[18+] ENEMIES TO LOVERS SPORTS ROMANCE.
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Hannah Walker doesn't trust anyone, especially men.
They're manipulative and toxic - her lousy ex taught her that lesson well.
Enter Tristan Beckett, the embodiment of everything she despises. He's arr...
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Who?
Bryson? I'd slept with some guy named Bryson?
What the fuck was she saying?
"Amanda, I don't think this is a good idea. Let's go back, please," Penelope pleaded, attempting to pull Amanda away from me.
She'd obviously run back to her boss like a good little minion to relay my message. Though, I had to admit, I hadn't been expecting Amanda to show up herself. For as long as we'd hated each other, there had never been an outright fight. Jenny, usually the peacemaker, always intervened before things could escalate.
Confused, I blinked at her. "I literally have no idea what you're saying right now. Who's Bryson?"
"My ex-boyfriend, Bryson!" She screeched, stepping closer to me.
"No fucking shit," I growled, leaning heavily on the sarcasm. "I have no clue who Bryson is — whether you dated him or not. And I certainly didn't have sex with him."
Had she seriously been treating me like shit all because of this? This was it? This was the fucking reason? Because she thought I'd slept with this random guy? You had to be kidding me.
"Yes, you did! He told me everything, so you can stop playing dumb," she exclaimed, her voice rising in frustration and drawing the attention of those nearby.
Crossing my arms, I just stared at her. I genuinely didn't know how to reply to anything she was saying; I was just confused and annoyed. Looking to my best friend for guidance, I found her sipping on her coffee, observing us with an amused twinkle in her eye. The subtle curve of her mouth signaled that I was on my own— she wanted to see how this all played out. I shot her an unimpressed scowl. The poor barista just watched all of this go down with wide, enraptured eyes. Even a couple of people close by had started to take notice of the tension between Amanda and me, trying to watch us nondiscreetly.
I sighed, resigning myself to this ridiculous situation. "Can you at least tell me who this guy is before you accuse me of sleeping with him?"
She only seemed to get more mad at my words, her pretty face flushing bright red, but thankfully, she provided me with some much-needed details. "Bryson Pendergast — he was a senior who played on the football team last year. I introduced you two the day you moved in."
No wonder I was struggling to remember him. Those days had all blurred together as I tried to pull myself out of that deep, dark hole. Every day had been an internal battle as I'd forced myself to go to class, to eat, to do anything but wallow in darkness. If you'd asked me anything about that time, all I could tell you was what it felt like to be drowning out of water.
"Okay... what did he look like? Did he have any defining features?" I raised a brow, unimpressed.
Bailey suppressed a snicker, disguising it with another sip of her coffee. Penelope, on the other hand, was standing frozen by Amanda's side, looking increasingly pale, her complexion draining with every passing second.
