A Girl, a Guy, a Tournament and a Challenge
The Girl: At a time when most girls obsess about homecoming and high school prom, Rainy Dey
spent her senior year caring for her dying mother. So when her father drops her off at college
to start her freshman year, his words of advice to his bookish daughter are to start acting like a
young person and finally have some fun.
The Guy: College senior, Aaron Donavan, aka Mr. Hot-and-Knows-It, is President of the
Clubhouse, a social club for the college’s most wealthy and popular guys. Aaron can have any
girl on campus except the one who challenges and excites him the most—Rainy Dey.
The Tournament: Every year, the senior members of The Clubhouse engage in a golf-inspired
tournament to see who can sleep with the most freshman girls. When Rainy finds out about the
tournament, she believes Aaron’s only interest in her is to score points by taking her V-Card.
The Challenge: Can Aaron convince Rainy that his feelings for her are true and that she won’t be
just another notch on his tournament scorecard?
I ran my hand along the collection of books until I landed on the Introduction to Art History. There were only a few copies on the shelf. As I went to grab one of the copies, another hand reached for it at the exact same moment. I had been so caught up examining the books, I hadn’t even noticed another person had walked up right beside me.
I turned to see Aaron staring down at me. He seemed to have gotten hotter looking, if that was even possible. He had on a tight white polo shirt that accentuated his muscular chest and his jeans fit snugly in all the right places. What drew me in, though, where those incredible eyes, dark brown and dreamy. And the guy had magnetism. The only problem was that he knew it and knew how to use it.
“So we meet again.” He flashed me an incredibly sexy grin. My heart skipped a few beats. Ugh. How could I be falling right into his trap? There was no way I was going to be one of the many girls on his score card.
We were still both holding the same text book and staring into each other’s eyes. Neither one of us retreated on either front.
“Why are you taking Art History?” I blurted. Seniors rarely took Intro courses.
He furrowed his brows. “Why not?”
“You like art?”
That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. It made his enrollment in the class even more of a mystery.
“I don’t really get art,” he continued.
“Art is one of the few things I do get.”
He shrugged. “My advisor told me that I wasn’t going to graduate unless I took two arts classes. I had a choice between art and theater. This seemed like the lesser of the two evils.”
He finally let go of the book and I took it into my arms and held it like a treasured child against my chest. He grabbed another copy from the shelf and flipped it around. It physically pained me to see him treating the book with so little care.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“That book’s expensive,” I said as he continued to flip it around like a soccer ball.
He looked down at my book and the way I was holding it. He placed his book against his
chest and mimicked the way I was holding mine. “Is that better,” he mused.
I turned to walk away from him and he grabbed my elbow, “Hey, wait, Sunshine…”
I flew back around, enraged. “I never gave you permission to touch me,” I spewed.
He dropped my arm as if touching me now burned his hand. He looked shocked. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.
“Why did you call me that?” I was still fuming.
“Call you what?”
“Sunshine?” I wondered if he had seen my nametag the other day when we had met and was making fun of me.
“It’s a term of endearment,” he said.
“It’s not funny.”
When I looked into his eyes, he seemed genuinely confused. Maybe he hadn’t seen my
nametag after all.
I could see a hint of sadness cross his face but then just as quickly it was gone. “For once, I wasn’t trying to be funny. There’s just something about you that radiates such passion and joy. Apparently except when I’m around. You just reminded me of sunshine and the nickname seemed appropriate. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
When I searched his face, he seemed to be genuinely remorseful. I felt a twinge of guilt for getting so upset with him.
“My name is Rainy,” I said. “Rainy Dey.” I spelled my last name for him like I usually did when I met someone new.
He blinked a few times as if he was trying to register what I had just said. Then the corners of his mouth turned up into a small grin. “And I called you Sunshine.”
“You’d never know I had any moves at all.”
“Well, you can keep your moves to yourself or save them for some other girl because your chances with me are zero,” I responded frankly.
“Zero?” He placed his hand over his heart in mock pain. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m not here to date. I’m here to get an education. Besides, girls like me don’t date guys like you.”
“That’s a lot of negativity to absorb all at once.”
“There’s nothing negative about it. It’s just the truth.”
He gave me an intense stare that seemed to instantly melt whatever coldness I had toward him. His beautiful brown eyes were almost too much to bear. Then he bit his lower lip and continued staring at me. I felt like I was being put under a spell. He took my breath away.
“We’ll see about that,” he whispered then he winked at me—again. What was it with all the
winking? Whatever it was, it worked, though, because I thought my knees would give out. Then he turned and walked away.
Dakota Madison 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.
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(1) eBook copy of MATCHPLAY. Available electronic formats are mobi and PDF. Open International. Winner will be announced by April 12. Prizes will be delivered following April 22.
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