Eyeful (Gladiators of the Gridiron Book 2)

by C. R. Grissom

  “Why would someone I’ve never met do this for me?”

  “This is classic Everest. He’s a caretaker.” Faith raises her hands in a palms-up type shrug. She’s someone else who talks with her hands. “Caity’s post involves you and the team in an ugly kind of accusation that could stir up repercussions for the Gladiators. She’s escalating her particular brand of meanness, not content to simply harass TJ at the gym.”

  My jaw clenches at the thought of Caity going after Tiago.

  Faith takes another sip of her latte. “Everest issued the order to avoid blowback from Caity against TJ, and further mud-slinging at the team.”

  “Wow. I didn’t even think of that.”

  Faith nods. “She’s that kind of self-involved person who thinks the world owes her complete adoration.”

  My stomach cramps. “Self-centered much?”

  “Bullies don’t know when to stop. In a contest between Everest and Caity, the mountain will win. But Caity will make sure there’s collateral damage. Stopping her now protects you, too. TJ asked.”

  “Okay, wow.” He’s protecting me? Warmth spreads at the thought.

  Faith asks, “How do you feel about guacamole?”

  Talk about a non-sequitur. “Um. You can’t go wrong eating it with a spoon?”

  “Yes.” She pumps her fist. “I’m taking you to a little restaurant. I know the owner—Goose. One of his regular serving people moved out of state recently. He hasn’t found anyone to fill the spot yet. He’s picky about the people he brings on.”

  “Yes.” Now I pump my fist. “Lead the way.”

  Her face scrunches. “Uh. There is a catch.”

  I knew it. My happy feeling popped like a soap bubble I tried to catch with my hand. “What? I’ll do anything except nudity. I have to draw a line somewhere.”

  Faith snorts out a laugh. “No naked requests. Goose has a harebrained idea to drum up business.”

  My stomach twists. “What?”

  “He bought an avocado costume for one server to wear on shift. He’ll pay you to dance on the corner with an arrow pointing to the restaurant.”

  Crap. An avocado. I stand, and so does Faith. “How big is the pit?” I ask.

  She wraps her arm around me. “Not going to lie. You’ll look about six months pregnant.”

  “Just six? I can handle that. Nine and I’d have to say no.”

  “I like you, Phoebe. You’re a good egg.”

  “No.” I grin. “But I’ll make an excellent avocado.”

  Goose’s place is located about three blocks further down. Closer to Gladiator Colosseum than to the classroom buildings. We walk up to the triangular-shaped building with a thatched-hut front, and a bright sign declaring Goose’s Taco Shack.

  A handsome older gentleman steps out of the building to greet us. He’s wearing an untucked white button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled at the elbows and faded jeans. Brown hair, brown eyes and a face-splitting grin. “Faith. How are you?”

  “Terrific. I brought you a perfect avocado. Phoebe, meet Goose.”

  “You have experience?” he asks.

  “Not as a dancing avocado, but I worked in a deli for eighteen months.”

  “Since Faith vouches for you, you’re hired.”

  “I appreciate the opportunity.”

  Inside the small building, maybe sixteen to twenty people could cram at the small tables, but outside there’s a mix of picnic tables with long benches on either side or smaller four-tops with colorful umbrellas. We find an open table with a bright yellow umbrella and grab seats. Multicolor Christmas twinkle lights wind up the shaft of the pole to thread through the canopy providing a soft glow as the sun sinks lower on the horizon.

  It’s a little retro and a whole lot festive. I’m going to love working here—I can feel it. And I need money. Maybe I can find someone with an empty couch who needs help paying rent? “Thanks so much. I owe you big-time for this.”

  Faith shakes her head. “No, you don’t. But I’ll take an occasional side of guac and chips when you think of it. Goose’s shrimp tacos rock my world, too.”

  Goose brings us a basket of chips and a dish of guacamole. He drops an employee information sheet fastened to a clipboard on the table next to me. “Bring it inside when you’re done.”

  “Will do.”

  Goose walks back toward the shack, stopping at another table to check on customers.

  Faith leans in and asks, “Can I be nosy?”

