Page 35 of The Pass
For all the things Sydney and I have done together, we’ve never gotten ready for a party or a night out at the same place. It almost feels like a date as I sit in the living room scrolling through my phone waiting on her.
She’s come out three times with different dresses to ask my opinion. Her style is short, tight, and colorful and there’s absolutely no way to go wrong with that so I’m not a lot of help. Torture devices? Yes. But the good kind of torture.
“Babe, Uber’s going to be here in three minutes. Are you almost—”
My words die as she steps into view.
“I’m ready. I’m ready.” Thankfully she’s staring down at the small purse she carries, so she doesn’t see my jaw drop to the ground and hang out there while my eyes scan her from head to toe.
Tonight’s torture device isn’t a dress, but the amount of pain it causes remains the same. A plain white tank top is tucked into a hot pink skirt that ends waaay above her knees. It’s just a step above indecent. She got some sun the last few days and her skin has this smooth and satiny look to it. I want to run my hands up her legs and see if they’re really as smooth as marble. It’s the sort of thing I might have joked about just a few days before, but the tightening of my jeans in the crotch area refuses to let me play it off like that.
“Tanner?” Sydney asks. Her brows knit in concern.
“Sorry, what?”
“Does this look okay?” She runs a hand along her waist. “I don’t usually wear skirts because I don’t like the way the band feels around my stomach and I swear somehow that tiny piece of added fabric makes my boobs look smaller, but… what do you think?”
“Skirt good. Very good. Err…” I shake my head. “I think my brain exploded. You look amazing.”
Her smile says she believes me. Sydney doesn’t often need or request my praise, but after seeing how happy she was when Jonah fawned over her earlier, I realize I need to be quicker to give it. A job I’m happy to do.
I stand and close the distance between us. Running my hand down her arm, because I can’t freaking help myself, I breathe her in. She smells like my shampoo and body wash and fuck, why is that so hot?
“You look pretty good yourself.” She places a hand on my chest. It’s when she compliments me that I realize I may not have been doling out the praise, but she always has. A new shirt or even an old one that she thinks fits me well, a good hair day, little things sometimes, but she’s always looked for, and been verbal about, the ways I impress her.
I’m a fucking idiot.
“Let’s go show you off.” I hold my arm out, and she grabs on to my bicep.
The Cove is only about five minutes by boat but by car it takes us almost thirty. The Uber pulls up to the front door and I climb out behind Sydney.
The bar is at the front of the place leaving room for tables on the back half that look out at the lake. We squeeze in and order drinks. A band is set up on one side and they’re covering a Heart song. Sydney sways in place to the music.
“I know that look,” I tell her, shaking my head. “I’m going to have to carry you off the dance floor tonight, aren’t I?”
She grins. Yep, that’s a yes.
We take our drinks and weave through the crowd. Jonah is easy to spot, especially since he’s somehow commandeered three tables. They’re pushed together and pitchers of beer and empty shot glasses line the surface.
“Hey!” Jonah calls out when he sees us. “Syd, I saved you a seat next to me.”
She rushes off without hesitation and I take the only other seat on the opposite side by Ollie and a couple of guys I recognize from the boat yesterday.
The band continues to cover popular songs from the past thirty years which fits the mix of ages in here.
I’m half-listening to the guys and sneaking glances at Sydney across the table. She and Jonah talk and laugh. He stands and helps her to her feet.
“So, Tanner,” Ollie starts, pulling my attention away from the hot, blonde otherwise known as my best friend. “Which are you going to do after college, baseball or basketball? I assume they’re both scouting you.”
“I’m not sure.” I finish off my beer and set it on the table.
“Maybe you could do like Michael Jordan did. Play a few years of one and then switch.”
Laughter slips out. “Even Jordan didn’t pull that off.”
The truth is, I haven’t decided. I don’t want to give up either. Each professional organization has pros and cons and the lifestyle of both will be brutal. Tara’s definitely right about that even if I’d never admit it to her. Still I can’t imagine giving up either let alone both.
Every time I think I’ve made up my mind, I change it. I still have some time before I need to commit to anything, and I’m going to take all that I need to make sure I make the right decision.
