I haven’t seen much of Nathan or Zeke. They both stayed back at the cabin today. Nathan was still sleeping when we left, and Zeke opted out so someone else could go on the boat.
I set the alarm on my phone for thirty minutes before the agreed meetup time and climb into bed fully clothed. I’m about to turn on my sleeping playlist when I remember Zeke said he’d made a new one for me.
I’m humming with anticipation as I scroll through Zeke’s playlists, skimming titles for one that might be new, uncertain what I’m looking for exactly but hoping I’ll know it when I see it. As it turns out, I do. At the very bottom of the list is one I’ve never seen before and his labeling makes it clear this one is for me. For Gabby. Concise and to the point.
When I open my playlist, my gaze snags on the sub-title, You’re beautiful on the outside too. My heart is pounding as I scan the list of songs. Each one has the word beautiful, sexy, hot, gorgeous, and my personal favorite, bootylicious, in the title.
When I press play and Snoop Dogg’s “Beautiful” plays, I laugh and sigh and swoon all at the same time. It’s the nicest and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. And wait, Zeke thinks I’m beautiful? I don’t play it cool for even a second as I open my texts and send him a message to verify the new information.
Me: You think I’m beautiful?
He doesn’t respond until the fourth song is playing and I’m hanging on every word of “Beautiful” by Bazzi like Zeke is singing it to me himself.
Zeke: Found the playlist, huh?
Zeke: Yes, Gabby, I think you’re beautiful.
I give a little squeal and then remember he’s staying in the same cabin and quite possibly within hearing distance.
Me: What are you doing right now?
Zeke: At the driving range with some of the guys.
Me: Are you going out tonight?
Zeke: Yes. It’s non-negotiable fun according to Joel.
Zeke: What are you up to?
Me: Getting ready to nap and listening to my playlist.
Zeke: Enjoy, beautiful girl
18
Zeke
Nathan takes a cut, his ball hooks to the left, and he swears under his breath.
“Think that haircut took your chill ‘tude with it,” Wes says.
“I can’t believe you cut your hair just to get friend-zoned.” Shaw chuckles as he steps up to the tee, pulling his driver cold like he knows what he’s doing.
“Yeah, well how was I supposed to know Zebby was real.”
My head snaps up at one of the many couple names Joel has been trying out in reference to me and Gabby. “What?”
Nathan shoves his golf club into the bag and stalks off toward the clubhouse without answering.
“Did I miss something?” I ask and look to the guys.
Wes lets out a sigh. “He likes Gabby and I think he might be a little pissed with all the attention Gake or Zebby, or whatever your couple name is, getting after you posted that photo last night.”
“Shit. I had no idea.”
“He’ll get over it.” Shaw dismisses it with a wave of his hand and takes a generous swing, shanking the ball.
I go after Nathan, not entirely sure what I’m going to say or do when I catch him. He finds his words before I do. “Let me guess, you had no idea and you’re sorry?”
I falter. “I didn’t and I am.”
His jaw tightens as the bartender slides a beer in front of him. “Can I get one of those too?” I ask and place enough cash on the bar to cover both drinks.
We sit in silence until I’ve got my beer in hand.
“Sorry, man, I really didn’t know.”
He stares at me with hurt and anger flashing in his blue eyes. “Yeah, I know. You never do. You’ve got big things on the horizon and you’re laser-focused. We all know, man. It’s the same excuse every time you skip out on a party or forget someone’s birthday. ‘That’s just Z, he’s going to the NBA.’ Like that gives you a pass for not giving a shit about anyone but yourself.”
“Not give a shit? I’ve saved your ass more times than I can count. Carried you home when you were too wasted to walk, stopped you from going postal in the middle of the night. Don’t tell me I haven’t been there.”
His eyes flare and he takes another swallow of his beer and then stands. “Gabby is a cool chick and she and I were probably never going to happen anyway, but if you break her heart, I will not hesitate to punch you in the face. I don’t care how many times you think you’ve saved my ass.”
* * *
By the time we get to the bar later that night, Nathan’s mood seems to have bounced back. Mine has not. The more I think about what he said, the more I wonder if he’s right.
Gabby springs toward where I sit at the outside bar. It’s a huge place with three bars in total. One outside, and two inside on each of the two levels.
“Come with us upstairs,” she urges, looping her arm through Nathan’s. “There’s a dance floor that overlooks the water.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on.” Her voice pleads and I look to Nathan hoping he’ll give me some sign what to do.
He stops a waitress carrying a tray of shots and gets three, handing one to Gabby and then me in some sort of alcoholic peace offering.
“To the last hurrah before graduation,” he says, lifting his, and Gabby and I follow suit.
I nod my thanks. “To the last hurrah.”
An excited Gabby leads the way upstairs where, sure enough, the music is even louder, and people are dancing on a balcony that overlooks the stage outside and the water just beyond. Shaw and Cannon are chatting up some girls near the bar.
Once I follow Gabby to the dance floor, I look back to see Nathan has gone off to join them, leaving us alone. But not for long because Gabby spots Wes, Joel, and Mario and of course their girlfriends and dances toward them. Flashbacks to the night of the foam party where we had this very same setup come to mind.
