Page 26 of The Tip-Off
My pulse is racing when I approach the basketball court and hear the faint sound of a ball echoing off the floor. Is it possible to feel someone’s presence? I’m certain I can even before I turn the corner. And there he is looking like the all-American athlete he is.
I stand on the edge of the sideline, watching him, totally captivated by the way he moves. He’s a different person when he has the basketball in his hands.
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s spring break?” I ask as I walk onto the court.
Up close, I can see the sweat.
“That’s all anyone seems to be telling me this week.” He lifts his shirt to wipe his face and I don’t even pretend not to notice the way his abs are cut and practically goading me to reach out and trace the lines where individual muscles separate. “What are you doing here?”
“Recruiting a friend.”
One dark brow raises.
“There’s a fitness class outside and I want to go, but I don’t want to go alone.”
“What kind of fitness class?”
“I don’t know. Does it matter? I need a workout buddy and here you are.” I grab his hand and pull, but he stays rooted to the spot and I fling back like a bungee cord.
I drop his big paw so I can plant my hands on my hips. “If only Blair were here, I’m sure she’d go with me.” I pull on the hem of my tank top so the neckline falls below the scoop of my sports bra and the cleavage I’d been hiding on my friendship quest is front and center. I steal a glance down and the girls are as perked up as I am. I can hardly blame them after that ab display. “I guess I’ll just roam the halls until I find someone else who will go with me. Can you point me in the direction of the boy’s locker room?”
I know just mentioning Blair will do the trick. Zeke has proven time and again that he is annoyingly loyal. I threw the boob display in for dramatic flair, but holy smoke, batman, my ego is getting a nice boost as his heated gaze drops to my chest before he catches himself and looks away. Zeke is a boob guy. Interesting. I file that away in the very short list of things I know about him.
“Fine. Let’s go. I still need to do some flexibility training before I call it a day.”
I bounce beside him as we walk through the fieldhouse, backtracking the way I came to the general fitness room and out the way the Sigma girls went.
At the first sight of the purple shirts, Zeke’s steps slow. “Sweet baby…”
“Goats!” I squeal. “Oh my God, it’s goat yoga!” I read the sign and look at the girls sprawled out on their mats, goats roaming between them.
“Hello!” the bouncy leader from earlier greets us in front of the fenced-in area where the goats, and the yogis already in there petting my new furry friends, are hanging out. “Welcome. I’m Misty. We’re so happy you could join us.” Her head tips up, traveling the length of Zeke’s body until she reaches his face. I’m irrationally perturbed that she’s checking him out right in front of me. How does she not see that we’re together? I’m about to cross her off my future friend list when she flips her head to the side and brings her eyes back to me, giving me the same appraisal.
“I love that sports bra! Does it have back clasps too, or is the zipper the only thing keeping it on?” She steps closer to get a better look.
“Oh, uh.” I lift the scoop of my tank back up to cover myself. “Just the zipper. One swift pull and out they pop.” I laugh awkwardly and make the sound of a zipper and then an explosion like my boobs are the bomb.
Zeke makes a choked sound and then coughs. When Misty and I look over, he raises his hands and ducks his head. “Sorry. Swallowed wrong.”
Misty glances between us and then turns sideways, lifting a hand like Vanna White. “Go on in and find a mat. The class will start in just a few minutes.”
“Oh my God, Zeke, they have on horns and wings!”
There are five or six baby goats in total, most of them playing in the middle where a group has gathered to coo and pet them, but in the far corner a small black and brown goat is laying on an empty mat. I hustle in that direction, slip off my shoes and kneel in front of my new best friend.
“Look at him! Oh my goodness. He’s so cute.”
“She.” A woman wearing a Got Goats? t-shirt appears out of nowhere and hands me a piece of animal cracker. “That there is Trixie.”
“Hi, Trixie.” I run my hand down her back and place the other, palm out, just under her mouth. I glance at Zeke, hovering off to the side like he wants no part of this. “Get over here and meet Trixie.”
“I’m good,” he says. “Are you okay now? Can I head back?”
“What? No! We’re doing goat yoga.”
He shakes his head adamantly.
“Come on! It’s yoga with GOATS!” I lift Trixie and hold her out to Z who takes a step back. “No thanks.”
