Matchplay

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Authors: Dakota Madison

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MATCHPLAY

A New Adult Romance

Dakota Madison

MATCHPLAY

Copyright © 2013 by Dakota Madison

All rights reserved.

This ebook belongs to vzyl at 64 70 67 72 6f 75 70 forum.
The name vzyl refers to an entity and not any registered user with the same name.
I hereby acknowledge that I have shared this book without
permission from the ebook owner if I earn profit or rewards for providing access to this ebook.

This is a work of FICTION.

Names, characters, places and incidents are
either a product of the author's offbeat imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons
living, dead or previously dated by the author, is entirely coincidental.

A SHORT ON TIME
BOOK:

Fast-paced and fun novels for readers on the go!

For more information, visit the website:
www.shortontimebooks.com

 

One

The Front Nine

 

I
felt my stomach start to clench as my dad pulled into the entrance of my new home for the next four years. Let’s just call it Elite Private University (EPU, for short). There are a number of places like it in the United States. Most of the kids, who attend EPU, come from wealthy and privileged families. Most of their parents also attended the school and probably even met their spouses there. There are a handful of kids, like me, who come from middle class families but worked hard and earned scholarships to attend EPU. If it weren’t for those scholarships, most of us would probably be at Big State University instead.

I didn’t want to be nervous about starting college but the more I tried to stop myself, the more nervous I got. Ugh.

“Remember what I told you,” my dad said. “I want you to start acting like an 18 year-old again. I want you to have some fun.”

Fun.
I can’t remember the last time I actually had fun. It had to be before my mom got sick. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer my junior year of high school. I’m an only child and my dad had to work full-time, so the majority of caregiving during my mom’s illness was left up to me. Most girls my age have fond memories of high school homecomings and proms; most of my memories during my last two years of high school involved hospitals and the hospice.

I turned my head and pretended to peer out the passenger side window. I didn’t want my dad to see the teardrops that had escaped down my cheek as I tried to discreetly wipe them from my face.

My mom died near the end of my senior year. She didn’t get to see me graduate from high school. I missed not having her there, when I was making such an important life transition. It hurt that I wouldn’t have my mother with me for any of the major life events I had to yet to come.

I looked back at my dad and he gave me a warm smile. I n
oticed the frown lines that were now permanently etched in his face. He didn’t have them two years ago, before my mom got sick. I also noticed a few more wrinkles starting to form around his intelligent blue eyes and his jet black hair was greying at his temples. He was still a handsome man at forty-eight but he was much more weathered than he had been in his mid-forties. Dealing with my mom’s illness and death had definitely aged him.

My parents had told me many stories about how they met and fell in love in college. Dad said it was love at first sight. He knew immediately that he was going to marry my mom as soon as he saw her. They got married right after they graduated. After a lot of struggles with fertility issues, I arrived eight years later. My parents weren’t able to have any other children, so I was doted on and spoiled by both of them. But I also bore the responsibility of every hope and dream they would ever have for their offspring and I met every expectation they had of me.
Maintaining the image of being the perfect child became much more difficult when my mom got sick. In order to take care of her and still keep my grades up, I had to give up my social life. My dad knew I didn’t have a normal high school experience, so he urged me to make up for it in college, hence the, “I want you to have fun” comment.

As we approached the freshman dorms, there were already parents and my soon-to-be classmates everywhere. There were so many boxes and pieces of dorm furniture strewn about the lawn, driveway and sidewalks; it looked like a massive yard sale.

“I may have to drop you and your stuff off and then try to find a parking space,” my dad said as his eyes darted around the brimming parking lot.

“No problem,” I
agreed.

“Please wait for me,” he continued. “You over packed your boxes and I don’t want you to lift them.”

