Pregnant With The Douchebag Jock novel Chapter 2

Ellie

It’s late. I should’ve gone home an hour ago.

But I’m still here, stuck in the library, pretending to work.

Spoiler? I’m not.

My nerves are fried, and it’s all because of one person.

Maddoc.

He’s sitting way too close, finishing the last slice of pizza like he hasn’t eaten in days. His chair is practically glued to mine. I can literally feel the heat coming off him. Does he not understand what personal space means?

Why is he always so up in my bubble?

I glance at the clock and sigh. I should feel relieved that I get to go home soon, but all I feel is pressure. The project’s barely started, and he’s done absolutely nothing.

Why did I get stuck with him? He is ruining my game!

Wait.

Game?

Now I’m thinking in his weird terms! “Game”? “Capish”? Ugh.

“You having another silent convo with yourself?” Maddoc asks, casually peeling a banana like we’re in a sitcom.

I don’t look at him. “I’m not talking to myself.”

“Sure you’re not.”

“I mean it.”

He takes a loud bite, chewing like it’s his personal mission to annoy me.

He’s definitely doing it on purpose.

Then he hits me with, “I’ve got another question for you.”

Of course he does. “What now?”

“Do all guys freak you out, or is it just me?”

My head snaps up. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, like… why would you say that?”

He shrugs. “You were chill with the librarian, but when that group of high school dudes walked by? You looked like you were gonna crawl under the table.”

Wow. Okay.

I look away, stammering. “Th-that’s not something you should make fun of.”

“I’m not making fun. I’m asking.”

Why does he talk like this is some normal thing? Like he can just question people and get away with it?

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I mumble.

“Did something happen?”

Doesn’t he have regard for other people?

“D-drop it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not your business.”

He narrows his eyes. “That defensiveness usually means something did happen.”

Ugh. “Why do you even care?”

He shrugs again. “I don’t. I just don’t get why you look ready to pass out every time I raise my voice.”

I glare at him. “Maybe because you do yell. And you’re huge. And rude.”

He laughs. Loud and unapologetic. “You think I’m rude?”

“You’re not exactly friendly.”

He leans in, lowering his voice. “Maybe I don’t like being ignored.”

God, he’s insufferable.

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