25
Zeke
“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting the Harder Award?” She hefts the trophy in one hand.
“Harper Award.”
“Same difference.” Gabby places the trophy down on the little table between us. “Seriously. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug and lift my drink to my mouth, take a long swallow of the potent liquor before I respond. “It’s not a big deal. Besides, would you have known what I was talking about if I’d told you?”
“Point made.” She stares at me with a look I can’t decipher. “I would have come with you even if you’d been getting an award for worst player of the year, you know that, right?”
“I do know that.” I step around the table in two strides, finally able to focus only on her. Ever since I walked into her apartment, I’ve been playing out the night in my head like a Choose Your Own Adventure novel. If I touch her hand, will she shiver at my touch? If I kiss her, will I be able to stop? If I don’t make a move soon, will my dick actually fall off from the perpetual blue balls?
“You’re stunning in that dress. Scratch that, you’re stunning. The dress is just along for the ride.” The smile she flashes at me is all the recognition and trophy I need tonight.
“You clean up nice yourself. Not too late to consider a change in career.” She runs a hand over the lapel of my jacket. “Something that requires you to dress like this more often. Investment banker, attorney, reporter—”
“Male model.”
She lifts her hands up to her face and peers at me through a rectangle she makes with her fingers. “Work your angles. Smize. Yeah, like that. Now take it off. Sloowly.”
“You’re a little too good at that.”
“I watched every season of America’s Next Top Model.”
“Never heard of it.”
She makes an exaggerated gasp. “Tyra Banks? Nigel Barker? Well, we must rectify this situation. Grab your golden statue, honey, we’ve got to get home and watch every season naked. Your career depends on it.”
“Always trying to get me naked.” I chuckle and step closer. “What would you do with me if you did?”
Her blue-green eyes widen, and she watches my fingers with rapt attention as I move them to her cheek and push her hair on the left side of her face back giving me a better view of her.
“Whipped cream bikini, pillow fight, naked wrestling, maybe we could stop by the store and get one of those kiddie pools and fill it with Jell-O.”
I open my mouth to speak, close it, open it... I’ve got nothing.
“You should see your face.” She laughs and then fixes her features back into a stoic expression. “But seriously.”
“Life with you is never boring, is it?”
She shrugs and a little bit of her mask slips. I’d always thought of Gabby hiding behind her hair to cover her external scars, but maybe her words hide the ones I can’t see. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
“Your penis? Because if you’re not about to get naked, I’m going to be sorely disappointed.”
I’m shaking my head as we step away from the party, the voices and the laughter becoming distant noise as we get farther away. Being with Gabby is like wearing my headphones except instead of music drowning out the noise, it’s her making everything else fade to the background.
“Where are we going?” she asks as we enter the darkened hallway.
“Almost there.” I take her hand as I lead the way, navigating the place like I live here. And basically, I have for the last four years. I give a glance over my shoulder to make sure no one sees us. Last thing I need is someone following along.
Gabby looks intrigued, if not a little skeptical about our location. All else fails, I’ll take my dick out and pretend it’s the main attraction. It’s not. On second thought, Gabby might be more excited about that than what I have planned, but this is important for me. I can’t sleep with her, can’t treat being with her as if it’s all part of a list.
Yeah, I’m leaving, and I think she understands that, but I need to know for sure that if we have sex, she’s not going to regret that it was some guy who took off a couple weeks later. You can’t un-ring that bell. She treats it as if it’s as insignificant as doing a beer bong at a party, but deep down, I know it’s important to her.
“Oooh the boy’s locker room,” she croons as I place a palm on the heavy wooden door and give it a push open.
“Here we go.” I flip on the light to my home away from home away from home. The locker room at Valley is well-kept and clean. The lockers are light oak and have double doors. Every player has his own with his name and number displayed on a screen, and in front, a chair for those game-time pep talks. It’s nothing like people expect. They’re probably thinking something keen to their high school locker rooms with rickety metal lockers and a smell that never seems to go away, but they take care of us here at Valley.
“Wow. This is nice.” Gabby turns a circle as she takes in the room. When she sees my name, she walks toward the locker and touches it. My dick twitches, which is weird, right? But I’ve never brought a girl to see my locker before.
“Back here.”
I motion for her to follow me past the lockers to an open area we use to watch game film. I walk around the roadrunner mascot painted on the floor. “Don’t step on Ray or it’s seven seasons of bad luck.”
Propped up against the white screening wall is my number fifty jersey, framed and ready to hang. I stop in front of it.
“Is this your game jersey?”
I nod. “Yeah. They’re retiring it.”
“Zeke, that’s amazing.”
“Thanks. Yeah, I think it’s pretty awesome that I get to leave a little something behind.”
She kneels to look it over for a moment before standing and facing me. “You’re leaving behind more than just a jersey.”
“Yeah, I know. The team did great things this year and our names will be in the record books forever, but this is all mine.”
“I meant friendships, memories. You’ve made some of those, right?”
“Not as many as I should have probably.” It’s hard to regret the past four years because of all that I’ve accomplished, but I’m man enough to admit that I probably could have allowed myself to have a little more fun.
