[18+] ENEMIES TO LOVERS SPORTS ROMANCE
She can't stand the school's golden boy, but when fate keeps throwing them together, their rivalry starts to look a lot like chemistry-and suddenly they're not playing the game they thought they were.
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Hannah
Luck must have finally been shining down on me because I didn't run into Fuckface for the next two days. It was amazing. The sun was brighter, the temperature was warmer, and the air just smelled a whole lot sweeter. I was finally starting to recover from the trauma of my interactions with him.
After everything that went down, I phoned Bailey and told her all about it—because everyone knew that the best kind of therapy came from your best friend. Though in this instance, she was useless. All she could focus on was trying to get me to tell her how hot he was. It was my fault; I shouldn't have mentioned that his face didn't deserve the personality attached to it. At least it seemed that way. I was praying that under his clothes, he was actually really hideous. A bit of a far reach, but it made me happier to picture it.
I didn't even care when my mother called to complain about my dad's new girlfriend, Kelly. She was ten years younger than him and looked like she needed to go on a water, salt, and magnesium diet (not my words). I just listened as I ate mini pizza rolls.
And then my dad called soon after to complain about my mom while I slurped down spicy ramen. She was apparently making very rude public posts about him and Kelly, which I thought was hilarious. Afterward, I settled in to watch a new action/drama series I'd heard good reviews about and was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Even sleep was good that night. I usually slept well, but I woke up in an extra good mood the next morning.
All was normal with the world again.
It was a Friday, and classes had gone smoothly. Fuckface didn't show up for our shared lecture that morning, but I made sure to sit near the front just in case and kept a close eye on the door. Not seeing his face put an extra spring in my step. To celebrate, I decided to treat myself to a meal at the Taproom, a popular sports bar near campus. I went early to avoid the evening crowd, intending to focus on my Epidemiology and Biostatistics assignment while enjoying a plate of their famous nachos. They smothered them in three kinds of cheeses, and the pickled jalapeños were some of the best I'd ever had.
I parked my car in the gravel lot outside and approached the weathered brick structure, taking in its rustic charm. The faded paint on the exterior hinted at its age. Apparently, this bar was as old as Dane itself.
A low hum of chatter greeted me first as I entered, and I found myself in a warm, inviting atmosphere. The rows of lights overhead cast a soft, golden glow as music filled in the background. Several flat screens played a recording of an old football game. It had to be one of our team's matches because half of the players were wearing blue, black, and silver—our colors. The few patrons who were here focused on the screens or spoke quietly among themselves.
As I walked to the back, I barely glanced at the array of signed posters and photographs on the walls. Some of them were relics left by musicians and artists who'd played here in the past. The rest were sports posters with scribbled autographs all over them.
