Score two.
“Where are you living?” Nathan asks, standing a little taller. I pull my arm away so Maureen can step in. My work here is done.
“I’m going to get a drink. Nice to meet you.”
Without my partner in crime for the evening, I circle the party, stopping to say hello to people I know and smiling at people I don’t. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the girl that feels totally comfortable in my skin when I’m in a room full of strangers. Is anyone? But I’m getting there and I’m excited about the semester at Valley and sneaking away on long weekends to see Zeke.
“Yo, Gabby,” Joel calls out and I find him staring over the crowd. He nods to the door and I swivel to find my handsome boyfriend walking through it.
He takes my breath away, which is both ridiculous and totally amazing. People watch him, some just stare, others call out or pat his back as he makes his way to me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as he wraps his arms around me and lifts me, squeezing me so tightly and stealing whatever breath I had left clear out of my lungs.
“I missed you.”
“I was going to drive up in the morning.”
“I know, I couldn’t wait that long. Also, I had an idea.” He pulls me behind him out the front door. He stands in front of me, a big smile on his face. “You ready?”
“For what?”
“I was thinking you could drive up in that.” He steps to the side and points to the curb. A cherry red convertible is parked at the street. I can almost smell the new car scent, it’s so shiny and perfect.
“You didn’t?! Oh my God, Zeke, this is too much.”
He holds out the key in front of me. “I did warn you I was going to buy you one.”
“You’re insane.”
“Insanely in love.”
I roll my eyes, but my heart squeezes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I grab for the keys and he lifts them high out of reach. “It does come with one condition.”
“What’s that?” I cross my arms over my chest ready to play hard ball and do whatever it takes to get behind the wheel of that car.
“You let me choose the playlist for the drive.”
“You made a new car playlist, didn’t you?”
He winks and drops the keys in my hand. “You know it, beautiful.”
* * *
Zeke
Another Two Months Later
I toss my bag on the floor as I enter the apartment and call out for Gabby. I see signs of her everywhere from her purse on the counter to her backpack lying next to the couch. She managed to arrange her class and work schedule so she only has to be in Valley Tuesday through Thursday, so a good portion of the other days, she spends with me in Phoenix.
My girl is nowhere to be seen though. I head toward the bedroom, pulling my sweaty shirt over my head. Light creeps out of the bottom of the bathroom door.
“I’m home,” I announce and peel off my shorts. “Are you getting in the shower? And if so, can I join? My whole body hurts.”
“Just a minute,” she says and then mutters a string of curses and something drops to the floor.
“Everything okay?” I ask just outside the door.
“Yes. No. Yes. Shit. I’m coming out.”
The door opens a crack and she peers out, just her head, blonde wisps framing her face and those ocean eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Whatcha doing?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
Intrigued, me and Cliff – fuck, I’ve got to stop letting her call him that – stand at attention, ready and waiting. She steps out and gravel fills my throat, rendering me speechless. My reaction must please her because she adds a little extra bounce to her step, causing her boobs, which are orange and black, to bounce just like… well basketballs, which is exactly what they’re painted to look like.
“What did you do?” I ask when I find my voice.
“I was studying for art class and I decided to use my body as the canvas. Do you like?”
“Very much, except, I’m afraid to touch you.” I drop my hands to her hips and slip my thumbs through the string material of her panties.
“Yeah, it doesn’t come off very easily.” She lifts her hands so I can see her orange palms.
“God, I love you.” The girl painted her boobs to look like basketballs. If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.
She meets my gaze and smiles, love and trouble written all over her beautiful face. My chest tightens and my heart races. I thought getting to the NBA was the only thing I needed. Basketball was family and success all wrapped up in a leather-bound package. But now I’m looking forward to so much more. Life with Gabby will never be boring, and I need her to remind me that life should be fun and a little crazy. Scratch that, I want it and that’s so much more powerful than needing it.
“Marry me?”
She goes perfectly still and quiet, my question hanging between us. Slowly, the shocked expression on her face turns to another one of her gigantic smiles. “It’s the basketball boobs, right? I knew that was the secret to getting your attention.”
“I’m serious.” I tug her toward my nightstand and open it, remove the ring box and get down on one knee.
She covers her face with both hands. “Oh my God, you really are serious.”
“Will you marry me, Gabby?” I open the box so she can see the ring, but her eyes don’t so much as glance down at the round two carat diamond I’m holding. “I promise to love you so damn much. You’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been. And, yeah, you do things like paint your boobs to look like basketballs and I wonder how I got so lucky. I don’t ever want to stop being surprised by you and your crazy shenanigans. Marry me because before you I thought I couldn’t have a relationship and be a great ball player, but now I know that being with you makes me better in every way. Marry me because if it came between you or food, I’d pick you every time.”
Her smile stretches wider. “You’d die without food.”
“Some things are worth dying for.”