“Not too late,” she says and nudges me playfully.
“Isn’t it?”
“Every passing minute is another chance—”
“To turn it all around,” we finish the Vanilla Sky movie quote together.
She walks to me slowly, or maybe time freezes. Blue-green eyes lock on mine and she runs a tentative hand along the front of my jacket. “What do you say, want to make some memories?”
And then I kiss her.
26
Gabby
When the man makes a move, he makes a freaking move. My lips sting under his crushing kiss and my back finds a wall. What wall? No clue and I don’t care about anything but his next breath. Mine are all his and I give them freely.
I’ve never felt more beautiful as he holds my face in his big hands and feasts on my mouth. It’s sweet and hard and. It. Is. Everything.
Zeke’s broad shoulders flex. Even through the suit jacket, I can feel his muscles doing their thing. And even sexier that that thing they’re doing is making out with me. Zeke’s hands relinquish my face and roam down my sides. His lips release mine and I miss the feel immediately, but when his mouth finds my neck, I forgive the absence.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin and the words tickle my sensitive flesh. “So long… I’ve waited so long to taste you and you’re even sweeter than I imagined.”
I’m swooning at his feet with every word and every touch.
He pulls back and flashes me a devilish grin at the same time his hands disappear under the skirt of my dress. Strong fingers stroke the outside of my legs and ride up until he finds the band of lace. He loops his thumbs through at my hips and slides my panties d
own. I step out of them carefully and he pockets the red scrap of material into his suit jacket.
“A memento?” I barely recognize the raspy voice as my own.
“Just clearing a path.”
“To my vagina?”
“I aim to please.”
“If that were true, you’d already be naked.”
He tsks softly, his mouth so close that I can feel the movement of his lips against my collarbone. He presses flush against me, and I lean into his hard body. Grinding his length so close to my throbbing core, he whispers, “We don’t have time for the naked version. Someone could walk in.”
My legs tremble at the thought of being caught with Zeke in compromising positions. I don’t hate the idea.
“If you’re teasing me, so help me God—”
My idle threat goes unspoken because Zeke’s fingers slide back under my dress and find my center. I laugh out of happiness and surprise and probably delirium. His deep, throaty chuckle follows mine and he stops. A second’s hesitation makes me scared he might pull away.
“Don’t stop or I’ll die of disappointment.” Is the most eloquent thing I can think of, but it does the trick and after another short chuckle he continues.
The orgasm that feels like it’s been building for weeks is so close I’m embarrassed by how little effort it requires before I’m trembling and moaning. I clamp my mouth shut realizing I’m being louder than one probably should while having sneaky locker room sex.
“Don’t get shy on me now,” Zeke says. “Let me hear you.”
I unlock my jaw but still refrain from making a sound until he rubs my clit at a speed that demands to be celebrated with vocal recognition. He speaks through the kiss. “Nobody here but me, beautiful girl. Be as loud as you want.”
With a nod, I ask him to get the fuck back to it – in much nicer words, of course. He hasn’t even broken a sweat when I cry out, saying his name, saying mine, there’s a good chance I speak tongues as Zeke brings me to the magical land of orgasmic paradise, and I make plans to visit regularly.
He holds me steady until I return to reality and regain basic motor function. He smooths down my dress and takes my hand.
“Ready to re-join the party?”
“Do we have to?”
He doesn’t look any more excited about doing so than I am. “Afraid so.” He tucks my hair behind my ear and places a chaste kiss on my lips. He squeezes my hand once before he pulls me toward the door, pushes it open, and holds it for me to walk in front of him.
It’s another three hours before the party is over. Wes and Blair walked home and since Zeke and I both drank more than we should, we take an Uber back to my place.
“Thank you for tonight. I had fun.” The end of the date shouldn’t feel awkward when we’ve already kissed and he’s had his fingers inside me, but my heart races as he walks me to the door.
“Me too. You make everything a helluva lot more fun.”
“Do you want to come in?” I offer. My body is so amped up, begging to be touched by him again.
He shakes his head. “Not tonight.” He steps forward and drops a kiss to my lips. “Goodnight, Gabby.”
27
Zeke
The next few days go something like this: eat tiny portioned meal that tastes like cardboard, finish said meal still hungry, workout, eat another toddler-sized meal, school, eat (yep, you guessed it – miniature meal), workout, eat, eat some more, and somewhere after exhaustion and hunger takes over, I sleep. There’s also a lot of texting with Gabby, which is basically the highlight between all the other must-dos in my day.
I’m lying in bed texting her and wondering if I should invite her over or ask her on a real date when Joel stops by my room. He knocks on the open door to get my attention. “We’re going out in thirty.”
“Pass.”
He makes a sound like a buzzer. “Wrong answer. It’s the last Monday of the month, last Monday of the month for the entire school year, last chance to get dollar beers at Prickly Pear, last—”
“Alright, alright. I’ll go. Just stop saying the word last. I’m not dying.”
He smirks and steps away from my room.
Me: Plans tonight? Looks like I’m going to Prickly Pear with the guys.