  Unease settles between my shoulder blades. “Of course.”

  “You can choose not to answer. Promise.” She holds her pinkie up like she wants to swear on it.

  I curl my little finger around hers to complete the oath.

  She asks, “What’s happening between you and TJ?”

  “What do you mean?” I know I’m being deliberately obtuse with my stall tactic.

  “Seriously, despite the pinkie swear you don’t have to answer, but you get a certain look in your eye when his name comes up,” she cajoles.

  Huh? Tiago’s my friend. But expressing interest? That’s something else entirely, isn’t it? And then my inner critic pipes up. Do you want to have sex with all your friends? My face burns. Faith watches me closely, patiently waiting for my answer.

  “It’s complicated.” I blow out a breath. “I consider him a friend.”

  “You’re not into him?”

  How do I explain it? “He’s compassionate and gorgeous. That’s actually not a plus for me. Because that kind of hotness draws people like Caity and her handmaidens. He’s got a lot on his plate, but so do I. I’m not certain either of us has time to explore anything beyond friendship right now. If that makes sense?”

  Faith drags a tortilla chip through the bowl of guacamole. “Absolutely.” She closes her eyes as she chews. “God, that’s good.” She scoops up more guac on a second chip. “But we have direct evidence he does care because TJ involved the mountain.”

  “Someday I’ll need to meet this legend,” I say with a laugh.

  Faith nods. “Let’s make it happen.” She reaches for her phone and sends a quick text.

  “Oh wow.” I pile a tortilla chip high with guacamole. “What did you just do?” I ask Faith before stuffing the entire chip in my mouth.

  She takes another chip. “I summoned Everest.”

  “You can do that? I’m even more impressed by you.”

  She laughs. “I can. He’s a good friend of mine. And he happens to be hanging out with Caleb.”

  She makes it sound so easy. Friends who show up when you text. A boyfriend who cares. Some people have that kind of charisma. The kind that draws people in. The kind that makes people want to stay.

  Mine must consist of three-quarters human repellent, layers of loser, hints of pitiful, and whiffs of disaster. Geez. Cue the freaking violins.

  “Whatever you’re thinking? Stop right now. I recognize the look that just crossed your face. It reeks of inner self-critic.” She pats my hand. “Please don’t do that to yourself.”

  “How the hell do you know?”

  She holds her breath at the same time as she raises her index finger. “Sorry, I get stress-induced hiccups.” She takes another deep inhalation.

  I wait while Faith manages her breath. She’s a good person. I’m glad we have a class together. Otherwise, we probably wouldn’t have met. That would have been a crying shame because she tethers me. I marvel at that thought because we haven’t known each other all that long.

  “Okay. Since we are friends you’ll need a bit of my backstory. I haven’t always had many friends. In fact, until I came here, I could only count on my one friend: Kirsty. She lives outside Boston in our hometown. She’ll transfer here next school year.”

  I’m shocked. Faith seems to be so well connected at Fortis. I mean so many people know her, all signs point to an endless supply of friends. I can’t really grasp the Faith I’ve come to know as someone who didn’t always have an entire colosseum filled with people who
love her.

  “Caleb beaned me with a Frisbee on move-in day.” She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her face as she says it. “Then Everest barged in on my first date with Caleb. Friends pretty much grew from there.”

  “All in one week?”

  She nods. “Back home, before college, I had one friend. I was bullied from third grade on through high school. As a result, I have a loud and extremely harsh inner critic. Sometimes she wins, sometimes I win,” she says as she points at her outfit.

  I’m lost. She looks terrific. She’s wearing fitted jeans, a wine-colored T-shirt, and spotless white Vans high-tops. She’s got a body I’d love to have with curves in all the good places. “Umm. Maybe you left something out?”

  “Okay, you’re right. I’m being cryptic.” She grins.

  Faith tells me about her past, and I’m shocked the confident person in front of me has dealt with body shaming.

  “So,” she says. “I recognize the signs. Don’t listen to that voice.”

