Free Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Pass To Win Book 1) by Roxy Sinclaire Page B

door. “I figured out that Martin is an ass. You can let me out now.”
    “Nice try,” Sasha answered. “The fact that we can still hear shouting isn’t a good sign.”
    I stomped back over to the bed and finished my cold breakfast. I was starting to feel a little better physically, but I was still in a horrendous mood.
    “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” he said to me.
    “Like what?”
    “You’re so incredibly stubborn. Why can’t we discuss this like rational human beings?”
    “Because nothing I say ever matters,” I retorted.
    “I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “Maybe when I get out, you’ll be ready to talk about this.”
    “We’ll see,” I mumbled under my breath. There was nothing more to talk about. I tried to be friends with him, and this is what I got. I was locked in a room with a guy that continued to cause problems for me. I wanted out, out of this room, out of this “friendship”, out from under my parent’s control.
    Since there was nothing else for me to do with Martin in the bathroom, I slid under the covers to rest my eyes. I just wanted a few minutes of darkness and silence so I could think.

15

Martin
    W hen I got into the bathroom, I sat on the edge of the tub and pulled out my phone. I needed to talk to someone with experience in girl problems, but I didn’t want Alexa to hear me. I sent a text to Sam:
    Things are really weird with Alexa. She’s mad at me for no reason. What should I do?
    I could see him typing almost immediately.
    I heard all about it. You have to work things out. All couples fight every now and again. It’s normal.
    Word spreads quickly.
    We’re not a couple. She hates me and there’s nothing I can say to make it better.
    Do you like her? he asked.
    Of course I do.
    Make sure she knows it. Keep me updated.
    I set my phone down on the counter next to a wadded up washcloth covered in pink, black, and tan stains. It was rare to see a cheerleader without makeup. Her eyes looked so soft and tired, and light freckles that I didn’t even know were there dotted her nose and cheeks.
    I turned on the shower and got in, standing motionless as I let the cool water wash over my body. Think , I urged myself. What should I say to convince her to trust me?
    I thought about a job interview that I had years ago. The interviewer asked me how I convince people that I’m trustworthy. I had never thought about it before. I told her that I don’t have to use my words, because people could look at my past actions and just know that I was trustworthy.
    I then thought about my past with Alexa. For years, I had teased her and pulled stupid pranks. I didn’t do it out of malice; I guess I wanted to have a reason to interact with her. It made sense why she didn’t trust me.
    I never gave her a good reason to. If I couldn’t show her that she could trust me, I would have to convince her with my words.
    I toweled off and chose a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans from the closet. I had forgotten the way a hot shower and a clean change of clothes could give me a fresh outlook on life. I was ready to talk. I hoped she would be, too.
    I opened the bathroom door, ready to start my speech, just to find her curled up in bed, asleep.
    I chuckled. Typical Alexa. If she couldn’t win an argument, then she’d just sleep through it. I would have joined her, but I slept great and didn’t want her to panic if she woke up next to me again. I tried the door again, but it was still locked.
    I sat down at my desk and did a little studying. I had a test the next day, but I already accepted the fact that I wouldn’t do very well. I had been too distracted lately to pay attention in class. I was reading about different survey research techniques when my phone buzzed.
    I don’t hear any talking, Sasha’s text read.
    She fell asleep while I took a shower, so I’m enjoying the quiet , I responded.
    I hope you like being locked in your room, because you’re not