Author: Dakota Madison
Genre: New Adult Sports Romance
~ SYNOPSIS ~
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Dakota Madison returns with another spicy sports romance. This story set in the world of college basketball.
Neuroscience student SEDONA MILLER is perfectly imperfect. Sheâs slightly nerdy and slightly eccentric, but completely brilliant.
When an unfortunate accident leaves Sedona with an injured arm and sheâs fired from her part-time job shelving books at the university library she has to find a new gig fast.
The only job available mid-semester is working as a tutor for the athletic academic center. And the notorious bad boy of the universityâs basketball team, JESSE WALKER, is the one and only guy on the new tutorâs roster.
But when SEDONA discovers a secret that could ruin the schoolâs winning basketball team doing the right thing could mean destroying the only guy sheâs ever loved.
~ PURCHASE ~
~ EXCERPT ~
When I finally hit the last room in a long row of rooms I see a guy sitting there looking bored and staring at two fast food containers in front of him on the table.
He glances up at me when I enter. The first thing I notice is his piercing green eyes. I donât think Iâve ever seen eyes that green on a human being that werenât Photoshopped
The second thing I notice is his messy, light brown hair. It doesnât look like itâs been combed it in a week. It makes me wonder if itâs some new hair trend or if he just doesnât bother to style it. Not that I have too much room to talk when it comes to hair. My curly red mop has been the bane of my existence since I was a kid. About the only thing I can ever do with it is pull it back into a pony tail.
âHave a seat.â He points to the chair right next to him.
I remember Lewisâs warning and take a seat across the table instead. I want to be as close to the door as possible. The guy is big and muscular and much more intimidating than I imagined heâd be.
My heart is thumping in my chest because his size and rough demeanor are making me nervous.
When he pushes one of the fast food containers in my direction I cringe. I rarely eat fast food and when I do itâs from Just Veggies, an organic vegetarian place near campus.
He doesnât hesitate to open his container and take a bite of the messy burger thatâs dripping some kind of white sauce all over his pile of fries.
My stomach turns in response.
âI bought you a burger.â He points to the second container heâs pushed in my direction. âAmbrose scheduled our sessions during lunch.â
I make a point of pushing the container back over to him. âNo thank you.â
He frowns. âItâs from Frankieâs. Everybody loves Frankieâs burgers.â
âClearly not everyone.â
His brows knit like he canât believe I refused the food he bought.
âYou donât want it?â He actually sounds hurt.
âNo, I donât.â
I lift my book bag from the ground and point to one of the many political cause buttons I have covering the knitted tote my mom made for me.
He barely acknowledges it. âWhat is that supposed to mean?â
Now Iâm the one whoâs frowning. âMeat is murder. Itâs a slogan. It means that I donât eat animal flesh.â
âYouâre one of those vegans?â He doesnât bother hiding the condescension in his voice.
âTechnically Iâm a vegetarian. I eat free range, organic dairy products.â
âFine. Iâll eat the burger.â He glares at me as he opens the second container and takes a huge bite of the burger.
Iâm appalled until I notice that he slyly pushes both containers away and doesnât take another bite of either burger.
âI guess I should have brought an apple for the teacher.â
âOnly if itâs organic. And Iâm not actually a teacher. Iâm a tutor.â
We both stare at each other for a long moment. Awkward does not even begin to describe our pairing. Weâre like two people from different planets trying to communicate when we donât speak each otherâs languages.
I remove a slip of paper from my bag. âMr. Ambrose gave me your schedule of classes for the semester. Youâre taking Film Appreciation, The History of Jazz, Advanced Yoga and Stress Management. Whatâs your major?â
He shrugs. âUndeclared right now. But Iâll probably go with Sports Management.â
âSo these are Gen Ed classes?â
He cocks his head and looks confused.
âGeneral Education classes,â I clarify. âElective classes you need to take to fulfill requirements that arenât directly related to your major.â
âI guess so.â
Iâm a little disturbed by his lackadaisical attitude, but I let it go for the moment. Weâre clearly not going to be able to develop much of a rapport so maybe itâs best just to get down to business.
âWeâre just handed a class schedule,â he clarifies. âAssigned classes. We donât pick them ourselves.â
âAnd they assigned you the History of Jazz? Thatâs the class that youâre having trouble with?â
âThe dude who was supposed to teach the class croaked and they got this new chick who apparently doesnât like basketball.â
There is so much wrong with his statement I donât even know where to begin. âMight I suggest that you call your professors either professor or doctor and not chick.â
I bristle at my own use of the derogatory word, but I continue, âAnd what does her not liking basketball have to do with your performance in the class.â
At this he gives me a sly smile. âLetâs just say sheâs not willing to play ball the way the other professors are.â
Iâm not sure exactly what he means by that, but there seems to be some kind of sports reference that is lost on me.
âSo youâre saying your other classes are going well and youâre just having trouble with the one class, History of Jazz?â
He leans back in his chair and eyes me for a few seconds before he nods. I donât like when he looks at me like that. Itâs like heâs examining some weird, new specimen and trying to make sense of it.
âAll of my other teachers are huge basketball fans and they know Iâm the in the starting lineup. Iâm not sure what the jazz goddessâs problem is.â
I take in a deep breath before I say something thatâs sure to get me fired. âWhy donât we start by calling her Dr. Fisher? I think that might help. And why do you think she has a problem?â
âShe doesnât like basketball. Thatâs not normal. Everybody loves basketball. This entire campus lives and breathes the sport.â
âI donât love basketball. I donât even like it. Not even a little bit.â
He actually looks stunned for a moment. Like I slapped him. Then he regains his cocky composure.
âYouâre one weird chick,â he mutters almost to himself, but still loud enough that I can hear him.
âExcuse me?â I say even though I heard him. I just didnât like having an insult hurled at me by someone I donât even know.
âYou. Are. One. Weird. Chick.â His words are slower and louder as if I didnât hear him the first time.
âI actually heard what you said. I just didnât like it.â
A smug smirk appears on his face that I would love to slap right off if I could.
I continue. âIn case you havenât noticed Iâm not a bird Iâm a human being. Iâd appreciate it if you didnât refer to me as a chick.â
He bites his bottom lip as if heâs actually giving it some thought. Then he says, âYouâre one weird woman. Is that better?â
âIâm not sure why you have to bring gender into the equation at all. Why not just call me a weird person?â
That makes him laugh. âYou donât care that I think youâre weird. You just donât want me to call you a chick?â
âIâve been weird my whole life. Iâm used to it.â
âAt least youâre willing to own it.â
âSo did you bring your textbook with you or are you just going to spend the next ninety minutes taunting me?â
âI kind of like taunting you.â
~ ABOUT THE AUTHOR ~
DAKOTA MADISON is a USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR. She has been writing since she learned to read and fell in love with books. When she's not at her computer creating spicy new romances, Dakota is traveling to exotic locales or spending time with her husband and their bloodhounds.
Social media links:
~ Tour Host ~
HEA Book Tours, PR & More: http://heabooktours.blogspot.com/