I may have gone a bit overboard packing my library of art books but I wanted to make sure I had all of them with me. Nearly all of the baby-sitting money I had ever earned when I was a kid was invested on my art book collection. Whenever my parents asked me where I wanted to go on Saturdays, my answer never changed: an art museum. I lived and breathed art. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much talent for creating art but I loved studying it. I read the biographies of painters for fun. I may have been the only twelve year-old in the country to ask for a subscription to an art criticism journal for her birthday. The only major I could ever see myself pursuing was art history. I already knew I was going to have to do well enough to get into a competitive graduate program as well as maintain my existing scholarship.

As soon as he saw an opening, my dad pulled up to the curb in front of the dorm. He hopped out of the car and popped the trunk open. I followed. I felt a little bit of panic as he removed all
of my belongings from the back of his SUV and placed them on the sidewalk. The act seemed so final. I was no longer under his protective wing. He was pushing me out of the nest. I just hoped I could actually fly.

When he placed the last box on the curb, my dad gave me a kiss on the check. “I’ll be right back
. Wait right here.”

I stood next to my pile of boxes and watched as all of the other freshman and their
parents frantically unpacked cars and trucks and hauled their stuff into the dorms. A perky young woman, who looked to be about twenty-five, approached. She was carrying an iPad and a sheet of printed name tags. 

“I’m Emily Dickinson,” she said.

I blinked wondering if I had heard her correctly.

She chuckled. “My parents are both professors here. English, obviously. I’m a graduate. I now work as the Residence Hall Director.”

I nodded.

“If you tell me your name, I can check you off the list and give you a name tag. And then I’ll go in and get your key.”

“Rainy Dey,” I said and cringed a bit. I hated introducing myself to people. “That’s D—E —Y.”

Emily tried to stifle a smile. “And I thought my parents were sadistic naming me Emily Dickinson.”

“It was my mom’s idea. She loved rainy days and she told my dad she wanted to make sure people always remembered my name.”

Emily nodded like she completely understood. She typed my name into her
iPad then removed my pre-made name tag off of a sheet and handed it to me. I stuck it on my shirt.

“I’ll be right back with your key,” she said. “Your roommate, Olivia, has already checked in. She’s around here somewhere. I’m sure you’ll run into her.” Emily gave me a big smile then headed toward the dorm.

I could feel my heart racing. Why was I so nervous? Thousands of eighteen-year olds did exactly what I was doing every fall. Most of them survived and even prospered in their new surroundings. Rationally, I knew I would do just fine but I was still anxious.

I saw two gorgeous guys heading in my direction and wo
ndered why. The first guy was big, like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. He obviously spent a lot of time in the gym. His white polo short fit snugly on his huge arms and chest. When he stopped a few inches from me, I gulped. He towered over all five foot four inches of me by nearly a foot. I only weighed about 115 pounds and he could have easily been double my weight.  His dirty blond hair was cropped close to his head and he looked down at me with dazzling green eyes.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “Need some help with those boxes?” he asked.

I couldn’t speak. He was so intimidating. I wondered if there was a hole in the ground close by that I could just crawl into.

Then I noticed his friend standing next to him. When our eyes met, I could feel my breath catch. He had almond-shaped chocolate brown eyes that immediately made me want to melt. His
dark brown hair was nearly shoulder length. He was a little shorter than The Rock standing next to him but still about six feet tall. He was muscular and fit but not to the extreme of his friend. The guy could have been the most beautiful person I had ever seen. The Rock was good looking but there was something special about the brown-eyed boy that was so captivating, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him.

Once I was able to
escape from his intense gaze, I noticed that both men’s polo shirts matched. The insignias on their shirts were two crossed golf clubs circled in gold. Weird. I had read that the university didn’t allow sororities and fraternities on campus.

The beautiful brown
-eyed guy elbowed his big friend. “I think you’re scaring the poor girl, Evan.”

Evan looked down at me and gave me a winning smile. “How can you possibly be scared of me?” I recognized his smile. I had seen it before. It was the rehearsed smile of young people, who would eventually end up in politics or on Wall Street.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another guy and girl hurrying toward me. The girl was tall and lean with long, strawberry colored hair. The guy struggled to keep up. He was tall and lanky, like the girl, but his reddish hair was a bit fuller and much shorter. There was little doubt they were related. The girl squeezed herself between me and the two gorgeous guys, which wasn’t easy because they were standing very close to me. The guys stepped back when they saw how intent she was on getting between us.