Mario leans in but still has to shout to be heard over the music. “Heard you went skinny dipping last night.”
I nod. “Guess I did.”
“What are you two up to tonight and should I alert the paparazzi? Some naked photos of you might be just the boost you need to get that top draft spot.”
“Fuck off,” I say but nudge him playfully.
To be honest, I hadn’t given the other items on her list any more thought, but at the mention of it, I move to Gabby and pull her to me so we’re dancing together. Well, she dances, and I just sort of exist in front of her. “What item are we crossing off the list tonight?”
I panic when her eyes widen. Shit, she probably thinks I’m angling for sex. I should have phrased that differently. Although, now that I’ve thought of sex, there’s no erasing it from my mind.
“What about dance-off or food fight?” I offer coming up with the most PG items I can off the top of my head.
“Those aren’t on my list.”
“Maybe they’re on mine,” I say and do some sort of ridiculous dance move that I’ve seen Joel do when he’s drunk and looking for attention. Suffice to say I’ve seen it a lot.
Soon we’re trading bad dance moves and I’m grinning like an idiot. So is she. We’ve garnered a crowd who cheers for us both, but they’re definitely more on her side, so I toss in the towel and bow down to her, giving her the win.
“Come on, dancing queen, I need a drink after that.”
She places her hand in mine and I weave through the crowd to the bar where I order us both water.
“Killer dance moves, my man,” the bartender says, winks, and puts two shots in front of us with the water. “On the house.”
I give him my thanks as Gabby laughs beside me.
“What are you laughing at?”
“You,” she says. “I’m pretty sure that bartender was hitting on you and you didn’t even realize it.”
“He was?”
She nods several times. “I’ve been up to this bar
a dozen times tonight and he hasn’t so much as glanced my way. Then you show up and he’s offering free drinks and winks to go.”
“Must be my dance moves.”
She laughs softly. “Must be.”
We take the shot and drink our water as we catch our breath and crowd watch. People just keep piling into the place, making it feel a little claustrophobic. Gabby’s head starts to pop up, standing on her tiptoes to see over the crowd in different directions.
“Who are you looking for?”
“No one. I was trying to see if there was a restroom up here.”
My height makes it easy to see over the crowd. I nod to the back right corner. “Come on. I’ll clear the way.”
Even for me, it’s a tough push. Large groups are trying not to lose one another by holding hands, creating a fence of people. I can feel Gabby sticking close, a hand at my back. At five paces away, she lurches forward and her hands grapple at my side as she tries to keep herself upright. I turn in time to see the two guys, more drunk and obnoxious than the rest, that bumped into her.
“Watch where you’re going.” I growl as I bend down to help Gabby get to her feet. She rubs at her elbow, which must have taken the brunt of her fall.
One of the assholes looks slightly remorseful as he offers his help, but when his gaze sweeps Gabby’s body and then stops on the left side of her face, he snickers and mumbles, “Butterface.”
Gabby tenses under my hold and immediately ducks her head, embarrassment clouding her features.
I’ve never understood the expression, seeing red, until now. “What the hell did you say?”
He turns away and I want to follow him and punch him so hard and so many times he rues the day he learned such a dick word, but Gabby is shuffling as quickly as she can in the opposite direction, squeezing her little body between cracks in the crowd that only her tiny form could fit through. I shove people out of my way until I reach her.
“Hey, wait.” I wrap a hand around her wrist, and she turns to me, tears in her eyes. I pull her the rest of the way until she’s leaning against the back wall outside of the restrooms, shielding her from seeing or hearing anything but me.
“That guy’s an idiot.” I wipe a tear with my thumb. Her lip quivers and she refuses to meet my gaze, so I tip her chin up with a hand. When her greenish-blue eyes finally look into mine like she’s waiting for me to erase the bad by saying all the things she wants to believe about herself instead, my chest gets tight. “Beautiful,” I croon out the word, not sounding the least like Pharrell.
Her lips tip up though encouraging me to continue the verse. I’m trying to hear the rest of the song in my head to remember what comes next when her hands come up to rest on my chest and she pushes onto her tiptoes, pressing her lips to my cheek. It’s soft and unsure. Sweet and surprising and all the things inherently good about Gabby.
When she pulls back, my lips tingle with need to reciprocate, to show her exactly how beautiful I think she is. Instead, I nod to the ladies’ room. “I’ll wait here and then we can get back out there and show off our killer dance moves again.”
She smiles, though it’s small and doesn’t reach her eyes and a fresh desire to hunt down the asshole that made her upset makes me ball my hands into fists. “I just want to go home.”
19
Gabby
Sunday evening, Blair is still hanging around my apartment. After we left the club last night, she took one look at me and demanded answers. She hasn’t left my side since. She even slept in my room at the cabin, leaving Wes sad-faced and completely cock blocked.
“I’m fine. Seriously. Go study. I know you have a test tomorrow.”
She still doesn’t budge.
