The Pass

by Rebecca Jenshak

  The Pass

  Rebecca Jenshak

  Contents

  Blurb

  1. Tanner

  2. Sydney

  3. Tanner

  4. Sydney

  5. Tanner

  6. Sydney

  7. Tanner

  8. Sydney

  9. Tanner

  10. Sydney

  11. Tanner

  12. Sydney

  13. Tanner

  14. Sydney

  15. Tanner

  16. Sydney

  17. Sydney

  18. Tanner

  19. Sydney

  20. Sydney

  21. Tanner

  22. Sydney

  23. Tanner

  24. Sydney

  25. Sydney

  26. Tanner

  27. Sydney

  28. Tanner

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Also By Rebecca Jenshak

  Secret Puck Sample

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2020 by Rebecca Jenshak

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  * * *

  Rebecca Jenshak

  www.rebeccajenshak.com

  Cover Design by Jena Brignola

  Cover Photo by Wander Aguiar

  Editing by Ellie McLove at My Brother’s Editor

  * * *

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Created with Vellum

  Blurb

  I’ve been in love with her for two years.

  The first time around, I screwed things up. I hesitated and the moment was gone.

  I passed when I shouldn’t have.

  Not a total loss. I gained a best friend instead of whatever we might have been.

  Sydney is hands down the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ll do anything to keep her in my life. Even bury my feelings deep inside.

  But one hot summer together at the lake filled with lots of teeny-tiny bikinis and I’m ready to risk it all for a second chance.

  It’s time to take my shot.

  1

  Tanner

  Two years ago

  * * *

  “I feel like Cinderella.” My buddy, Datson, spins in a circle, his arms held out to his sides and head tipped back in wonder, in the entryway of The White House, Valley University’s unofficial basketball house, best party spot on campus, and our new digs.

  I snort and drop my bag on the tile floor. “It’s a little hard to picture you in a dress, dude.”

  “I guess that makes me your fairy godmother then.” Joel skips down the stairs to greet us. His dad, the university president, owns the house, so he basically is our fairy godmother. This place is a palace. “Welcome, guys.”

  “This is so dope,” Datson says, still taking it all in like he’s never been here before.

  There are only four bedrooms at The White House and being asked to move in is an honor. With the new school year, two of the previous guys graduated, opening up two spots. Joel lives here, as does our other teammate Nathan.

  “Wes and Zeke’s rooms are all cleaned out for you guys. We’re having a party tonight, so get settled in and then let’s celebrate.” Joel claps me on the shoulder and then heads off toward the kitchen.

  Datson and I go upstairs, stopping briefly to stare inside the half-sized basketball court that we’re now going to be able to use anytime we want. It’s just one of the perks of living here. There’s also a theater room and a back yard with a huge pool and lots of space that’s perfect for parties.

  “Sure beats dorm living.” Datson takes a step down the hall. “Which room do you want?”

  “I don’t care, man. I don’t plan on spending a lot of time in it when I can be outside in that pool.”

  I let him pick and then walk into the other one. It isn’t a lot bigger than my dorm room was, but it’s a hell of a lot nicer. The walls are white and smell like they’ve been painted recently. A mural of the Valley U Roadrunner mascot is above the bed and there’s a stack of bedding folded neatly on the end of the mattress. A desk and chair round out the furniture in the room.

  After putting away my stuff and taking a shower, I don a pair of swim trunks and a T-shirt and head outside. It’s early, but a few guys from the team are already out back chilling by the pool. The White House is the unofficial hangout even for the guys that live in the dorm or off campus.

  “Incoming.” Datson tosses me a beer as I take a lounge chair next to him.

  I catch it like I’m cradling a football, pop the top, and take a long drink of the icy-cold beer. “Fuck, this is the life.”

  “I may never go to class again.”

  Nathan, the team’s resident partier and now one of my new roommates is sitting on the hot cement in jeans rolled up so he can dangle his feet in the water, cigarette in hand. “I tried that. Turns out you aren’t allowed to live here if you flunk out.” He smirks so I think he’s kidding, but you never know with Nathan. I wouldn’t put anything past him.

  “Yo, Nate.” Datson holds up a beer and when Nathan turns, he throws it to him. Nathan catches it but then tosses it back. “No thanks, man, I’m good right now.”

  “Pacing yourself?” I ask. “That’s new.” Nathan’s usually the first person with a drink in his hand and the last person to stop.

  “It’s going to be a long night. I suggest you do the same. The back-to-school party every year is insane and now you can’t just leave to get away from it.”

  “Sounds rad to me,” Datson says as Nathan stands and pulls out his phone, ignoring us. “Why would I ever want to leave an awesome party?”

  “No clue.” I hold up my beer. “Cheers to a long night.”