The girl glared at the big guy and said, “We’re going to help her. You two can find someone else to help.”  She gave the final
help
such a weird emphasis it was obvious she intended a double-meaning. Did she think those two gorgeous guys were hitting on me? Ha! The idea was preposterous. Guys like that didn’t give girls like me a second look. I wasn’t unattractive but certainly never stood out, except academically, but I was definitely not in their dating league. Guys like that dated cheerleaders. They didn’t date bookish girls like me.

The girl’s glare remained fixed on the big guy. He didn’t i
ntimidate her one bit. I was impressed. When I snuck a peek at the beautiful brown-eyed guy, I noticed he was looking at me. He had a strange expression on his face, like he was studying me. When our eyes locked, it sent shivers down my entire body. I gulped and quickly turned away. When I snuck another glance in his direction, I saw that he was grinning at me. I could feel my face flush. Was my lack of experience with boys that obvious? I turned away in shame.

I guess the big guy finally realized he had met his match b
ecause he shrugged and said, “Come on, Aaron, I see some girls over there, who look like they can use some help.”

Without another look at the strawberry-haired girl, Evan took off. I watched as Aaron followed his friend. I almost fell to the ground when Aaron turned back around and winked at me. Oh. My.
God. He was hot.

The girl looked at me and her expression was serious. “Pro
mise me you’ll stay away from those guys. They’re nothing but trouble.”

I gulped. Aaron was trouble? It didn’t surprise me. Anyone that good looking probably changed girls like he changed unde
rwear.

“I mean it,” she said.

“Okay.” I tried to appease her.

“In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m Olivia.
Your roommate.”  She pointed to her name tag, which I had totally missed with my attention was fixed on Aaron.

She continued. “This is my brother, Lucas. He’s a junior.”

I looked at Lucas and he nodded. He wasn’t a bad looking guy but not as heart-stoppingly gorgeous as Aaron. He had a serious face that reminded me of many of the guys my dad worked with at his engineering firm.

“My brother is
an engineering major. And he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He wanted me to make sure I told you that.”

Lucas playfully smacked his sister’s arm. “I wanted you to
share that information a bit more subtly than that.”

Olivia looked at me. “I don’t do subtle
. I’m a speech and communications major.”

“She should be a theater major
.” Lucas laughed. “She’s already a drama queen.”

She glared at her brother. “And he thinks he’s a comedian.”

I laughed. Olivia seemed to be my complete opposite but I already liked her. And I really liked the fact that she had a brother, she was obviously close to. Maybe he could adopt me as an honorary little sister.

My dad rushed toward us. “Sorry it took me so long to find a parking spot.” He eyed Olivia and Lucas.

“Dad, this is my roommate, Olivia, and her brother, Lucas.”

The three of them shook hands. Then Olivia said, “I’ve got my stuff in the room already, so we can give Rainy a hand with her stuff.”

“Fair warning,” my dad grimaced. “The boxes are heavy.”

Emily rushed over to us and handed me my room key. “So
rry, I got held up with your key. I’ve already had to break up a fight and do a quick roommate reassignment.”

“Emily Dickinson, I’d like you to meet my dad, Mr. Ron
Dey.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr.
Dey,” Emily said as she extended her hand to my dad.

I thought I saw a bit of a twinkle in my dad’s eye as he shook Emily’s hand. Was he flirting? I thought about how I’d feel when my dad started dating. I didn’t think it would be immediately. It had only been five months since my mom died but I knew it would happen eventually. I wanted my dad to be happy again. It had been so long since I had
his genuine smile.

“I’ll let you all get back to the big move-in,” Emily said e
nthusiastically. She had to be one of the perkiest people I ever met.

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