The Pass (Smart Jocks Book 5)

by Rebecca Jenshak

  “Bet you can’t do it again.” He rebounds the ball and walks it to me. His light brown hair and blue eyes look darker in the shadowed room.

  When I reach out to take it, he holds on, the tips of our fingers touching. A fluttering in my stomach reminds me I had a purpose for the evening and unfortunately it isn’t getting friendly with Tanner Shaw. My competitive side really wants to make him eat his words.

  “I should get back to my teammates.”

  “You sure?” It doesn’t seem like he’s asking me because he doesn’t want to leave, but because he doesn’t believe I really want to.

  And I don’t. Basketball may not be my first love, but I miss it. I gave it up in high school to focus on volleyball. While Tanner makes it look easy juggling more than one sport, it’s almost impossible for anyone to do it and be successful at either, let alone both.

  “I’m sure. Tonight is supposed to be about team building, getting Chloe and the new freshmen into the fold.”

  He nods slowly. “I get that.”

  After racking the ball, he leads me out of the gym and back downstairs. We get fresh drinks and I think he’s going to leave me, but instead he follows me back to the group.

  “Hey,” Chloe says, looking happy I’ve returned. She’s the real reason I need to be out here. Chloe is a senior transfer who came to Valley after a scandal at her last university. I’ve avoided reading any of the headlines myself, but from the gossip, I know her parents paid to get her in. There are also rumors that they made sure she played, but her performance speaks for itself—she’s one of the best collegiate beach volleyball players in the country.

  The girls on the team, mainly our captain Bri, are dead set on shunning her, but I like Chloe. She’s rooming with Emily, Bri, and me, and so far everything I’ve seen from her has been genuine. She hasn’t given me any reason to dislike her, and she works harder at practice than anyone. I appreciate a good work ethic.

  So, tonight is about letting the rest of the team get a glimpse of the real Chloe. Tanner Shaw wasn’t on the agenda, but I can’t say I’m disappointed I finally got to meet him.

  When I saw him in our shared communications class, I thought that was going to be my opening, but he hasn’t so much as glanced my way until tonight. Dresses for the win again.

  “Be right back,” Tanner whispers in my ear. His warm breath sends a new host of goose bumps racing over my skin.

  I take a seat, half-listening to the conversation around me as I watch Tanner navigate around the party. He’s stopped every couple of steps by someone calling to him—guys and girls. The hot pink trunks he’s wearing make me smile. They’ve got little alligators all over them. Not a lot of guys would dare try to pull off hot pink, but he does and pulling them off he is. I love that he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

  His body is lean and muscular. He has a great back and his ass… a real work of art. He leans over, giving me a really good view of said artwork, and I sigh. Emily shoots me a weird look.

  I attempt to make my staring a little less obvious as I continue to watch Tanner grab his T-shirt from a chair and pull it on. He glances back at me and a slow smile pulls at his lips.

  As he walks through the party, across the large back yard, I can’t take my eyes off him. And his gaze only diverts from me when someone speaks to him. I’ve never had this sort of instant chemistry with someone. Or instant as soon as he noticed me.

  I mean, I’ve been into the guy for more than a year, ever since I stepped onto the Valley U campus and first saw him. He’d been at The Hideout, a local restaurant and bar, with a group of basketball players. That was the first time, and since then, it feels like he’s everywhere I turn. My body is highly tuned to Tanner Shaw.

  When he reaches our group, he goes around my chair and drops into the small space behind me. His shoulder rests against my back and I lean into him.

  “What’d I miss?”

  “Oh, uh…” I can’t very well admit I haven’t been listening. “Not much. Nice trunks, by the way.”

  He looks down. “You like? My sister picked these out.”

  Tanner is better at following the conversation than I am. Yet somehow he still makes me feel special. A brush of his fingertips against mine, a whispered comment where only I can hear, the constant contact of his body against mine. There’s nothing overtly sexual about any of his touches, but I am so keyed up that I barely notice the hours fly by.

  Much sooner than I’d like, the girls are fading. Chloe yawns and it sets off a domino effect.

  “We should probably go. Sydney and I have an eight o’clock class in the morning,” Chloe says.

  “Me too,” Em agrees and stretches.

  I groan. I know they’re right, it’s time to go, but I’m afraid that after tonight, things will go back to how they were before where Tanner doesn’t notice me.

  We all stand and start walking toward the house.

  “Hey, wait,” Tanner says before I’m through the door.

  I fall back and let the rest of my teammates go ahead.

