Reading Online Novel

1st Time Love

1st Time Love (Dirty Down South #1)
        Author: Sapphire Knight

       
         
       
        
Another day in the life of a college student equals me doing loads of homework and reading the next preorder that hits my Kindle tonight. The homework bit sucks, but not the reading; I've been waiting three months for this new release from one of my favorite authors. I'll happily be staying up until my eyes feel like needles are scraping against them with each blink while I busily flip page after page of what's sure to be an amazing read.

Tomorrow's Saturday so at least I'll get to sleep later than I usually do during the week. That has to be one of the hardest parts about going to college-making myself go to bed so I can peel my lids apart the next morning. Being in my second year, I still haven't learned my lesson, and I don't see it changing anytime in the near future either.

I'm a bit of an overachiever when it comes to classes and reading. I've always been that way though and still love getting good grades at the end of each semester, so I continue to study my butt off when others are out living it up. Most people come to college for the 'experience,' also known as hooking up with lots of men, partying, and overall acting a little crazy.

Not me. I enjoy my quiet life and being a bookworm. I'm not a saint by any means; I've had dick before, but not much. Around the dorms here, it seems like everyone and their best friend loves to brag about who they're dating or sleeping with. I think it's a bit trashy, to be honest. I'm not stuck up, really; I just have standards.

So far the college guys around campus haven't been up to par to meeting my criteria, unfortunately. Granted, I haven't actually looked for a guy since I've been here. The past few, brief boyfriends were plenty for me.

Life seems so much smoother when you just go with the flow. My best friend is different on the other hand, always gushing over someone new. I'll only be here for another year so what's the point of putting myself out there, you know?

Not to mention, my father would probably shit a brick if he got wind of me doing the same stuff everyone else does. We didn't qualify for any financial help besides my partial scholarship, so he forks out my college fund. The only thing he asks in return is for me to do my best. I think that's pretty reasonable and he doesn't bug me too much. A call here or there and the rest of the time is just me on my own in Alabama. He's a few states away if I ever need him, and I love visiting him when I have breaks, but we aren't that close anymore.

It's the weekends that are the hardest, I reckon. Once my schoolwork's all caught up, and my latest book is read, it can get lonely. I have my bestie, Brianne, with whom I share my dorm, but she stays busy with plans. Don't get me wrong, I'm always invited, but that's not my thing. 

I wish I were the more outgoing type, but a few friends have always been plenty to me. It's the whole quality over quantity logic, and then throw in the fact that I can be a bit of a smartass most of the time; well, only some people seem to get me.

"Hey lady, you hanging out here tonight?" Brianne nods towards my twin-sized bed. It's shoved over in the opposite corner of hers and piled with throw pillows. I freaking love throw pillows; you can stack them any which way to get comfy. Those things are important when you're an avid reader.

She grabs her purse and slides on her sandals, floating around the room.

"Yep, a new book to read." Smiling, I wave my Kindle at her like it's an actual paperback or something.

"Well, have fun and tell me about it later, okay? I'm off with Justin!"

"Who's Justin?"

She shrugs, shooting me a goofy smile.

Laughing, I call, "Be safe," as she heads out the door.

Another night to myself. Thank God for my next book boyfriend to keep me company.





Saturday, Game Three





I'm down after the snap.

Fuck.

This lineman is crushing my chest and feels like a goddamn fridge on top of me. "Get off me, man." Grumbling, I push against the mammoth, attempting to get the huge guy to roll off without squishing me further.

Marlyns-number eighty-eight-struts past us to line back up and gets me with a swift kick to the ribs on his way. Praise God for pads or these assholes would hit me with cheap shots every flipping game.

Jumping to my feet, I head towards the line. "Briggs, switch," I call out to my teammate.

"What?"

"Take RB."

"I'm not a running back, dude!" His eyes grow wide, the black paint on his cheeks smeared down part of his cheeks from him wiping away sweat.

"I'm team cap, right? Switch."