Me: With the rookies? No thanks.
Gabby: Fun hater. We could get another picture for your adoring Insta fans.
A few minutes later, another text comes in.
Gabby: Are you on your way know?
Gabby: Shit. Nowe
Gabby: Uggggghhhh
Gabby: NOW
Me: You’re not driving, right?
Gabby: Nope.
Me: How are you getting home?
Gabby: I’ll catch a ride back with one of the guys.
She doesn’t text again, and I lay back on my bed listening to music and tossing a ball into the air, wondering if she’s gonna be okay with my rookie teammates. I can almost see Blair’s pleading eyes to watch out for her friend.
I put the ball down, stand, and take the six steps necessary to get to Nathan’s room. He’s still passed out on the bed in the same position I put him in. I don’t get it.
Partying with friends, letting loose, I get. But this? This doesn’t look like fun; it looks like something else entirely.
“Back later, buddy,” I say to the silence.
Prickly Pear is as dead as the rest of the town, though Gabby and the guys would be easy to spot even if it were packed. Somehow, she’s got all four of them on their feet and dancing on the small makeshift dance floor. Dancing badly. Real badly. Gabby doesn’t seem to mind, the girl is all smiles.
With a nod to the bartender, I take off in their direction. When Gabby sees me, her lips pull apart and her smile grows wider. She launches herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck and pressing our bodies together in the process. She’s like a mini-tornado, but she feels like a welcome disturbance to my steady routine.
“You actually came!” she says when she pulls back.
“Look at you,” Shaw says. “Want a beer?”
When I accept, Shaw and Datson lead me to their table and a glass is thrust in front of me and filled. I don’t drink much, even in the offseason, so the guys are grinning like I’m about to do something really crazy by having one beer.
“I think Cannon is in love.” I follow Datson’s line of vision to the dance floor where Gabby and Cannon have spread out using the entire space for some big dance moves that are earning laughs and strange looks from everyone in the bar.
“I think he’s not the only one,” Shaw says. “I finally figured out what it takes to get you out of the house.” Shaw raises his eyebrows and nods toward Gabby. “Not that I can blame you. She’s the hottest girl here. Hottest girl at Valley, probably, at least from the right side.”
I say nothing, though his remark about her scars pisses me off. I take another drink and do my best to keep my eyes anywhere but on Gabby. She’s doing some sort of moonwalk spin move combo so not watching isn’t an easy feat.
“You gonna deny it?” Shaw presses.
Damn, I wish I had my headphones so I could drown him out.
“Of course not. Gabby’s beautiful. I’m not blind.”
“Just celibate,” Datson pipes in.
“Is it a voluntary celibacy or have you just been spending too much time around Wes and Joel?”
I glare at him, waiting for him to explain what the hell he means. My boys are both in relationships – legit ones that I don’t see ending any time soon.
“Everyone knows you don’t hang around guys with girlfriends. They seem hotter because they’re unobtainable, therefore making you look like a chump.”
I laugh against my better judgment and Shaw’s twisted logic. Though, I can attest that being unobtainable sometimes makes girls a little more interested. Though, usually for all the wrong reasons.
My rule against dating in college has resulted in plenty of unwanted ball honeys trying to prove they were different, special, or just more persistent than the others. The thing with being unobtainable though is it’ll only make a person work harder for so long. When they realize it’s not a game or a front, they lose interest. Or, that’s been my experience. After four years of turning down girls, there are currently zero trying to get in my pants. Not that it matters since I’d turn them away. I haven’t been a total saint, but I’ve been smart enough to hook up with girls who have no idea or just don’t care, who I am.
“Well, if you’re going to just sit here, mind if I make a move?”
“She’s out of your league, rookie.”
I glare at him, but Shaw’s a cocky motherfucker, so he just smiles as he fires back, “Yours too.”
Don’t I know it.
My attention goes back to Gabby. She’s headed our direction, singing along to the music, dancing even as she walks. She stops momentarily and her eyes flutter closed as she loses herself to the beat. Hips sway, long blonde hair tosses from side to side with her ass. She’s a goddamn sight and there’s no way I’m letting these assholes near her. Blair would kill me.
“Damn.” I don’t look over to verify where he’s looking, but since his words echo my thoughts, I assume Shaw’s watching her too. He drains the beer in his hand and scoots his chair back. “Last chance before I move in.”
I place a hand on his shoulder and stand. As I walk away, I hear Shaw’s annoying voice, “Knew you had it in you.”
10
Gabby
“We’re gonna head back to the baseball house.” Shaw approaches the bar where Z and I are sitting huddled together looking through the dozen or more pictures I took trying to show Zeke out having fun with his teammates. He said hell no when I suggested a photo op with the other guys. So instead the pictures are of Zeke by himself trying to act casual and comfortable when he’s obviously anything but. No surprise that we’re struggling to agree on a picture we both like.
“Thanks for letting me crash. I had fun.”
