Page 16 of The Tip-Off
I stifle a yawn as I walk around the back of The White House and enter the back yard.
“You came!” Nathan calls as he exits the house carrying two beers. Bright blue swim trunks hang from his hips and I gawk, mouth open, as he walks toward me. “Here ya go.”
I drop my bag and towel by the large, sparkling pool, take the beer even though it’s barely ten o’clock in the morning, and shake my head before popping the top. “Nathan, your abs have abs.”
He winks. “Abs for Gabs.”
Just when I’m about to call him out on his ego, he looks down, a shy smile tugs at his lips.
“Gabby, you know Tanner Shaw and Marcus Malone?” He motions to the pool where the guys are hanging out.
Shaw raises his beer and Malone waves in greeting.
“Hey!” A trio of voices draws my attention to the slider Nathan just came out of. The three girls are bikini-clad, hair pulled up in messy buns, and one of them carries a large unicorn floatie.
“Shelly, Tara, Simone, you girls know Gabby? She’s a friend of Blair’s from high school.”
We offer awkward hellos and I take a seat next to the pool, dipping my feet in the cool water. Before I’ve finished my first beer, more girls have shown up and everyone has moved to the pool for water ball, which is basically just basketball in five feet of water. Two floating baskets are positioned at each end of the large pool and the teams are divided up evenly. Shaw and Nathan are on one team with Shelly and Simone against everyone else. I’m sitting on the edge cheering them on and occasionally making a final decision on fouls.
Nathan splashes me playfully as he swims back on defense. “You want in this game? Malone needs all the help he can get.”
“Next game,” I say and stand. “I’m gonna go get another beer.”
As I enter the house, the blast of air conditioning on my wet legs pulls a shiver from me. I toss my empty in the recycling and grab another beer from the fridge, but instead of heading back out, I walk toward the noise coming from the TV room.
Zeke’s reclined in a large leather chair, phone in hand, a deep line of annoyance creased between his eyes.
“Hey,” I say, hovering in the doorway. “Hashtag blues?”
He nods without looking up. “Sara wasn’t all that impressed with the numbers for my first post, she wants me to post something more personal.” He turns the phone so I can see his screen. It’s a picture of Joel kicked back on a lounger, perfect body on display, the beach and ocean as a backdrop. “Is this the shit people really want to see?”
I walk all the way into the room and take the seat next to him. As I place my beer in the armrest cupholder, I feel his eyes on me. I realize that my low-cut swimsuit is doing nothing to conceal my nipples’ reaction to the cool air at the same time he does, which only makes them tighten harder. His gaze holds a beat longer before he looks away.
“Maybe I should just pay someone to do it for me.” His low voice rakes over my skin.
“I have an idea.” At my words, he looks to me hopefully, and I stand. “Come on.”
It takes some convincing to get Zeke in swim trunks. Though, Lord knows why because he iswearingthe things.
“Z!” the guys call out to him when they catch sight of us coming outside. For a guy that seems to prefer to be alone, he’s got a lot of people just dying to hang with him.
The game is put on pause as Zeke and I get into the water and are added to teams. Nathan swims up to me and whispers, “You’re some sort of miracle worker getting Zeke to join. He never gets in the water.”
“Really?”
He nods just as the game starts back up. It doesn’t take long before Zeke forgets that he’s a grumpy fun-hater and starts to get into it.
Nathan and Zeke communicate wordlessly, passing the mini basketball around and moving in the water with ease. The other guys are good, too, but Nathan and Zeke have the kind of comfort and compatibility that speaks to their years of being teammates. It’s damn impressive and I give up any pretenses of playing. I’m not providing a lot of value, anyway, occasionally stealing a bad pass and then quickly sending the ball sailing to someone else, so I slip out and grab my phone from a lounge chair.
Every time Zeke gets possession, I snap as many pictures as I can, hoping at least one comes out capturing him as a fun, carefree college guy. I gotta admit, being his personal photographer isn’t a bad gig. And when he’s smiling and having fun, I find myself wanting to be around him even more. So does everyone else. They slap his back, give him fist bumps, the girls get handsy on defense and bat their eyelashes. How can a guy that’s so insistent on keeping people at arm’s length be so well liked?
When the game is over, Zeke pulls himself from the pool. His wet body glistens as the water drips off him. He shakes his head in my direction with a smile on his face.
“Have fun?” I sing-song.
“I did,” he says and nods slowly like he’s equally as surprised.
“Well, I got some great options.” I hold up my phone and then motion for him to take a seat on a lounge chair.
