Page 22 of The Tip-Off
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’regonna 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?”
