INTRODUCTION
Egotistical Player is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Cocky Bastard. It’s published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.
PART ONE
High School
CHAPTER ONE
Harleigh
His right hand swipes across his wet, sweaty forehead. He reaches down and slowly, painstakingly, peels the white T-shirt from his body. I bite on my bottom lip as hot, sticky sweat trickles down his rock-hard abs. I can’t rip my gaze away. It’s like I’m glued to the latest episode of the hottest TV show.
Damn, what I would do to run my tongue up and down his abs and lick the sweat right off him.
Instead, I lick my lips, but I’m brought right out of my daydream when my best friend’s voice comes through on the phone once more.
“Harleigh, are you even listening to me?” Aubrey asks, impatience evident in her tone.
“I’m sorry, Aubrey. I’m a bit… distracted.” That was one way to put it. Distracted and unable to look away…
Distracted.
Mesmerized.
Fixated. It all works the same.
It’s hard to explain how I really feel about Preston Scott. Yes, I have a serious crush on him. Yes, he’s hot as hell. But I hate him. I do. The way he carries himself and walks around like he owns the world? It’s a turn-off. At the same time, it’s sexy as fuck, and my feelings for him are constantly at war with one another. He’s not mean or even an asshole, but anyone can tell by how he holds his head up that he thinks he’s the shit.
He is. But it’s annoying.
Annoying and hot.
Jesus, I’m screwed.
“Ha! Yeah, I bet you are. What are you looking at? No, wait. Let me guess. Let me guess… Preston staring at his self-centered ass in the mirror, admiring what a fan-fucking-tastic physique he’s got. Ugh, the man is worse than a damn beauty pageant queen.”
I roll my eyes. My best friend doesn’t seem to understand what a god Preston is. Who cares if he knows he looks good? It’s called confidence.
Scratch that. It’s borderline arrogance, but fuck, I can’t deny it. He’s gorgeous and has every single right to be. All the girls from our high school want him. Wait, I’m being conservative. It’s not only the ones from our school. It’s ones from neighboring towns too. There have even been rumors of college chicks trying to get with him. Who knows if it’s true… Of course, Aubrey thinks he’s cute too, but she is not impressed with his confidence. She thinks he’s a definite player. Plus, since she knows how badly I’ve got it for him, she’d never want him for herself. She’s my best friend.
“I’m looking out my window. He’s in the yard playing football with Cory, and he just whipped off his shirt.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harls. Please step away from the window.”
Shrugging, I say, “I can’t. He’s so damn cute. But you know I can’t stand him.”
Cute is being low key. Preston is hot.
“Yeah, you can’t stand him, but I bet you’d love to sit on his face and ride it… possibly jump his bones.” She lets out a deep-bellied laugh.
Ha! I’m still a virgin. Probably one of the last few from my school. But I refuse to have sex with just anyone so that I can say I’m not a virgin anymore. I’d rather give myself to a guy who I’m in a serious relationship with. Someday I’ll find him. “I would not! I would never do that, but—Oh, shit!” I shout and duck below the window frame.
“What? What happened?” Aubrey asks.
“He caught me staring,” I answer and slowly lift enough so my eyes can take a small peek. Thankfully, he’s brought his attention back to his game with my older brother, Cory, so I stand once more. I decide it’s best to hide behind the sheer curtains this time.
“Please don’t feed into his massive ego, Harleigh.”
I take one last glance at my perfect god throwing a football around in the yard outside and then step away from my window. I plop onto my bed and lie down, facing the ceiling. I still have those cute little star cutouts my mother decorated my ceiling with. At night, they light up, illuminating my room. How I’d love to gaze up at the stars with Preston someday…
Of course, that’s not reality. It’s nice to dream.
I take a deep breath and simply reply, “Okay.”
“Look, Harls, I love you like you were my own sister, okay? I don’t want to see you getting hurt over this egotistical asshole. He’s a player, and you know it.”
I shrug and close my eyes. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s always single. Sure, we see him with dates when we go out, but he’s never with the same girl long enough to be considered his girlfriend.”
“And that’s precisely why he’s such a player. He purposely stays single because he doesn’t want to be tied down to anybody. He’s what you would call a true player.”
I think about her words for a second, but I’m not convinced. I know I should be. I know I should stay away and distance my heart from his charming good looks, but I can’t.
“All right, I have to go. My mom’s calling me down for dinner. Try to keep busy so you’re not still staring at him, okay? Remember, we have two years left until graduation. Then we can get out of this town, take a road trip, and travel. We need to get out of this small suburban life and see what else is out there.”
I open my eyes and giggle. Our childhood pact of taking a nice long road trip across the country after graduating high school is still something we both really want to do. Of course we are planning on going to college, but Aubrey is going to go out of state, and I’m planning on attending the university just an hour from where we live.
“Okay, girl. Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”
We hang up the phone, and for a second I remain in my position, just closing my eyes once more and picturing Preston’s gorgeous face.
Preston is a modern-day James Dean. The only difference is their eye color. While Dean’s eyes were baby blue, Preston’s are dreamy, mysterious, and hazel brown. And he’s got dimples whenever he smiles. If that’s not saying enough about how hot he is, then I don’t know what is. He’s got the whole package. Plus, the fact that his body is ripped and chiseled like a Greek god doesn’t hurt one bit.
I leave my phone on the bed and rise from my spot. I’m hesitant, but I can’t help myself from looking out the window once more. I reach the curtain and pull it back slowly. There he is, still tossing the football around with my brother. As Cory goes to make a touchdown, Preston slowly turns his head in my direction, looks up at me, and flashes the most gorgeous, dimpled grin I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. This time, I don’t bother looking away. Instead, I relish in his stare and smile back. Fuck, he’s so cute.
As he rips his gaze away from me and I’m standing still, glued to the vision that is Preston Scott, he grabs the football away from Cory and runs full speed across the yard. He does some turns and tosses the ball up in the air, then catches it with his right hand, mastering it like a skilled NFL pro.