Making an X over my heart, I say, “Cross my heart. I’m really okay. It happened. It’s happened before. It’s probably going to happen again. I’m okay.”
“Why don’t you come with me to The White House? The guys usually have movie nights on Sunday, so you can hang with them while Wes and I study.”
“And make out.”
“I don’t have time for making out. Well, not much time. Come on.” She sticks out her bottom lip in a pout.
“Fine, fine. It beats sitting here by myself. Can you bring me back after or are you staying at Wes’ tonight?”
“Probably staying, but I can drop you off later.”
The White House is the quietest I’ve ever heard it. Wes is waiting in the TV room with bags of takeout, books spread out on chairs and he’s wearing the reading glasses I know Blair likes so much. The way her eyes light up at seeing her boyfriend… yep, no way I’m going in there.
“Where is everyone? I thought it was movie night.”
“Joel is at Katrina’s house and I think Nathan went to the dorms. Zeke’s upstairs.”
“Then that’s where I’ll be,” I say to the room. Wes and Blair either don’t hear me or just don’t answer.
On the way up the stairs to the second level, I can hear a basketball bouncing off the gym floor.
The door closes loudly behind me and Zeke looks up to see who has intruded on his space. “Back at it, I see.”
“Hey. What are you doing here?” His smile stretches wide and some of the nerves I had about seeing him fall away.
“I came with Blair. She and Wes are studying downstairs.” I take a seat on the sidelines, prop my back up against the wall, and pull out my craft thread to make a new bracelet. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to bother you. I just didn’t want to be the third wheel.”
He dribbles the ball over to me and I get a good look at him shirtless and glistening with sweat. The ball in his giant hands eases his features and relaxes his shoulders. I’ve seen it before, but it still amazes me the way he physically changes when he’s holding a basketball. He looks younger and happier. Dare I say carefree even.
“On second thought.” I push to my feet. “Can you help me dunk? I’ve always wanted to, but you know.” I motion in front of all five foot four inches of me.
A playful smirk tips up one side of his mouth. “Yeah, alright.” He squats down and motions for me to move behind him. “Grab my shoulders and use my leg as a step.”
I do as instructed, and he links his arm around my leg balancing me as I lift the other one up and then miraculously I’m on his shoulders. “Woah, don’t drop me, it’s a long way down. When you fall, does your body hit the ground at triple speed because of the distance?”
He chuckles and passes the basketball up to me. We move under the basket. Well, technically I’m eye level with it. “Bend down a little. I want to dunk it not drop it through the net.”
I feel his head shake side to side, but he bends down a couple inches.
“Any advice?” I roll the weight of the ball from one palm to the other.
“Don’t miss.”
I roll my eyes, lift the ball above the rim and bring it down through the net, grabbing on to the rim for good measure.
“Nice,” Zeke says, and he moves to rebound the ball and hands it back to me. “Now this time, do it like you mean it.”
I get three or four dunks in, gaining a little more confidence each time, before Zeke lifts me off his shoulders. “My turn.”
I’ve seen Zeke dunk before, but the tease in his eye and the cocky way he moves as he performs dunks that are more show than practical, is a new brand of hot I didn’t realize I was into.
When he finishes showing off, he’s out of breath but smiling bigger than I’ve ever seen and I don’t even care that the smile may be due to some sort of hard wood and leather basketball combination high, I’m just glad to witness it.
“How ya doing? I didn’t get a chance to see you before we left this morning.” Zeke and I were in separate cars coming back from the lake. A day without seeing him has not made me feel any less humiliated that he was there to witness such an awful incident.
“Good.”
His stare tells me he was looking for more than a pacifying answer.
“I
’m good,” I say again, but I smile reassuringly this time. “Thank you, again, for last night.”
“Nothing to thank me for. I’m glad I was there. I’m gonna grab a quick shower and watch a movie or something if you wanna join.”
“Can I pick the movie?”
He raises one eyebrow. “No Nicholas Sparks anything.”
He hesitates like he’s trying to think of more items to add to the ‘will not watch list’ but doesn’t come up with anything before I say, “Deal.”
Sitting on Zeke’s bed, I scan through the options while he showers. My phone pings with a text.
Mom: How are you? Just checking in. We haven’t heard from you in a week. Call soon. Love, Mom.
I snicker at the way she signs her text.
Me: Things are great. Don’t worry. I’ll call tomorrow. Xo
Bless her heart, I know my mother is trying to give me space now that I’m living on my own, but when I go a few days without calling, she imagines the worst. I’m sympathetic to her need to know I’m safe, but if I checked in as often as she wanted me to it’d be too much like I was still living at home.
Zeke reappears smelling divine like soap and just… Zeke. He’s left his shirt off and only wears a pair of grey sweatpants that sit low on his hips.
He runs a hand over his head. “What did you find?”
I’m silent too long, staring at the wall of muscle greedily when he calls my name.
“Yeah, sorry, I got distracted texting my mom.”
He sits on the edge of the bed and I scoot over to make more room for him. We settle on a movie and then stretch out next to each other to watch.
The Tip-Off: A Smart Jocks Novel Page 10