Jocks & Cheerleaders

By Tess Dacre

Jock hates maths, doesn’t play sport and loves music. Angel is a maths genius and ex-cheerleader. Both are so hurt that for a time it looks as if they won’t get past it. Add in two sets of twins and a hospitable married couple, and the stage is set for a cracking romance.
He was late. He hated being late. It was maths, and he hated maths. The engineering subjects he loved, particularly the practicals. He’d been good at maths at school, but this esoteric stuff on fluid flows he just couldn’t get the hang of at all. He hurried down the corridor, knocked on the door and slipped in muttering an apology. He looked blindly around and at first couldn’t see a seat. Then he spotted one near the back, and his breath caught in his throat. He was sure the person occupying the other seat at the table was an angel. Translucent skin with a dusting of freckles over the sculpted nose. Full lips. Delicately delineated eyebrows over piercing green eyes. And a cascade of wavy chestnut hair.
She was bored. She loved maths. But this lecture was going over old ground. Then there was a tentative knock on the door, and one of her most hated species came into the room. To be fair, he did seem embarrassed that he was late and muttered an apology. His face flamed as he searched blindly for a seat. To her surprise she felt a twinge of sympathy, knowing how difficult it is to see things when under pressure. She saw he had spotted the empty seat, and his eyes widened with a reaction that she had come to hate. As he headed to the seat beside her, she cursed the absence of her maths buddy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tess Dacre
• Release date: Nov 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301441433

Tess Dacre

I love to read. One day I found I was bored with reading, and thought "why not give writing a try?" Now I love to write too. I've done some, and it's given me a huge admiration for those who write full length books. My imagination and tenacity gives out at about 25,000 words! I've garnered some lovely comments on my writing. Thank you all. I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I've enjoyed writing them. If you did, please review. Thank you.

Book preview

Jocks & Cheerleaders

By Tess Dacre

Copyright 2009 - 2012 Tess Dacre

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover photo credit: studio.es / Foter / CC BY-SA

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Chapter 1 - Maths

He was late. He hated being late. It was maths, and he hated maths. The engineering subjects he loved, particularly the practicals. He’d been good at maths at school, but this esoteric stuff on fluid flows he just couldn’t get the hang of at all. He hurried down the corridor, knocked on the door and slipped in muttering an apology. He looked blindly around and at first couldn’t see a seat. Then he spotted one near the back, and his breath caught in his throat. He was sure the person occupying the other seat at the table was an angel. Translucent skin with a dusting of freckles over the sculpted nose. Full lips. Delicately delineated eyebrows over piercing green eyes. And a cascade of wavy chestnut hair.

She was bored. She loved maths. But this lecture was going over old ground. Then there was a tentative knock on the door, and one of her most hated species came into the room. To be fair, he did seem embarrassed that he was late and muttered an apology. His face flamed as he searched blindly for a seat. To her surprise she felt a twinge of sympathy, knowing how difficult it is to see things when under pressure. She saw he had spotted the empty seat, and his eyes widened with a reaction that she had come to hate. As he headed to the seat beside her, she cursed the absence of her maths buddy.

He sensed the negative vibes coming off the girl with the face of an angel. He did his best not to succumb to the urge to glance at her face and fill his eyes with her beauty. And he tried not to sit too close. He had to admit she was distracting him from the maths. And boy was today’s lecture trying. He knew he needed to understand, but it was just so difficult. He sighed again and bent to his books, noticing that she was jotting a few notes but mostly doodling and looking around. That made him pause for thought. Maybe it wasn’t just that he was sitting there that was making her annoyed. Maybe she was like the others, a bit of an air head and couldn’t do the maths either. He was puzzled. He shrugged his shoulders and dragged his attention back to the maths.

She was puzzled too, by his frequent sighs. She took a surreptitious look at his book, and her lip curled in disdain. Yep, he was a typical jock without a hope of understanding this level of maths. His notes showed that he’d missed crucial steps, misunderstood others, and was up a blind alley. She couldn’t help grinning as he sighed again. She was delighted with the thought that he’d fail this paper even if he was a miracle at sport.

He castigated himself for being distracted by a pretty face. He kept pulling himself up and willing himself to concentrate on the maths. He kept reminding himself why he didn’t want to go there. I won’t speak to her. I won’t. He reminded himself continually. And went back to the hopeless task of following a lecture he’d lost track of long ago. As the lecture ended, he turned to her, was stunned again by her face, and much to his chagrin couldn’t stop himself opening his mouth:

I see you shared my difficulty with the maths.

She laughed contemptuously at him, and