“Any time.” Shaw smiles and moves in for a drunken hug, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing. He’s warm and I can feel his muscles working under the plain white t-shirt. Zeke clears his throat, but Shaw continues to hold me tight for a good three seconds more before he eases his hold on me and looks to Zeke. “Why don’t you guys come back with us? It’s a good night for beers on the patio.”
“No.” “Yes!” Zeke and I say at the same time.
His big pouty lips pull into an adorable frown that isn’t the least bit intimidating. Well, to me. Shaw takes another step back as Z asks, “How are you getting there?”
“Oh, uh.” I look to Shaw for help.
He stares down at his shoes sheepishly. “Can you give us a lift?”
Light brown eyes flit from Shaw to me and his big chest heaves with a sigh. I like him like this – out pretending to have fun, socializing, being coerced into being the sober driver.
“Shotgun,” I call.
* * *
At the baseball house, Zeke parks and gets out of the car with us.
“Look at you!” I exclaim, skipping around the car toward him. “You’re having so much fun you can’t bear to go home yet. Admit it.”
His lips turn up slightly and I loop my arm through his. On the back patio, a couple guys are already sitting around drinking and Shaw makes introductions while Zeke gets me, and surprisingly him, another beer.
There are eight of us in total and we sit around a circle in mismatched lawn chairs. A fire pit in the middle lets off just enough warmth to keep the night chill out of the air. Valley days are hot, but the nights get surprisingly cool.
I’m nursing my beer when I glance over and see Zeke’s eyes are closed. Reaching out with my foot, I nudge his leg and he opens one eye.
“Why don’t you go home and go to bed, old man?” I tease, but my chest tightens with disappointment that he might really leave.
He sits upright. “You ready to go?”
“No, but you obviously are. You can’t even keep your eyes open.”
“Just tired,” he says and runs a hand over his head. It makes the coolest sound as his palm moves back and forth over the short hair.
“So why did you come then?”
“Just looking out
for you. Nathan bailed and I don’t trust these guys to keep you out of trouble.”
“Looking out for me?” I repeat it and mull over his choice of words. It suddenly feels way too hot outside for a fire. “Keep me out of trouble?”
“Yeah, I promised Blair I’d keep an eye on you this week.”
My cheeks flame with embarrassment, and I stand and move into the house draining what’s left of the warm beer in my hand.
Zeke’s loud steps sound behind me. “To be clear, no one forced me to be here tonight or the other night. Blair was just—”
I face off with him, arms crossed over my chest, and he stops talking. “I don’t need a babysitter.” But… lemons meet lemonade. If he wants to be my chaperone, then so be it. “But, since you’re on duty, I need your help.”
He doesn’t move as I ransack the bathroom and return with two rolls of toilet paper. I hold them out and ask, “Any other bathrooms in the house? Upstairs maybe?”
“Stocking up?”
“No, silly, we’re going to TP them.”
He shakes his head and takes a step back. “Uh-uh.”
“Come on. It’ll be awesome.” I stick my bottom lip out, but unsurprisingly Zeke doesn’t react to my adorable pouty expression except to shake his head again.
“Fine. I’ll do it myself.” I march out of the house and to the front. Looking around at the houses and the cars driving by, my nerves arrive to the scene. I make a mental plan, complete with design aesthetic, and am just about to move to action when I hear the front door open and close behind me. The smile on my face can’t be helped.
“Good. I’m going to need your height,” is all I say as I hand him a roll.
“This is a bad idea.”
“Oh, lighten up. It’s just a little toilet paper.”
I lead us to the tallest tree in the yard, a mesquite that’s bent and curved toward the neighbor’s house. “Lift me up.”
I expect more excuses when his hands are suddenly at my hips, lifting me as if I weigh nothing. I falter with the roll in my hand.
“Any day now.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit.
My body is hoisted higher and then my ass makes contact with his shoulder.
“Unroll it a bit.” I do as he instructs, and he nods. “That’s it. Now hold the free end and toss the roll.”
I’m frozen, feeling unsure. Maybe he was right. This might be a terrible idea.
“If anyone asks, I’m denying I had anything to do with this.” He lets his roll go and it sails through the air in a perfect arc around one of the highest branches and then comes down the other side as my laughter echoes into the night.
* * *
Zeke
It takes her three tries to get the toilet paper around the tree. Her aim and power are god awful, but the giggle and smile that accompany her efforts make a perfect beeline to the left side of my chest.
She’s reckless and naïve. So desperate to make a mark on the world she doesn’t realize she already has. Everybody likes her. The guys think she’s hot, of course, but it’s nothing as shallow as her looks – it’s just her.
Gabby squeals and then covers her mouth to keep quiet.
“You’re going to draw attention to us,” I whisper.
I’m not really afraid of getting caught. The baseball guys aren’t going to stumble on us unless someone makes a beer run and every house on this street is occupied by college kids. Still, I play along because that’s what Gabby is really after with this prank. She wants to feel the adrenaline and rush of doing something sneaky and wrong. The girl couldn’t be on the other side of right. I don’t think it’s in her to be anything but pure and good.