  An hour later, I’m three deep when I notice the party has really started to bump. All around shirts are coming off—that’s always a good sign fun is being had—and people are jumping into the pool. That’s exactly where I am, watching the patio where Valley U students continue to pour out.

  Datson named himself party host and is jumping around chatting people up, offering cups, and acting like he’s lived here for years instead of two hours.

  Several of my teammates are in the pool with me shooting the Nerf basketball into the hoop set up on one end, but I don’t have any interest in playing.

  I spot Nathan near the edge of the pool. He’s got a cute blonde hanging on him, but he doesn’t seem to be enjoying her company. She’s got fun written all over her which I would have guessed is his type. He tips his head to me in the universal sign for, go ahead, she’s all yours, and I start toward them, but not before she throws her arms around an unsuspecting Nathan and brings him down into the water fully clothed.

  “Oh shit.” I bust up laughing, as does everyone else that witnessed it.

  She’s giggling when they resurface, but he is not. Nathan climbs out, jeans and shirt sticking to his body, mouth in a hard, straight line. I haven’t quite figured out what his problem is until I see him walking toward a chick from our communications class. She’s a transfer and hot. Hot enough to ditch a good time apparently.

  I reach them as he and the communications chick, Chloe, are saying hello. I jut my chin in greeting to her and then slap a hand on Nathan’s wet shoulder. “Dude, that was hilarious. You should have seen your face when she pulled you in.”

  He responds, I’m almost pos
itive, but I lose the ability to hear. I scan the group of girls with Chloe and my gaze gets stuck on a tall blonde with big brown eyes that render me stupid. She’s wearing a neon pink dress that hugs her athletic frame. She’s staring at me too, although not quite so blatantly. Her gaze flits to me and then darts away. A shy smile tugs at her lips.

  I know I’m gawking but I’m having a hard time doing anything about it until Nathan interrupts my thoughts by elbowing me in the ribs. “Shaw, can you lend Maureen some dry clothes?”

  “Definitely,” I say without thinking and before I realize Maureen is the girl that took him down in the pool and not the one I’m currently eye fucking. Reluctantly, I give my attention to Maureen who bats her eyelashes at me as she wrings out her dripping wet hair. I wrap an arm around her shoulders while not taking my eyes off Chloe’s friend. “Right, yeah, come with me.”

  As quickly as I can without being rude, I get Maureen some dry clothes and a fresh drink, then head back outside. Chloe and Nathan are nowhere in sight, but the friend in the neon dress is easy to spot. As I’m making my way toward her, she turns away from her group of friends as if she could feel me coming.

  “Hey,” I say. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself back there. I’m—”

  “Tanner Shaw,” she finishes for me. “I mean, I know. We’re in communications class together. I sit in the row in front of you to the left.”

  “You’re in our class too? The one with Chloe and Nathan?” I could have sworn Chloe was sitting by herself in there, and this girl isn’t someone you miss.

  She smirks. “Yep.”

  Damn, how did I miss her?

  “Sorry, I must have been actually listening to the professor. First week of classes habit.”

  She laughs. “I’m Sydney.”

  “Well, Sydney, I promise I won’t overlook you again.”

  Damn, way to sound like a creep. But seriously, I feel like someone just told me Bigfoot exists and I’ve been walking by him my whole life without noticing.

  “Do you want to hang out?” I motion with my head to the pool.

  “I’m here with some of my teammates. I don’t want to ditch them.” The group of girls behind her sneak glances at us as they arrange patio chairs so they can sit together.

  “All right, well, got room for one more?”

  “You want to hang out with us?”

  “I want to hang out with you,” I correct her.

  She grins. “Absolutely.”

  We’re just getting situated and Sydney is introducing me to her teammates when Nathan and Chloe rejoin us looking cozy. Definitely something going on there.

  “Aren’t they cute together?” Sydney says to her roommate. Emily, I think she said her name was.

  Emily sighs. “Chloe’s been at Valley U for less than a month and already has a boyfriend. I’ve been here a year and nothing.”

  Boyfriend? Well, damn, I didn’t think Nathan had it in him, but it explains his newfound disinterest in getting shit-faced and partying with randoms.

  Girlfriends aren’t normally my thing. The commitment doesn’t freak me out, I’m just not interested in the drama that often seems to follow. Playing two sports means I don’t ever have an off-season. Getting up early, working out, long practices—it’s a lifestyle for me.

  The girls play twenty questions with the happy couple while I focus my attention on Sydney.

  “What year are you?”

  “Sophomore.”

  “Same.” I think back, really peeved that I haven’t run into her before. How is that even possible? “Have you been at parties here before?”

  Maybe she doesn’t party much or had a boyfriend last year?

  “I have and a few at the baseball house, too.”

  “You know I play baseball?”