“Lucky for you, I won’t make you choose.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Zeke. A million times, yes.”
THE END
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Playlist
“Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See” by Busta Rhymes
“The Way I Are (Dance With Somebody)” by Bebe Rexha
“Truth Hurts” by Lizzo
“I Don’t Care” by Ed Sheeran feat. Justin Bieber
“Young, Wild & Free” by Snoop Dogg feat. Wiz Khalifa & Bruno Mars
“Whip My Hair” by Willow
“Bottled Up” by Dinah Jane feat. Ty Dolla $ign and Marc E. Bassy
“Almost (Sweet Music)” by Hozier
“Leave Me Alone” by Flipp Dinero
“My Chick Bad” by Ludacris feat. Nicki Minaj
“Ruff Ryders’ Anthem” by DMX
“I’ve Been Waiting” by Lil Peep feat. ILoveMakonnen & Fall Out Boy
“Ocean Eyes” by Billie Eilish
“Sucker” by Jonas Brothers
“Cold Water” by Justin Bieber
“Beautiful” by Snoop Dogg feat. Pharrell Williams & Uncle Charlie Wilson
“Beautiful” by Bazzi feat. Camila Cabello
“Shoot Pass Slam” by Shaquille O’Neal
“Nobody” by Martin Jensen & James Arthur
“Nights Like This” by Kehlani feat. Ty Dolla $ign
“I Got You” by Bebe Rexha
“Freak N You” by DJ Khaled feat. Lil Wayn
e & Gunna
“Here With Me” by Marshmello feat. CHVRCHES
“Talk” by Khalid
“Last Hurrah” by Bebe Rexha
“Issues” by Julia Michaels
“Blame It On Your Love” by Charli XCX feat. Lizzo
“Love You Like a Love Song” by Selena Gomez
Preview of Electric Blue Love
Continue reading for a free sample of Electric Blue Love.
Synopsis
Court
Here’s a thing I learned a long time ago… guys and girls don’t think about relationships the same way. Especially in college. So, when I caught the girl sitting next to me on the plane reading a magazine article on how to get out of the friend zone, I did something I never do – I got involved.
One look into her electric blue eyes and the darkness inside of me faded.
Light and hope radiated from her like a neon sign.
Guys like me know how to get the girl, but we rarely get to keep them.
Bianca
Girls like me fade into the background. Nice, quiet, smart girls who don’t wear trendy clothes. My friendship with Court started as an opportunity to get inside the male mind, but it turned into so much more.
His touch sent current coursing through my veins.
His kiss jolted my heart.
But here is something I learned a long time ago you can’t force people to love you back. No matter how much you long for them.
Prologue
Bianca
Voltage, a noun. The difference in electric potential between two points.
I loved electricity. It fascinated me as a child – a magic force that could be felt, but not seen. Instead of jumping back and gasping in surprise when I accidentally zapped myself turning off the TV, like I’d seen others do, I reveled in it – giggling and shuffling my feet on the carpet, desperately wanting to recreate it.
As I’d gotten older, I obsessed over the other type of electrical shock. The kind that happened between two people that were meant to be together. While a cliché notion to some, I held out hope that electric potential could exist between two people the same way it could between two points. I sought it out – waiting for the other person who could set my potential in motion.
Maybe part of me wanted to believe in the same way I believed in voltage. It made the idea of navigating love and relationships so much simpler… waiting for the touch of my perfect match that would send shock waves to my very core. And how great would that feel to have this jolt to the heart, so you’d know this person would be worth whatever struggles or problems that stood in your way. A spark that would leave no doubts.
So, I sat in wait – tension coiled and ready to be transferred to the other point. To the person that would love me in an electric way.
I loved electricity, but I hadn’t learned all there was to learn about it yet and my naivety made me stupid. In electricity and love. While I had been sitting in wait – hoping to find that perfect person whose touch sent a shock through my body, I had lost sight of a crucial part of voltage.
Current.
Because while voltage exists without current, current does not exist without voltage. I equated love with electric potential and the two points were me and my perfect match. I’d loved plenty of people but current… damn, the current that failed to arc. I guess what they say, you can’t force love, is true because I’d tried and failed so many times to shuffle my feet and force an electrical shock – to make people love me - only to be met with disappointment when they failed to love me in return.
Why was it evading me when I was so filled with electricity I could practically set myself on fire? People were hard to understand and love, well, that was even harder. I gave up looking for my perfect match and went back to the science. It was easier – it had rules and laws that were clear and precise. I didn’t give up on love, but I stopped trying to force it.
And with a hope that when the time was right love would find me, I devoted my life to voltage and current.
1
Bianca
“No, not that one. The one next to it.” My mother pointed to a large box on the top shelf of her closet. My brother, Donnie, awkwardly lifted the heavy cardboard and dropped it onto the bed.
“That it?” he asked and shifted anxiously toward the door.
