I’m hanging in the theater room, texting around to see what’s going on tonight, when Nathan pops in. “Hey, what are you doing later?”
“I don’t know. Football guys are having a party, a few people are going to the baseball house, Datson and Benny are at the Prickly Pear.”
“Come with me to The Hideout.”
“Who’s there?”
“Chloe and her roommates.”
“Sydney?”
Nathan pauses. “Is she the one with the long, blonde hair?”
I scoff. The one with the long, blonde hair? That’s the best he can do to describe her? “She’s the super hot one. Long legs, big brown eyes, heart-shaped face, killer smile…”
He gives me a blank stare.
With an eye roll, I say, “Yeah, dude, she’s the one with the long, blonde hair.”
“Cool. I’m going to find Chloe. Pick us up at Freddy dorm in thirty minutes?” He lifts his arms and taps the archway and then leaves.
I’m on my feet and jogging up the stairs to get ready before he’s out the front door. After taking a quick shower, I flip through my closet to find something to wear.
Joel stops in the open doorway of my room. “Hey, everything good? I haven’t had a chance to talk with you since you moved in.”
“Yeah, it’s great. I really appreciate it.” Not only is living in The White House cheaper than the dorms, it’s across the street from our practice and game facility. It’s all upside.
“Going out tonight?” he questions.
“Yeah, Nathan and I are going to The Hideout. You want to come?”
“Nah, I’m heading over to Katrina’s. Have fun.”
I figured as much. He’s almost never here, I’ve come to realize. He stays at his girlfriend’s place most nights.
I go back to finding the right T-shirt and jeans combination. As I’m pulling on a white shirt, my phone pings. I’m only a little disappointed when it’s Tara instead of Sydney.
Tara: Hey! Are you still coming home next weekend for my game?
Me: Planning on it.
Tara: Yay! Best big brother EVER.
Chuckling, I toss my phone on the bed. I can almost see Tara’s face and hear her voice through her texts. Only fifteen months younger than me, Tara and I are close. Our parents raised us like twins, putting us in all the same activities. If one of us wanted to play a sport or learn an instrument, the other one had to, too.
Those six months she thought she wanted to be a ballerina were rough. I totally showed up those little girls with my kickass pirouette though. And her interests did have some benefits. For example, I was voted the best dressed guy in my senior class thanks to Tara picking out my entire wardrobe. Sadly, I’m still hopeless without her help.
I button my jeans and walk to my bed and pick up the phone again.
Me: Are T-shirt and jeans okay for a sort-of date?
Tara: Define sort-of date? Where are you going? Is it just the two of you?
Me: Going to a bar and then maybe back to my place to hang out and no, there will be other people with us.
Tara: That doesn’t sound anything like a date.
Me: I said “sort-of”.
Tara: Boys are dumb.
Me: Noted. Now help me, please.
Tara: Send me a picture, full-length.
Me: Calling you so this is less painful.
I press the button to FaceTime her and prop up my phone on my desk. Stepping back so she can see my entire outfit, I feel a little ridiculous when her face appears on the screen.
“Where are you?” I ask by way of greeting. It’s noisy and people are walking around behind her.
“I’m at the lake house for the weekend.”
“Oh, nice. Did you take the boat out?”
“Focus, brother.”
“Right.” I hold my arms out from my sides. “Well?”
Her lip curls up and she tilts her head side to side. “It’s okay.”
My shoulders slump and I groan.
“I’m sorry, T, but it’s so boring. The white T-shirt is played out.”
“It’s classic,” I argue.
“Corinne,” Tara calls. “Tell Tanner his outfit sucks.”
My sister’s long-time friend, Corinne, appears next to her. “Hey Tanner.”
“Hey, Corinne. Help a guy out? I look okay, right?” Again, I hold my arms out. Corinne always takes my side. Ganging up on my sister is our favorite pastime. But the look on her face as she scrutinizes my outfit is not encouraging.
“It’s not bad.” She smiles hesitantly.
“Great, I was hoping she’d take one look at me and say, ‘Eh, not bad’.”
Tara and Corinne roll their eyes at me in perfect synchronization.
I tip my head back and stare up at the boring white ceiling. Fuck, I’m a boring white ceiling.
“Can you two help me or what? I have five minutes before I have to leave to pick her up.”
“God, he’s such a drama queen,” my sister says to her friend who nods in agreement. “Picking her up is a good move though, props for that.”
I smile tightly. No reason to tell them I wasn’t actually the one who decided that part.
“Do you have anything that isn’t black, white, or gray?” Corinne asks.
I go to my closet and pull out the first three shirts that meet that criteria and bring them closer for their inspection.
“Oooh,” they say in unison and then turn to one another.
That sounded promising. I glance at the shirts and hold out the navy blue one. “This one?”
Their heads shake side to side and at the same time they say, “Pink!”
“I love your shirt.” It’s the first thing out of Sydney’s mouth when she climbs into the passenger seat of my car.
“Yeah?” I wait until Nathan and Chloe are settled in the back before I pull away from the dorm.
“Bright colors—pinks, yellows, greens—they make me happy.”
Thank you, Tara.
The Hideout is already busy, but we’re able to grab a booth close to the bar. Sydney slides in and I follow.
“I’m glad this worked out. I’ve been looking forward to hanging with you again.”
“You have?” Her smile is fucking radiant.
“Well, yeah. I thought I made it clear the other night that I wanted to keep bumping into you.”
“I do too.” She ducks her head a tad like she might be embarrassed to admit she likes my company. She glances to Nathan and Chloe across from us. “What are we drinking?”
“I’m gonna grab a pitcher. Be right back.” I stand. “Want anything else?”
The tip of her tongue comes out to wet her lips. “I’ll come with you.”