  “Can I get your number?”

  Hesitating, I wonder what the right move is. Am I being too eager if I give him my number? The last guy I jumped into things too quickly with stopped calling after I slept with him on our second date.

  But do I really want to blow my chance with Tanner?

  “How about you give me your number?” I suggest.

  He smirks but takes my phone as I hold it out to him. He punches in his number and hands it back, holding on when I try to pull it away. “You’re going to call, right?”

  “Sydney!” Emily shouts ahead of me.

  “I have to go.” He lets go of my phone and I take a step. “I’ll see you in class.”

  “Are you almost ready?” Emily asks, sticking her head into my room. Her brows furrow. “Did you change?”

  “The other shirt was wrinkled.” Not untrue but normally I couldn’t care less about what I look like for classes. Is it a coincidence that the first time Tanner noticed me was when I was in a dress and not my everyday clothes of shorts and a T-shirt? I’m guessing not.

  It’s been two days since he gave me his number and so far I’ve just stared at it a lot trying to decide what to do with it. Having the power, as it turns out, is a lot of responsibility.

  “Well, let’s go. We have five minutes to get across campus.”

  I grab my backpack and swipe a tube of lip gloss off my desk. Good enough. My first class of the day is speech. We’re doing three-minute introduction speeches this week, but Emily and I have already gone, so I take my seat and zone out thinking about Tanner while others take their turn.

  Fifty minutes has never gone by so slowly. I’m the first to the door when the professor dismisses us. Emily stretches her long legs to catch me. “What is up with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  Her smile starts small and widens before she erupts in laughter. “You’re legit running to get to class to see Shaw.”

  I slow my pace. “Am not.”

  This makes her laugh harder. It’s no secret that I have a thing for Tanner Shaw, but I thought I’d played it cool enough that my friends couldn’t see just how crazy he makes me.

  “You are. Slow down. Let him get to class first for a change. That way you can walk in front of him.” She exaggerates her steps, swaying her hips from side to side and then flipping her blonde curls.

  I give her a death stare and she nudges me with her elbow. “What happened with you two the other night?”

  “Nothing really. He showed me the gym, we played basketball, and then you were there for the rest.”

  “That’s it?” She seems disappointed. Me too, girl. Me too.

  “He asked for my number.”

  Her eyes widen. “Did he text?”

  “I didn’t give it to him, but I got his.”

  “Wait.” She stops. “He asked for your number and you told him no? Are you crazy? You’ve been completely hung up on this guy for over a
year.”

  Okay, so obviously I haven’t played it cool.

  “If I’d given him my number and he hadn’t called I’d be disappointed or worse, sitting around waiting and hoping he’d call. This way I have the power.” Power I now realize that I don’t want.

  “I guess. So, what did you say when you texted him?”

  “I haven’t yet.”

  “Oh.” She blows out a breath. “Why not? He isn’t the kind of guy you play hard to get with.”

  We fall back into step heading to our communications class. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that I’ve screwed this up. Tanner can get any girl he wants. Excited, eager girls who don’t hesitate when he asks for their number.

  My stomach is queasy when we push into the auditorium and I spot Tanner in his usual seat. I stare at my feet as Emily and I pass by, but I can feel the moment his gaze lands on me. I can’t help it. I look up and meet his stare. He smiles and a little bit of the uneasiness fades.

  Professor Sanchez starts just as I sit. I steal another quick glance at Tanner, his eyes still on me, and then pull out my notebook and my phone.

  I start out jotting down notes for the group project that was assigned last class, but five minutes in, I’m scrolling through my phone and looking for Tanner in my contacts. When I find him, I click on his number and create a new message.

  Me: Hey, it’s Sydney.

  Power reassigned.

  Setting my phone down, I don’t dare look back to see if he’s checking his phone. Maybe he doesn’t even bring it to—

  My heart skips when a new message lights up the screen.

  Tanner: Hey! Forty-eight hours... I thought you were never going to text.

  Me: More like thirty-three hours.

  Tanner: Thirty-three too many. What are you up to tonight? Want to hang out?

  It feels like we’re volleying back and forth and I just want him to keep the ball on his side of the net. I’m not usually one to back down or shy away from a good back and forth, but Tanner makes me feel all spun up and out of sorts. I’m too into him and I really hate that.

  Me: Free after practice. Sounds fun.

  Tanner: Shit, I forgot we have a team dinner tonight. Maybe this weekend?

  Me: Maybe.

  3

  Tanner

  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.”