She opened the flaps and as the pastel and floral prints peeked out, my mother grinned. “Yes. This is the one.”
“Cool, I’m out of here. Leo and I are going to the park to shoot hoops.”
Standing taller, my mother turned to face Donnie. “Did you make your bed and clean the hall bathroom?”
“Yes and yes,” he muttered. “All my chores are done.”
“Alright, say goodbye to your sister. And don’t be out too late.”
While Donnie wrapped one arm around my back and leaned in – his version of a hug, my mom called for Leo. My brothers collided in the doorway.
Twins, but not identical, Leo and Donnie had the same build and height. Among their differences were hair styles and clothing. Donnie kept his hair cropped short and styled and preferred collared shirts and skinny jeans. Leo’s hair and clothes were untidy, in a word, but he was attractive enough to pull it off in a carefree, too-cool-to-care-about-appearances way. Both sets of their light eyes, the same shade of laser blue as mine, turned to me.
“What’s up?” Leo asked as he pulled a hoodie on over his head.
“I’m heading out in about an hour.” I stepped forward and hugged Leo tightly. He hugged me back, using both arms – another noted difference between the twins. “Stay out of trouble.” I pulled back and ruffled a hand through his long, unkept hair.
When we were alone, my mom started pulling out the clothes stashed away in the box.
“I finally went through my closet again and got rid of everything that doesn’t fit or is too young for me.” She rolled her eyes dramatically like the idea she was too old for anything was outrageous. At fifty-two, my mother was still beautiful. The last five years had brought more lines to her face and her body had softened, but the light in her eyes and the determined and confident way she held herself was timeless.
Her clothes, however, were not.
“These are just the spring and summer items,” she said as she laid out a series of dresses that were circa the late nineties.
I smiled as I stepped toward the mountain of clothes. Lifting a long, pink sundress with large white and blue flowers, my mind skirted to our family photo album. A picture from my sixth-grade graduation where my mother wore this dress while sandwiched between me and my father flashed vividly in my mind.
Every piece of clothing told part of a story. Our story. And I inspected each article the same way, letting the memories of my mother standing beside me through important life events warm my insides.
Her scent clung to the fabrics and I lifted the dress to my face.
“Try this one on. It was my favorite.” She tossed a shorter blue dress with another floral pattern my way.
While I pulled the dress on over my tank and leggings, my mother continued to pick through clothes and lay them on the bed for my inspection. Trying on my mother’s worn and outdated clothes always transported me back to when I was younger. I’d sneak into her closet and rifle through each item, try on shoes or jewelry to make a complete outfit. I couldn’t wait for the day I’d be able to fit into my mother’s clothes and even though I’d been wearing her hand me downs for years now, it was still just as exciting every time she had new items for me.
“Hmm.” She considered me and the dress. “It’s a little big. You’re more petite than I ever was, but I could take it in a bit in the waist and shoulders.” Her hands pulled at the fabric to show me how it would look. “What do you think?”
I stared at my reflection in the floor length mirror of my parents’ bedroom. She was right, it was a little big, but making do was practically my life’s motto. “Not necessary. I’ll wear a belt with it.”
&nbs
p; “It’s really no big deal. The alterations are easy. I could pin it this afternoon and then mail it and any of the others you want.”
With an exaggerated gasp, I gripped the skirt of the dress in both hands. “No way. I want to wear this one back to school today.”
Her pleased smile was my reward.
I tossed a few other dresses over my shoulder and motioned toward the remaining clothes. “I’ll put the rest in my closet for this summer. These will be perfect for work.”
I leaned in and kissed her cheek before scooping everything into the box. I texted my roommate and best friend Tasha while I packed. A week in New York for Spring break had been amazing, but I missed my friend and our cozy apartment.
Me: My flight gets in at four. When do you get back?
Tasha: Just got in! Can’t wait to see you. I missed your face! Party at Todd’s tonight so get your dancing shoes on! No excuses!
Her excessive use of exclamations points was a good indicator of her state of mind. There would be no denying her tonight.
With a smile, I tucked my phone in my purse and glanced around my old room. The walls were a faded pink and Einstein and James Clerk Maxwell decorated the wall with their genius and inspiration. The girl that had pinned them to the wall had changed, but my love for math and science had not.
In just a few months I’d finally be able to move back to New York City and start applying everything I’d learned in school. I was ready, but I was beginning to feel the loss of my carefree college life. Not that it hadn’t been hard work maintaining grades and keeping up with the twenty thousand other students all vying for top spots. Still, I was allowed a certain sheltering from the real world. I could forget that I was from a low-income family whose parents hadn’t gone to college or held down fancy jobs. With Tasha as a roommate and friend, I felt normal for the first time in my life. She’d taken one look at me in our introduction to psychology class freshman year and told me she had my back. And she had. Still did.
The Tip-Off: A Smart Jocks Novel Page 20
