Surviving Us Read Online Free Page A

my full name, it wouldn’t ring any bells for her; m ost teenage girls don’t follow high school and college football much, unless it’s where they go to school.
    I’m a washed up has-been, yesterday’s news, my life but a shell of what it was a couple of years ago before everything happened. Once the most highly recruited quarterback in the country, now the only football I play is Madden on XBOX, while lounging on the couch in my parents’ house.
    She stops beside me and reaches down to lift one of her bags up.
    “I’ve got them both. Go ahead and get in the car,” I say, more as an order than a suggestion. Can this girl not see all of these guys openly gaping at her and her mile-long legs sticking out from those jean shorts?
    “Thank you,” she mumbles, turning on her heel and moving towards the backdoor.
    I finish loading the luggage, then get in the backseat next to her as the driver slides in behind the wheel.
    “So, Ti Kaye, man? Is that right?” the local asks in a heavy island accent, peering at me through the rearview mirror.
    “Yes, sir,” I reply politely, “that’s the one.”
    “Dr. Secret, not sir,” he says as he pulls out onto the gravel road, the warmth of the late afternoon funneling through the open windows of the car.
    “Excuse me?” I question, unsure if I heard him correctly.
    He twists around to look at us directly and smiles widely; his teeth are as bright white as his outfit, which is a drastic contrast against his ebony skin. “I said, man, my name is Dr. Secret, not your sir,” he repeats, shifting back around just as he makes a sharp ninety-degree turn with the wheel.
    She and I share a look; I’m positive her thoughts are mimicking mine — Dr. Secret? Really? What have we gotten ourselves into?
    “Are you two on your honeymoon?” he asks, pulling my attention from her.
    “No. Definitely not,” I snap out, not meaning for it to sound as harsh as it does.
    Bristol’s body stiffens and she not-so-subtly scoots away from me, so far that her head is nearly hanging out the window. Shit. I didn’t mean to make her feel bad, but I’m a fucking mess right now. After the flight and then this whole airport fiasco, it’s a wonder I haven’t completely lost my mind. Whoever the hell said the best way to get over a fear of something is to face it head-on needs to be shot in the face. I still can’t believe I let my mom talk me into getting on that fucking plane.
    “We met on the flight, found out we’re staying at the same place, so we decided to catch a ride together,” I explain, a modified version of the truth.
    Dr. Secret catches my eye again through the mirror and lifts his brow. “Well, man, you never know what can happen while you’re on the island,” he chuckles, “especially if you drink the local rum.”
    “The local rum, eh?” Drinking legally is one of the few perks about the trip, even though I partake regularly at home, despite not being twenty-one until the end of next month. The flight attendant hadn’t even bothered checking my ID.
    “Yes, dark rum here makes you strong like bull.”
    I stifle a laugh, glancing over at Bristol, who refuses to look over at me, ignoring our entire conversation as she stares at the open land of nothingness we’re driving through. Even with her face tilted away from me, I’m in awe of her beauty. She’s one of those naturally pretty girls who doesn’t need makeup or fancy clothes to make every guy in a room notice her when she walks in. Hell, the minute she strolled into the gate area at the airport, my eyes were drawn to her, nearly making me forget about the hell I was about to put myself through.
    Her long, wavy dark hair looks soft to touch and perfect to pull, her big, brown eyes remind me of liquid pools of creamy caramel — my absolute favorite food in the world—and from what I can tell, she’s got a smokin’ body with killer legs. My dick twitches at the thought of them wrapped around me. Fuck.
    I