Gabby: Same! Blair and Vanessa are over and we’re getting ready. It’s taking a while because I can’t seem to find my favorite pair of red panties.
Me: What color is the second-string?
Gabby: Only one way to find out.
Prickly Pear is packed when we arrive, and the girls aren’t here yet, so we grab a bucket of beers and then work our way through the chaos to hunt for a table. All that’s available is a four-top so we take it and then Joel goes to grab extra chairs.
I shoot a text to Gabby to let her know we’re here and have a table. When I look up, Wes is grinning at me all weird like.
“What?” I ask and set my phone on the table in case Gabby responds.
“Nothing.” His grin grows larger.
“Spit it out or stop smiling at me like that.”
He takes a drink and then leans back, beer bottle resting on his leg. He’s drawing out the moment and holding me in suspense for his own satisfaction. “I just think it’s fun to see you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Hung up on a chick.” He motions to my phone. “Texting her.” He lifts his head and points toward my leg which is bouncing under the table. “Anxiously waiting to see her. You’re so gone for her. How’s this going to work when you leave?”
The reminder that whatever this thing between Gabby and me is – it’s only temporary - does a funny thing to my insides. I force both feet to stay glued to the floor, take a swig of beer, and shake my head. “It’s not like that. Neither of us are looking for anything serious. Gabby just got to Valley – all she wants is to have a good time and get some of that freshman craziness out of her system.”
“Let’s say I believe that you two aren’t totally into each other.” He gives me a pointed look. “I don’t, by the way, but for argument’s sake, I’ll pretend that I do. Gabby might be inexperienced, but she’s not acting crazy with anyone but you – that’s different than the freshman crazy. And you, you’ve had four years to hang out and hook up, but until Gabby started coming around, you never did. Why now? What’s changed?”
I keep my mouth shut because if I start waxing poetic on how Gabby has made me look at life differently and how we’re having fun, seizing the day as Gabby would say, instead of dwelling on the expiration date his smile might get so big his head splits apart. Luckily the girls appear, and I don’t have to answer.
I stand as Gabby approaches and pull out the chair next to me. “Hey, you made it. Want something to drink?”
She takes a seat and there’s a nervous vibe bouncing between us which could be entirely my fault. Wes got all in my head. “That’d be great.”
The next two hours go by with Joel telling the girls stories of some of our less than finer moments at Prickly Pear, which turns into a stroll down drunken, embarrassing moments lane, and since most of those nights didn’t include me making a drunken spectacle, I find myself out of the hot seat and can just sit back and enjoy our time together.
Maybe it’s Joel’s insistence to make a production out of every last milestone or maybe the end of my college life is making me nostalgic, but either way, I’m not counting down the minutes until I can go home and go to bed.
I sneak a glance at Gabby sitting beside me. She hangs on every word, every story like it’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever heard. So filled with hope and possibility of all the moments she’s missed and, if I’ve come to know her like I think I do, planning for how she can have all those experiences and more. I have no doubt she will. Girl is gonna leave a mark on Valley with the time she has left. I’m sad I’ll miss watching that. Even sad I’ll miss being a part of it.
I slide my foot toward and hook it around her leg. At the contact, she doesn’t look dire
ctly at me, but I see her confirm my movement out of her peripheral. In response, she angles her body a fraction of an inch in my direction. It’s the smallest bit of contact, but the adrenaline rush I feel at our connection is big and exciting like those minutes before tip-off when I’m so psyched for a game I feel like anything is possible.
Well before last call, Joel stands. “I’m gonna head out.”
It’s the first time I’ve noticed he didn’t drink much tonight. He maybe had three beers which is not the Joel Moreno way. He’s usually tossing back Jack and chasing it with a twelve pack. Although now that I think of it, he hasn't really been like that since he started dating Katrina. She wasn’t able to come out tonight, so I’d bank on him taking it easy so he could show up at her place later.
“You got a ride?”
He nods to our teammate hanging out at the bar. “Malone’s gonna drop me at Katrina’s. See you guys tomorrow. Glad you came out, Z.”
“Me too,” I answer honestly.
The girls took off to the bathroom in a group more than five minutes ago and I find myself watching the door just like Mario and Wes. I look away because didn’t I just make a point how I wasn’t like Wes or the other guys totally hung up on a girl?
Movement catches my eye and my head turns before I can stop myself. Gabby leads the pack, confidence set in her shoulders, head held high and a playful smile dancing on her face. The only visible sign of uncertainty she wears is the way she holds her right hand in a fist tight against her leg as she walks. Instead of taking their seats, Blair and Vanessa hang back and watch as she approaches me.
When she’s within an arm’s length away, she extends her right hand, still in a fist toward me. Her eyes dart around and then she leans in and whispers, “Black.”
My brow arches in question and she pushes her fist against my hand and opens. My reflexes are shit while I'm trying to figure out what's going on, but the soft material grazes my hand as it falls to the floor. She gasps at the same time I finally catch sight of the black panties now laying on the ground by my feet.
The Tip-Off: A Smart Jocks Novel Page 13