  “You’re right. Indulging in a pity party allows negativity to rule. Thanks for the reminder.” I take a breath. “My mom is responsible for my transfer out here. Not in a good way. But in a start fresh elsewhere way. I’m not ready to talk about her, but let me say I had to get away from all the negativity and start over.”

  “You’re going to find your way here, Phoebe. Regardless of Caity or anyone else who throws shade because you have friends who care and who’ll step up.”

  It feels good to have someone like Faith in my corner. Tiago, too. Because regardless of whatever else happens between us, he’s my friend. Warmth spreads from my chest up to my face. It’s not an embarrassed heat, it’s different. Maybe the kind you feel when someone says you belong.

  Faith makes eye contact. “I’m a good listener when or if you decide to talk about your mom. But if you’d rather talk to someone impartial, I volunteer at Teen Space, a center for LGBTQIA+ at-risk kids. The counselors are excellent and they never turn anyone from Fortis away.”

  Wow. She’s the real deal. “Thanks.”

  Stuffing another chip in my mouth, I notice a massive male-type person sneak up behind Faith. I’m still chewing, and I can’t warn her before he leans down and scoops her up, chair and all. She lets out a surprised, “Oof.”

  My lips part and half-chewed food drops to the ground at my feet.

  Faith says, “You’ve got to stop doing this crap.”

  “Lola, why would I stop when it’s my favorite thing?”

  Huh. Lola? An obvious inside joke or nickname. I’m not sure whether this Goliath is her boyfriend or not. The guy currently juggling Faith about four feet in the air is spectacular. He reminds me of the cartoon version of Hercules. His light coppery hair catches the waning sunlight, and it appears to burn with hints of fire around his skull like a halo. Damn.

  Since Faith doesn’t seem to need me to call nine-one-one, I quickly scrape up the half-chewed mess that dropped to the ground in a napkin. Because, hello, how embarrassing.

  He smiles at me before setting Faith and her chair safely on the cement. He’s wearing charcoal-gray joggers and a gold-colored T-shirt with Gladiator football screen-printed in black lettering across the front. The sleeves stretch around his huge biceps, and I wonder how the fabric doesn’t rip from the strain. “You must be Phoebe.”

  “I am. Are you the mountain?”

  “Eric McBride, but everyone calls me Everest.” His smile spreads. “Nice to finally meet you.”

  “Finally?” Huh. What an odd thing to say.

  Before I’m allowed to dissect his words to decode their meaning, he drags a seat over to our table and plops into it. “If you have me, you want to share me. If you share me, you haven’t got me. What am I?”

  Faith snorts. “Everest loves riddles.”

  I’d envisioned a total jock, a tad more muscle than substance. I’m embarrassed to realize my mistake. I wasn’t even close. Even though his question takes me by surprise, the answer pops into my brain. “A secret.”

  “Okay, we’re getting somewhere now. Faith has excellent skills. She collects the most interesting friends.”

  “Collects?” Faith swats his elbow. “You make me sound like a serial killer.”

  “No, you’re a magnet,” he tells her.

  “Is this another one of your riddles?” Faith asks.

  I happen to agree. “It’s your charisma, sense of humor, and the way you treat people. People flock to you.”

  She places her hand over her heart. “Thank you, what a nice thing to say.”

  “Truth,” Everest says.

  Color spreads up Faith’s neck and into her cheeks. “Enough about me. Phoebe wanted to meet the legend.”

  He grins. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  It’s such an over-the-top thing to say even if that statement is based in fact. The weird thing about Everest is that he doesn’t sound like a conceited brat. It’s almost as though he’s poking fun at himself.

  Everest says, “I’ve heard so little about you. Fill in the blanks.”

  I glance at Faith. She’s squinting at him with her left eyebrow raised. “Should she start with first grade and work her way to the present?”

  “Please.” I groan.

  He laughs. The sound makes my lips curve. He has one of those laughs that’s contagious.

  “I’m not that interesting. I’m a transfer from University of the Desert Oasis, and I’m here to study forensic accounting.” I gesture to Faith. “We met in class.”

  “How did you meet TJ? At Pump It Fit or Fortis?”