“One more good throw. Aim high.”
Focused, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and cranks her arm back. When she lets it go, the toilet paper meets its mark and the last of the roll unravels.
Lifting her arms in victory, the shift in weight momentarily causes me to lose my grip and we both overcorrect at the same time. Her body slides down until we’re chest to chest. Hers rises and falls, eyes gleaming in the moonlight with mischief and excitement. I’m frozen, body tensed and heart battering in my chest like I finished a workout.
“Now what?” she rasps.
Her words bring me back to reality and I set her on the ground. We step back and eye our handiwork.
“We go back inside and pretend to be shocked when someone notices.”
The guys barely glance in our direction as we rejoin them. They’re deep in sports talk, which might normally interest me, but the grin that Gabby can’t keep off her face keeps pulling me to look at her. She’s chomping at the bit for them to find out.
I lean over and whisper, “Want me to make an excuse to leave and come back so I can stumble upon our handiwork all surprised-like?”
Her eyes get big with possibility and I’m wondering when exactly I went from keeping an eye out for her to being a co-conspirator, when Stephens – the catcher for the baseball team – waddles out onto the patio, pants down to his ankles, holding a towel around his waist.
“What the—” Shaw asks, seeing him before the rest of the guys.
Stephen’s eyes are wide with panic and mistrust. “Dude. Who the fuck took all the toilet paper?”
11
Gabby
“I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself entertained for a week.”
Blair’s sunburnt face looks remorseful as I deliver the beginning line of my rehearsed guilt trip.
“I know, I’m sorry. I just felt bad I was leaving you. You haven’t gone out much by yourself yet.”
The truth is I haven’t gone out by myself at all until she left for the week, but I’m glad she softened the blow. The rest of my rebuttal falls silent because I know Blair had good intentions and I could never stay mad at her. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.
“I forgive you, but no more setting up babysitters for me. I left two overprotective parents at home; I don’t need another.”
“Deal.” She leans back in a beach chair and the sound of the wind whipping around her makes her next line hard to hear. “So, what have you been up to this week?”
“Work, mostly, and hanging out with Nathan. Oh, and I convinced Zeke to help me TP the baseball house.”
“Where do you come up with these things? And also, really? Zeke did that?”
I smile, picturing the gleam in his eye as we tossed the toilet paper rolls up into the tree. He was having fun. I doubt he’d admit it, but I saw it.
“It really didn’t take a lot of convincing. I just told him I was doing it with or without him. Actually, I have you to thank. You told him to look out for me and in true Zeke fashion, he’s given it more dedication than necessary. Especially since you asked. Everyone knows he likes you better than anyone else.”
She rolls her eyes, but her smile is pleased. “Well, go easy on him.”
“No way,” I say with a laugh. “If he wants to act as my protector then I’ve got plenty of items on my list that I could use back up for.”
“Oh God, I’ve created a monster.”
Wes appears on screen, dropping a kiss to Blair’s forehead and settling into the chair next to her. “Hey, Gabby.”
“Hello.” I wave at my best friend’s boyfriend. They’re too cute together.
“Heard you left Stephens in quite the predicament last night.”
My cheeks burn with a mixture of pride and embarrassment for poor Stephens. Blair shoots Wes a confused glance and he fills her in.
“Noooo!” Her eyes go wide as he gets to the end of the story, which he recites with surprising accuracy considering he heard it secondhand. “How did they know it was you?”
“You know I have a terrible poker face.”
She nods. “You really do.”
“Anyway, Zeke and I had to make an emergency run to the store for toilet paper and beer. I probably have to steer clear of the baseball house for a few days. G
ood thing Stephens graduates this year. I’m permanently on his shit list.”
Wes chuckles. “Shit list.”
* * *
I head to the Valley student workout facility, which is conveniently located in Ray Fieldhouse – the same facility all the student-athletes use. They have their own fancier, from what I’m told, workout room, but there’s always jocks roaming around the building, so it’s extra motivation to hit the gym a few times a week.
After the accident, I had to do a lot of therapy – physical and mental – and keeping up with it has become an important part of my progress.
Today I’m here for another reason and it has to do with progressing my social health. I need to get out more – meet new people and not rely on Blair and her social circle. Don’t get me wrong, I love hanging with her crowd, but aside from Nathan, they don’t feel like my friends yet.
With Nathan on my mind, I decide to check in with him as I warm up on the stair stepper.
Me: Hey, party animal, you alive?
Nathan: Barely. Sorry about last night. Heard you had fun though.
Me: You’re forgiven, but you owe me.
Nathan: Done. What are you doing today?
Me: Working tonight.
Nathan: Cool. Wanna hang after?
Me: Maybe. I’ll text you when I get off and see if you’re awake.
Nathan: I’ll be awake.
The Tip-Off: A Smart Jocks Novel Page 6