Jason POV:
Fuck. I woke up to the piercing sunlight streaming through my window, my body screaming in protest as I tried to move. It felt like I’d been hit by a truck, courtesy of the coach’s "disciplinary" workout yesterday. My muscles were on fire, and every inch of felt like hell.
Then I checked the ti 8:45 a.m., and my brain instantly went into panic mode. Class started at 9 a.m. — and not just any class, but Professor Matthews’ class.
Great. Just my luck.
Professor Matthews was the one professor who couldn’t care less about who you were outside the classroom. The man was as no-nonsense as they ca. In his own words, he wouldn’t recognize any of us until we "made it in life"—and not because of our family nas, but by proving ourselves.
Honestly, that was one of the reasons I’d decided to start my own company, LBJ. I didn’t want to be seen as just another King, flaunting my surna and coasting off my family’s influence. I wanted to prove him wrong, prove that I wasn’t just so rich kid coasting on my family na. LBJ was my baby, a company I built from the ground up without the King na attached to it. No connections, no shortcuts—just . That’s why I’d kept my identity as LBJ’s CEO a secret—so no one would throw lucrative deals my way simply because of my last na.
But let’s face it: Today, none of that mattered.
Despite all of that motivation, today? Yeah, screw Matthews and his class.
My body still felt like it had been hit by a freight train. Yesterday’s triple punishnt from the coach had left in shambles. Every muscle ached, and my legs protested as I swung them out of bed. Skipping class was looking like a better idea by the second, but...
Ella.
On a normal day, I might’ve dragged myself there, but let’s be real—I just wanted to see Ella.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I wanted to see her. If it weren’t for her, I’d have zero motivation to show up to class today.
A brilliant idea struck as I tossed my phone on the bed and smirked. Why show up when I could use this as an opportunity? Oh, yeah. Perfect plan.
With that thought, I decided: I was skipping today.
I grabbed my phone to call Max and Dylan. Knowing them, they were probably still knocked out, especially after yesterday’s ordeal. Unsurprisingly, neither of the idiots picked up.
"Stupid jerks," I muttered, tossing my phone aside. If they didn’t want to answer, fine. I’d just assu they were skipping too.
Grabbing my phone again, I quickly typed out a ssage to Ella.
:Hey, Ella. Not feeling too great, so I can’t make it to class today. Could you take so good notes for ? I’d really appreciate it.
I hit send, already feeling a little smug. It wasn’t too pushy, but it was enough to start a conversation—or at least get her thinking about .
Waiting was absolute torture. Every ti my phone buzzed, I’d snatch it up, heart racing, only to realize it was sothing stupid—a spam email, a weather alert, or Max ranting in our group chat about missing Matthews’ class. Big deal, Max, I thought, ignoring his angry texts about how the professor had assigned so huge project. Dylan wasn’t much better, grumbling about how we were "screwed."
But honestly? I didn’t care. It was Friday, and we didn’t have any other classes. No point in driving to campus just to kill ti. My plan for the day was simple: chill until practice at 4 p.m. This ti, I wasn’t going to be late. An angry coach ant another round of hell, and my body couldn’t handle that again.
The only thing I was worried about was Ella. I kept checking my phone every ten minutes, waiting for her reply. By the ti her ssage finally ca, it was right before practice. My heart leaped as I opened it, already imagining what she might’ve said.
But what I read? Not exactly what I was hoping for.
Ella:"Fuck off. Ask soone else."
I stared at the screen for a mont, trying to decide whether to laugh or groan. Classic Ella. Of course, she’d shoot down with zero hesitation. She wasn’t the type to sugarcoat things or go easy on anyone—especially not .
I couldn’t even be mad, though. If anything, I’d didn’t put past her. Most girls would’ve jumped at the chance to help , but not Ella. She wasn’t impressed by titles, charm, or persistence. If I wanted to win her over, I’d have to play the long ga.
With a smirk, I pocketed my phone and grabbed my stuff for practice. Her words echoed in my head as I walked out the door.
"Fuck off."
Nope not goner happen
Practice was brutal as always, but I powered through it, driven by sothing more than just the coach’s yelling. My body ached like hell, but I didn’t care. I had a plan—a surprise study date with Ella. Okay, so she wasn’t exactly aware of it yet, but that was just a minor detail.
After practice, Max and Dylan were in their usual moods, debating whether to hit the diner. They always dragged along, and normally, I wouldn’t argue, but not tonight.
"Hey, you coming?" Max asked, tossing his bag over his shoulder.
"Nah," I said, keeping it casual. "Got stuff to do."
"Stuff? What kind of ’stuff’?" Dylan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just stuff," I said, not offering more.
They gave a suspicious look but didn’t press further. As they headed toward their cars, Max muttered sothing about being no fun anymore. I smirked, watching them drive off toward the diner like they always did.
With them out of the way, I headed ho. I didn’t bother showering at the gym—there wasn’t ti. Instead, I raced into my place, took my ti in the shower, making sure every trace of sweat from practice was gone. Ella wasn’t the type to miss little details, and there was no way I’d let her complain that I reeked of effort and desperation—not tonight.
Practice had ended late, around 7:30 PM, and I knew her shift at the diner on Fridays usually wrapped up around 9:00 PM. That left roughly an hour and a half. Just enough ti to clean up, prep, and get there before she headed ho.
As I rinsed off, I ran through the plan in my head. Play it cool. No pushing, no overwhelming her like I usually did. Just casual—well, as casual as showing up uninvited to her place could be.
I quickly dried off, threw on a clean, dark hoodie, and paired it with so jeans. Simple, but enough to look like I didn’t just stumble off the basketball court. My hair? A quick run-through with my fingers; no need to overdo it.
My phone buzzed on the counter, but I ignored it. Whatever it was, it could wait.
I glanced at the clock. 8:05 PM.
The nerves kicked in. What if she wasn’t in the mood? What if she slamd the door in my face? Or worse—what if she ignored completely?
I shook it off. Ella was unpredictable, but that only made her more interesting. Besides, I wasn’t about to back down now.
Then ca the tricky part: gathering everything for the "study date." I grabbed a textbook, so notebooks, and a couple of pens. Did I know if we had an actual assignnt? Nope. But it wasn’t about the studying—it was about spending ti with her.
Next, I packed so snacks—nothing too fancy, just enough to make it look like I’d thought this through. And for the final touch, I grabbed my phone and sent her a text:
:Hey, mind if I co over? Need to catch up on what I missed in class.
This ti, I wasn’t about to wait around for a reply. I already knew how it would go—Ella would outright turn down with her usual sass, probably tell to "get lost" or "go bother soone else." So, I decided to skip the whole back-and-forth nonsense.
Now, was I actually behind in class? No. Did I care? Also no. This was about Ella, and I wasn’t going to waste the chance to see her again.
And then I hit send before I could overthink it.
Cheeky? Absolutely. But what could she do? Ignore it? By the ti she saw the ssage, I’d already be outside her place, notebook in hand. Plausible deniability—classic Jason move. If she called out, I could always say, "But I told you beforehand, didn’t I?"
With everything ready, I hopped into my car, heart pounding. Would she say yes? Probably not. Would I show up anyway? Absolutely.
I smirked to myself as I started the car. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do. Ella could be stubborn as hell, but so was I. Besides, she couldn’t avoid forever... right?
This was going to be the start of sothing—if I didn’t completely screw it up.
User Comments
0 comments from readers