom too, which was weird for me at first when I came to college since I grew up in a house with seventeen bathrooms.
Yeah, seventeen.
I’ve never even taken a shit in all seventeen. Why anyone needs that many bathrooms is beyond me.
And at prep school we all had our own private quarters.
I set my suitcase on top of my unmade bed.
At the estate I grew up in, there would’ve been someone making sure my sheets were clean, bed was made, and whisking my suitcase away to unpack.
I won’t lie, it was strange when I first came to school and realized I had to do shit myself. Even at the fancy prep school I attended there was always someone picking up after me.
But now I like doing shit myself. Well, like is a strong word, but I guess I appreciate not being coddled twenty-four-seven. I’m not complaining. I know I’m privileged as fuck, but all I’m saying is it’s not always what it’s cracked up to be.
Having money doesn’t mean things are constant rainbows and sunshine.
Sometimes it means you’re merely a pawn and even a punching bag when need be. And you can never say a word or they’ll end you.
A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it down. I don’t want to obsess over this. I’m typically a happy go lucky guy. I refuse to let things get to me. Especially anything involving my father.
I dump everything out of my suitcase, freshly cleaned by the maid at the penthouse we stayed in. I shove everything into drawers, not bothering to refold it, because what fucking difference does it make if it’s folded or not when I pull it out to wear it?
With everything put away in less than five minutes, I stand in the middle of my room with my hands on my hips. It’s quiet in here. Too quiet.
I turn on my Bose speaker and the annoying voice tells me it’s now connected. I turn on my Get Pumped playlist and drop to the floor, banging out a set of sit ups, then push-ups, then burpees. Anything to keep my body moving.
I don’t like idle time and I don’t like silence.
Both of which I currently have in spades.
I work out until I’m covered in a light sweat, then hop in the shower. By the time I get out, towel wrapped around my waist, Jude’s arrived.
I’m both glad for the company and irritated, because I know this place will be crawling with people soon. Jude wasn’t always such a manwhore, but after his longtime girlfriend left him for another football player, he kind of lost his shit.
“’Sup, man!” He greets me with a wide grin. “How were the slopes?”
“Great.” I scrub a towel over my scalp.
“That’s all I get?” He scratches his jaw.
“Uh … fantastic?”
He shakes his head. “You seem out of it, dude. You know what’ll fix that?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “Beer and chicks.”
“What do you have in mind?” I hope he doesn’t pick up on the edge in my voice.
“Harvey’s, what else?”
“Sure, why not.” Harvey’s is our usual haunt, and I could go for a beer or five. It won’t be the typical crowd since most of my friends aren’t back yet, but what does it matter? Besides, it’ll keep people from hanging in our room and I can get out for a while. Even if I have to keep my hands to myself. Such a fucking tragedy. “When do you want to go?”
“Nine?”
“Perfect.”
Harvey’s is normally packed from wall to wall, where even standing room is filled up. The bar is the go-to for most people on campus. But with students not required to be back until Sunday, people are using that time to their advantage.
Despite the small crowd and lack of most of our friends, Jude and I still take our usual U-shaped mega-booth in the back near the dancefloor.