  Okay, here we go. I wonder if I’m talking to the football captain equivalent of The Godfather, and whether or not I’ll have to kiss his ring or get dragged out of his presence at the end of this inquisition.

  He’s waiting for my answer so I give in. “At the gym the day I became a member. The first week of school.”

  “Excellent. TJ can use more people on his team right now.”

  “Why now? Did something besides Caity happen?” Faith asks.

  Everest shakes his head. “Not my story to tell. TJ doesn’t share his personal playbook with many. It’s more of a vibe I’m getting off him.” He looks straight at me. “It’s cool you two are hitting it off.”

  Faith says, “You’re getting dangerously close to sounding like a swipe-up-loud real-life matchmaker.”

  “Not me.” He checks his watch. “Just getting a picture.”

  “Are we boring you?” Faith asks, her humor plain.

  He shoots her a smile that would sell whatever product he pointed at. That grin could make any company wads of cash with Everest as their spokesman. But oddly enough, it’s a pair of golden eyes belonging to a certain placekicker that has my head and hormones going berserk.

  “No,” Everest says answering Faith’s question. “I asked CW to pick something up for me after you sent your text.”

  Great. We interrupted his evening. Now I feel awful. “I hope you didn’t change your plans to show up here.”

  “This is better than what I had planned. Are you coming to the game Saturday?”

  Both sets of eyes pin me to some imaginary setting board like I’m a butterfly with a particularly interesting wing pattern. “What happens if I say no?”

  “Total and complete disappointment. My focus will fracture without you there to cheer me on.”

  Faith says, “Ha. You’re so full of…”

  Everest admonishes, “Hey now.”

  I grin. “I was under the impression I should go to cheer on the entire team, perhaps be extra loud to support field goals or PATs?”

  “Okay, fine. Come for the whole team.”

  Someone remarks, “Everest, that sounds dirty,” and joins us.

  “Phoebe, let me introduce you to CW, who stands to your left. And Gabe, our team statistician, on the right.”

  Caleb, brown hair with eyes a particular shade of blue they’re almost teal wears all black. Wearing athletic shorts and T-shirt wit
h the Gladiator helmet and the words Honor is My Shield in white. Gabe also has dark hair. He’s cute in a non-traditional sense with his ancient army-green cargo shorts and a graying Ramones T-shirt fraying at the neck.

  “Hi.” I nod at the newcomers.

  Caleb could get a modeling contract if he chose. For that matter, Everest could as well. It’s kind of a hormonal overload when the power of these men take up space.

  “Everest, I thought you crushed the post?” Gabe jokes. “Is there still talk about Phoebe taking on the entire team?” He winks at me.

  Soda sprays from Faith’s mouth.

  I snort out a laugh at Gabe’s comment because he’s clearly teasing me.

  Behind me, a voice belonging to what sounds like a pissed-off Portuguese male says, “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

  “What the…” I stammer. Talk about taking something completely out of context. I turn halfway in my seat to stare at Tiago, who joins our circle wearing black joggers and a white T-shirt with the Pump It Fit logo.

  Everest simply nods at Tiago while folding his hands.

  “Relax, TJ.” Faith wipes her mouth with a napkin as Caleb moves a chair next to hers. “It’s not what you think.”

  Tiago remains rooted in place. Unmoving.

  I decide to address the lion that just roared at every breathing thing at the watering hole. “Talk about opening your mouth and shoving your size-twelve cleat inside,” I joke.

  Tiago shakes his head. “Yeah, hilarious. People on campus think she’s a slut, but go ahead and make jokes.”

  “Newsflash, I didn’t feel sex-shamed until now. Thanks for that.”

  Turning toward Everest, I say, “Appreciate the assist. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. Caleb, Gabe, you two as well. Faith, we’ll talk later. Gabe, take my seat. Have a great evening, everyone.”

  I grab the clipboard with the employee sheet and step away from the table. I do my best to measure my stride so I don’t broadcast the fact I’m pissed at Tiago for his ugly little reminder. I head inside the restaurant to fill out the sheet and get myself out of here. Away from this scene. Away from Tiago.