Page 1 of No Easy Catch
1
AMBER
Convincing the hostess to let me into the second semester sports fundraiser was easier than it should’ve been. With one little promise of featuring her on my channel andbam, the young girl ushered me into the ballroom where the school’s biggest and best athletes mingled with coaches, alumni and the press.
Ah, the things people do for attention.
I tapped my pen against my lip while I took in the surroundings. It wasn’t black tie, but it was fancier than a casual get-together and I sent a prayer of thanks to my roommate who’d convinced me to wear a sleek black dress. It was a little tight and I kept running my hand down to the side to make sure my love-handles weren’t bulging out. My coordination was abysmal and I tripped over my own two feet sometimes, but at least I didn’t stand out—which was the goal.
I needed a new story to boost views on my social channels or I would be shit outta luck. No views meant no affiliates, which equaled less money, and with my less-than-stellar first two years at school, I had no internships or job opportunities waiting for me at the end of the semester. The real world was knocking withgraduation looming and I hadn’t a clue what I wanted to or could actually do, so every penny counted right now.
But, I did have a clue about what the student body loved to gossip about more than any other topic—the latest on the hot jocks. Girls, guys, scholarships and walk-ons. My followers loved hearing about the latest flings or scandals and this fundraiser was hot-jock central.
“Amber Henderson?” A familiar voice caught my attention and I glanced at my left to see Peyton Gentry smiling at me. “What are you here for? Sneak in for the free booze?”
“Ha ha.” I plastered on a fake smile despite the flash of hurt. Peyton and I had become friends freshman year—right in the smack of my party days—and he always brought it up no matter how much I had changed since then. Yes, I was a dumbass and partied too hard. No, I still didn’t. “I’m here for a story, not the booze.”
“Right.” He smirked and lowered his voice. “Is it a juicy one?” He slung an arm over my shoulder in a quick hug and, while I didn’t dislike Peyton, I was glad when he removed his arm. “Heard there’s something weird going on with the volleyball team with one of their new freshmen.”
“Yeah?” I waited for him to respond, but his attention drifted elsewhere and he gave me a weak wave before heading off. “Great to see you too, Peyton,” I mumbled to myself. He was an average player on the soccer team but always managed to make himself seem bigger, better, more handsome. I snorted to myself at the headlines I would love to write someday.
Athletes and their egos—sizedoes really matter
The bigger and not better—egos exposed
I took a deep breath,gathered as much courage as I could and walked about the event searching for anything that could be of interest. There were a couple of girls I recognized from the volleyball team, but they seemed normal, laid-back even. Each table had a large tented sign with the sport listed and it amazed me to see how much attention was given to athletes at our Division I school. Were there events like this for scholars? For those who made the Dean’s List year after year?Doubtful.
Schools spend money on sports,not smarts
Yeah,that headline would cause a storm. People would shit on me, but it could raise views which would earn me more… I derailed those thoughts and tried to ignore the tinge of jealousy weaving its way through my body as I walked around the event. All these athletes had futures after college. They had tutors, scholarships, teams that supported them and, as someone who came from the opposite end of the spectrum, it was easy to envy them.
A loud cackle exploded near the front where the baseball players sat talking to what I assumed to be the coaches. They wore polos with the school logo, were significantly older than them and had the whole coaching vibe with the hard face and knowing eyes. Zade Willows, Tanner Johnson and Aaron Hill all wore suits and smiles and a part of my stomach fluttered. They were so handsome and such decent human beings I wished I could’ve written a million posts about them. Their faces alone would get more followers and engagement. But I’d already done a story on Aaron and his girlfriend, so that well was dry. Plus, they were my friends, kinda, and I refused to cross that boundary.
Moving on to another sport, I weaved through tables, trying to listen to conversations for something to spark motivation. Fifteen minutes passed without any luck and the familiar sensation of failure washed over me.How can I pass my senior classes when I can’t even write a stupid social post without getting writer’s block?
God, I wish I could drink.
It wouldn’t hurt anyone if I snuck one bottled water and I blended in with the crowd as I approached the refreshment table. That was the good thing about being average-looking. No one really noticed me like they did my beautiful and tall roommates. I undid the cap and took a huge gulp when I felt someone staring at me.
Water spilled down my mouth and onto my dress when I found cold, unamused gray eyes narrowing at me.Jeff Maddow.He defined my perfect male specimen with his honey-brown hair styled just enough to be cool, his massive broad shoulders that went well with his defined pecs—perfectly showcased in the dark-gray dress shirt plastered across his chest.Good lord.
Shit, did he say something?
Did I?
His light gray eyes were framed by perfectly dark eyelashes and, god damn, those cheekbones were enough to make me forget my own name. I’d always crushed on the baseball player from afar—he was just so good-looking. He blinked and tilted his head to the side with impatience as he approached me. “Amber Henderson, how the hell did you get into this event? You are neither an athlete nor a sponsor.”
“I have my ways.” I jutted out my chin and ignored the sweat pooling down my back. Thank god it was black and you couldn’t see it.
“Did you sneak in? No, wait, let me guess. You bribed someone.” He smiled like it was a joke, but his tone made it clear he was not happy. “I should alert security.”
“Really, Jeff? Come on.” I hated how my fingers shook when I ran them through my hair, trying to act nonchalant. “I didn’t bribe anyone.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” He brought up a glass of champagne to his mouth and held my gaze as he took a sip. It was annoying to be attracted to someone who thought so little of me, but, alas, that was life. People often looked down on me either for being a campus influencer, or for my foolish party days.
“What do you care if I’m here? I’m not bothering you or anyone for that matter.”
“False.” He finished the glass and took a step closer to me. For one stupid second, I wondered what it would be like to feel his full lips against mine, but the look on his face sobered that thought. “You are a known campus influencer who finds out information about people to get views and likes. You’re no better than a tabloid magazine for a college. Athletes have enough to worry about with how hardwehave to work. They should feel safe here, celebrating and networking, not worrying about being featured on a girl’s pathetic page to get attention.”