Angling my body to make room for both of us in the cramped space, I lean against the bar. “What do you feel like drinking?”
“Beer is fine.”
“Fine is boring.”
“Beer is great, then.”
“Pitcher of the IPA on tap,” I say to the bartender and then focus back on Sydney. “You look great.”
“It’s the dress.”
“It’s you.”
She looks unconvinced. “Don’t get me wrong, I like the dress, but you could have worn a T-shirt and jeans and you’d still look great.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Well, I’ve run into you on campus, at parties, bars.” She waves a hand indicating The Hideout. “And you only noticed me when I was in the tightest dress I own and standing a foot away from you. If it hadn’t been for Nathan talking to Chloe…”
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you before. It isn’t because you aren’t beautiful. I’m sure you were just as stunning all those other times. Last year I did my best to keep my head down and focus. Yeah, I went out and partied, but I was living in a fog. I’m convinced of that more than ever now that I know we were in the same room and my eyes failed me.”
“You’re forgiven.”
Back at the table, the four of us chat—me and Sydney more than Nathan and Chloe. They’re obviously into one another, but they’re a lot more subtle than we are. I dig that about Sydney. She doesn’t make me second-guess whether or not she wants to be here. Her attention is solely focused on me and mine on her.
I wrap an arm around the back of the booth, fingertips brushing her shoulder. I refill my glass and take a small drink. “So, did you have a boyfriend last year?”
“No.” Her face scrunches up adorably. “Why?”
“Wishful thinking, I guess.” Though even as I say it, I get a little rage-y picturing her with someone else. “I’d like to think I only overlooked you because you were on some guy’s arm and I was being respectful.”
“Does having a boyfriend really stop guys from checking out girls?”
“Well, no, but it usually stops us from doing anything about it. Maybe I looked across the room and you looked happy and content with some guy and I sighed and reluctantly let you be. Being the bigger man and all that.”
Her body shakes with laughter. “What about you? As far as I know, you haven’t had any girlfriends at Valley, but there was a rumor about you and the women’s tennis coach.”
“Say what?”
“Gotcha! But have you seen her? She’s seriously hot.”
Before I know it, Sydney’s pulled out her phone and navigating to the Valley U athletics page to show me. And damn, Coach Ryan is hot. Not as hot as Sydney, but definitely hot. Somehow that leads us down a rabbit hole of passing her phone back and forth rating the hotness of all the coaches.
“Are you two ready?” Nathan asks.
I glance up and notice the pitcher is empty. Shit, I have no idea how long Sydney and I have been in our own little bubble.
“Yeah.” I look to her. “You want to come back to The White House?”
“Definitely.”
When we get back to the house, we find Datson already back from the Prickly Pear and playing Xbox in the living room.
“Oh, man, that’s old school. What game is that?” Sydney walks right in and sits down on the couch.
“Tecmo Bowl. It’s awesome.” I tip my head at Datson. “I demand a rematch from this afternoon. You want winner, Payne?”
He shakes his head. “Gonna hang with my girl.”
Chloe and Nathan join us despite acting like they want to be alone. I’m seated next to Sydney. She leans forward watching the game with rapt interest. I get a little too distracted with her beside me. The feel of her leg resting next to mine, the smell of her hair—coconut, I think. I’d really like my hands back—they’re itching to touch her.
“Damn. I’ve never seen anyone lose so fast.” Datson punches me in the arm and then looks to Nathan. “You’re up.”
Nathan lifts a hand. “Shaw, toss me the controller.”
I do and then focus my attention on Sydney.
“You’re terrible.” Those dark eyes are lit with laughter at my loss.
“It’s an old game, I’m still getting the hang of it.”
She doesn’t look convinced. I lay a palm on her thigh and squeeze playfully. “Let’s see how you do.”
Her gaze goes to my hand and then back to my face. “Bring it on, Tanner.”
“Me and Sydney have next game,” I tell the guys and then lean closer to Sydney. “You’re the only person who calls me that. Well, besides my family.”
“Should I call you Shaw?”
“Nah, I like it.” I stroke her smooth skin lightly with my thumb, not moving my hand up to creeper level but exploring the chemistry between us. As I expected, it’s off the charts.
After video games, where I may or may not have let her win (cough, cough, I did not, she beat me straight up), we head out to the pool. Sydney didn’t have a suit so she’s in one of my shirts and boxers. Nathan and I show the girls how to play water ball. What is usually an intense competition between guys is more of a friendly, flirty game. Sydney and I use every opportunity to touch and splash one another. After we score, she throws her arms around my neck and squeals in victory.
We’re killing them. Sydney is as competitive as I am and knowing that every score is another chance that she might hug me in celebration makes me an impossible man to beat. I’m good with incentives.
“All right, we give,” Nathan says after the second game. “We’re going in to watch a movie or something.”
Code, they’re going to make out.
“Thanks for the game.” I wrap my arms around Sydney’s waist underwater and pull her against me. “Are you good staying out here for a while?” I ask her as they climb out and start toward the house. “I love it out here at night.”
“Definitely.” She leans her head back against my shoulder.
The water is perfect in the warm night air. Clear skies mean there’s even a few stars out.
She sighs. “This house, this pool, it’s amazing. I’m insanely jealous.”
“You have a standing invitation.”
“Do you think your roommates would object if I started coming over every day to use this pool?” She swims away from me and then turns over on her back, floating and staring up at the sky.
“Nah, we’re pretty good with hot girls showing up to use the pool whenever they want.”
She tilts her head to look at me and snorts. “Of course.”
I skim my hand through the water and interlock our fingers, using the leverage to pull her back to me. Water drips from her hair down her face and lands on the corner of her mouth. With the pad of my thumb, I wipe it away and then slowly bring my lips to hers.
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