  “Yes, Tanner, I know you play baseball and basketball. I know that you were the third highest scorer on the basketball team last season and your saves on the baseball team are on track to be the best of any closer the school’s ever seen.”

  My brows lift and hide under the hair hanging onto my forehead. Damn.

  “I like sports.”

  “That is hot.”

  She smiles and arches a brow.

  “Not that you like sports, though that’s super cool. It’s hot that you know my stats.”

  “I know a lot of people’s stats.”

  “Let’s not talk about them.”

  Chuckling and shaking her head, Sydney smiles at me. “You’re as cocky as they say.”

  “You’re way hotter than they say.”

  She looks like she’s going to ask so I add, “No one’s said, but damn if I’m not real pissed that they haven’t.”

  She’s grinning and still shaking her head at me.

  “Do you want another drink?” I need to stand, move around. I’m so amped up talking to this girl.

  “Can I see the gym inside?” she asks and then bites her lip.

  “The basketball court?”

  She nods enthusiastically.

  That isn’t a request I imagined getting from a chick tonight, but far be it for me to deny this girl anything. “Sure.”

  With our drinks, we walk inside and weave through the party. When she nearly loses me in the crowd, she reaches out and grabs my elbow. Heat races up my arm at her touch. I slow long enough for her to get a good grip. Her skin is soft, but her hold is strong.

  The guys have always kept the court locked during parties, so I’ve never been in here myself while people are over. I unlock it and hold the door open for her to enter first.

  “Wow.” She walks in, tilting her head up and then turning to take it all in.

  I follow, staring at her. The gym is cool, but Sydney is a fucking wet dream.

  “This is amazing, Tanner. If I had a place to practice volleyball in my house, I’d never leave it.” Her gaze finally lands on me and her face is lit up with such excitement it stirs something inside of me.

  She continues her exploration as she walks toward the rack of basketballs. Reaching out, she lets her fingertips graze the tops of the balls.

  “Do you want to play?”

  Glancing over her shoulder, she asks, “Basketball?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  She picks up one of the balls and turns it over, running her palms along the leather. It’s as if she’s someone who played a long time ago and is getting a feel for it again, reacquainting herself with an old friend.

  She steps out of her heels and pads over to the top of the key. I didn’t bother turning the light on when we walked in, so it’s dark, only the skylights giving us enough illumination to see. She checks it to me, and I send it back, intrigued and anxious to see if she can play.

  With a hesitant start, she dribbles twice with her right hand before switching to her left. I’m too far away to steal it without moving so she takes her time dribbling in place before she takes a step to the basket.

  I let her come to me. When she’s less than an arm’s length away, I place a hand at her hip. It’s a small amount of contact that I do almost instinctively when I’m defending, putting pressure on the offense and letting them know I’m not going to allow them to go where they want, but my fingers tingle as she presses back into me, pushing me toward the basket.

  Sydney is fairly tall. I’m over six feet and the top of her head, even slightly bent over with the ball, comes up to my chin. Her frame is slender but strong and she doesn’t seem intimidated despite how impressive she thinks my stats are.

  Oh, and she definitely played ball at some point in her life. She naturally turns, angling her body to keep the basketball farther away. Her blonde hair brushes against my bare chest. She smells like cotton candy—sweet and addictive.

  “What position did you play? Guard?” I guess.

  She backs me up to the foul line where I refuse to give up any more ground quite so easily. And I’m not going to lie, her body pressed into mine is foreplay I didn’t even know I was missing. I’ve
never dated a chick who played basketball, or that had any real athletic ability. Now I wonder if I’ve missed out on a bunch more things because I’ve never been this excited about the idea of kissing someone.

  “Forward.” Sydney plants her left foot between mine and turns so she can get a half step in front of me and pulls up for a shot. I could block it, but I don’t. I watch as the ball rolls off her fingertips and sails through the air, and the look of excited anticipation while she waits to see if it’s going in. And I keep on staring, not really caring if it goes in or not, as she raises her arms in victory.

  2

  Sydney

  When I was a little girl, the boys loved having me on their team. Kick ball, tag, soccer, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t afraid to get dirty and play hard. I didn’t even know that made me somehow different from a lot of other girls until I started school.

  I showed up for kindergarten in my pretty new dresses and shiny shoes and went home with scrapes on my knees and dirt from head to toe. After the first week and five ruined dresses, my mother suggested we go shopping for more practical clothes I could play in. That’s not what I wanted, though. I liked my pretty dresses and I liked running through the playground wearing them.

  There was always something magical to me about being the girliest girl but still being a badass, even if that’s not how I would have described it at five. Fifteen years later and it still feels pretty magical to see the admiration in Tanner Shaw’s eyes as I drill a jumper from behind the free throw line.