Claiming Callie: Part one Read Online Free Page B

the first time since she left Mr. Bucek’s office, Callie actually thinks it’s possible to pay down her debt enough by graduation.
    She fixes Dean with her iciest gaze. “Stop being so overprotective. I know sometimes you act like the brother I never had, but it’s not like I’ve never dated before. This is the same thing. It’s just that I’ll be going on a lot of dates and being compensated.” She turns back to her computer. “Now, tell me, what bio will attract customers while not sounding sleazy or desperate?”
    Behind her, something slams. She jumps in her seat and whips around toward the door. Dean’s basketball bounces, then rolls toward her, and when she glances around the room, he’s nowhere to be found.
    What the heck is his problem?
    “Brothers,” Jinny says, answering her unspoken question.

    Shrugging, Callie turns back to her computer and rubs her hands together. “Let’s get started.”

 
     
    CHAPTER TWO
     
    DEAN
     
    Outside, the air is brisk. Snow falls in quarter-sized flakes, coating the ground of campus. But inside the stuffy gym, the temperature rises. Dean discards his warm-up pants and sweatshirt for his silky Pitt shorts and tank. Beads of sweat roll down his face and soak through his thick hair. He squares off against three players on this Saturday morning.
    He dribbles. The ball pounds against the floor, then back up to his palm. When Jason tries for the ball, he does a figure eight and moves it behind the opposite leg and back again. Grinning as he stares into Jason’s eyes, he pivots and makes his move. He brushes past Jason, crosses to the other side, lifts the ball, and shoots.
    The ball swishes through the net. Dean raises his hands in the air and hoots, his breath coming hard. From across the court, Emmett, his best friend, shoots him a high five. But Jason glares at him, his brown eyes turning onyx with challenge.
    “Last point,” Jason says. “Whoever scores wins.”
    “Fine by me.” Dean runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “How ’bout we up the stakes? Next point wins double.”
    Jason raises his brows and cocks his head. “Okay. Just you and me. Winner takes one hundred bucks.”
    “Let’s do it.” Dean heads to the position at the top of the court where they’ll square off. The other men drop back, giving Dean and Jason the court, since it’s their bet and their money on the line.
    Dean stands a couple feet in front of Jason. He bends his legs and holds his arms and hands out, his limbs limber. Ready. Waiting. He stares directly into Jason’s eyes. He’ll see the move there before anywhere else.
    Jason darts left and Dean follows, covering him. Jason backs up, dribbling with ease, then slides right, but Jason meets Dean’s hard chest, a roadblock to the hoop.
    From behind him, Emmett hollers. “Come on. Give us something, Jason. Prove you’re not a pussy!”
    With the words echoing through the gym, Jason scurries left and elbows Dean in the gut, then spins in the opposite direction.
    “Oomph.” The air whooshes out of Dean’s chest, and his hand flies to his stomach. But after only a second, he forces his feet to move. React. He spins and sprints. His long legs give him the advantage, and in three strides, he’s back beside his opponent, and just as Jason raises his hands and sets up for the three-point shot, Dean knocks the ball from his grip.
    Jason curses, but Dean’s too fast for him. He dribbles toward the hoop and plants his feet. He bends, pumps his arms, and jumps to deliver his signature slam dunk, but just as his hands graze the cold rim of the hoop, Callie’s face flashes in his head. And his hands fumble the ball.
    He hears Jason come up behind him and watches, in slow motion, as the ball spins on the rim, then falls off the edge, missing the net. When Dean’s feet hit the ground, Jason checks him in the ribs. Hard.
    Stumbling backward, Dean groans and clutches his ribs. “Shit,” he hisses.
    He squints downcourt to see Jason