Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“Hmph.” I sipped my beer, then slipped my free hand into my pocket so I wasn’t tempted to wring his neck when I inched closer to him. “Coach told me a funny story after he chewed my ass out for getting benched. He said you were transferring and…crazier still, he said you were joining my team.”
“Your team?”
“I’m the captain so yeah, it’s my team. Is it true? It must be. Why else would you be at Chelsea’s party? Did she invite you? If she did, don’t get too excited. She’s awesome but she’ll be the first to admit, she extends random invites to hot guys.”
Gabe’s eyes twinkled good-naturedly. “So you think I’m hot?”
“What? Fuck you. No,” I sputtered.
“Aw. I think that’s super sweet. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you like me,” he teased.
“I don’t.”
“Maybe a little? I kinda hope so, ’cause to answer your earlier question…yes. We’re gonna be teammates and probably best friends before you graduate. You are graduating, right? You’ve got to be twenty-five now.”
“I’m twenty-three, dickhead. And yeah, I’m graduating. Why are you transferring?”
“Long story short, the national team is training in Long Beach now. I can’t waste time commuting to LA for school, then back here for practices. The only way to get a degree and have a shot at the Olympics is to be in one central location.”
“Oh,” I said like a true lame-ass. “When are you gonna start practicing with us?”
“Next week.” Gabe rubbed his hands together before offering me his right one. “Let’s call truce, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal. What d’ya say?”
I stared at his outstretched hand for a moment and was about to shake it when someone bumped my elbow.
“This stuff is fucking awesome. Take a drink,” Evan insisted, prying my beer from my fingers and replacing it with another red cup. “And don’t worry, I made it myself. No funny business. Hey, Gabe. I think we’ve met at a water polo game or something. I’m Evan.”
I sipped the cocktail while they exchanged bro-style fist bumps and introductions. “Not bad. What’s in it?”
“Vodka, triple sec, vodka, lime juice, and more vodka,” Evan replied proudly.
“In other words, it’s a very strong kamikaze.”
“Exactly. You’re welcome. Give Gabe a taste. If you like it, I’ll make another one,” Evan said.
“No, thanks. I don’t drink during the season.” Gabe smiled at Evan, then turned and clasped my shoulder. “I’ll see you at practice Monday…Captain.”
Gabe moved away before I could respond, which was probably for the best. I’d just spent five minutes alone with him and miraculously, it wasn’t horrible. In fact, he was vaguely…pleasant. Although that parting line might have been a judgment call. Like he couldn’t believe the team captain would party during a crucial time. Technically, this was still pre-season. I took another drink, then handed the red cup back to Evan.
“Keep it. Look at you—making friends with the enemy. I’m proud of you, little buddy,” he gushed sarcastically.
I scoffed. “We’re not friends but if we’re going to be teammates, I might as well make the best of it.”
“Good idea. It’s cool of you to make an effort. That’s what counts.”
“Don’t give me too much credit. I didn’t go looking for Gabe. I bumped into him and Amanda making out,” I informed him with a world-class eye roll.
“Your Amanda?” he asked incredulously.
“She’s not my Amanda. She’s a free agent. We broke up,” I reminded him as I lifted the cup to my mouth. “Damn, this is strong.”
“Mmmhmm. Isn’t that gonna be weird for you if your ex starts showing up at your games drooling all over the guy you hated until ten minutes ago?”
“Nah. Gabe said they aren’t a thing anyway.”
“I like your attitude, man. But if they aren’t a thing, I think she’s trying to change that.”
Evan gestured toward the grassy area where a large group convened around a fire pit. Some were chatting, some were dancing. And on the fringe next to a potted plant, Gabe stood with his arm draped over Amanda’s shoulder. I noted her hand dipped in his back pocket and fuck, there it was again…a stabbing pang of something that felt a lot like misdirected jealousy.
I gulped the cocktail greedily, tipping the cup back until it was empty. “Who cares? It’s not my business. Make me another one? This might be your best drink yet,” I enthused, moving toward the side door.
I studiously averted his gaze and tried not to care that Evan probably assumed I regretted my decision to end a perfectly fine two-year relationship. I had zero regrets. But I couldn’t explain what was really going through my head when I didn’t understand it myself. This visceral, possessive feeling deep inside me had nothing whatsoever to do with Amanda. It was all for Gabe.
And it freaked me the fuck out. I thought I had this bi thing under control. I hadn’t looked at another guy twice in a long time. Why now? Better question…why Gabe? I couldn’t begin to process my reaction, which meant…this was a job for alcohol.