Skyler
Jess is unusually quiet as we strip off our sweaty costumes and throw them on our bedroom floor. She keeps alternating between a goofy smile and a twisted look of confusion.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on in that blonde head of yours?”
Jess startles at my words as if I’m pulling her back to reality. “What?”
I quirk a brow. “Care to explain why you’re blushing with only me in the room?”
Jess’s cheeks shade deeper but she just jumps up into her bed, pulling the sheets up high. “I’m not blushing. I’m still hot from dancing.”
I eye her warily, but don’t push it. “And yet you’re climbing into your clean bed?”
“I’ll shower in the morning.”
“Okay,” I say, chuckling. My phone buzzes and I’m surprised when I see my dad’s picture light up the screen. Excusing myself to the bathroom, I answer.
“Hey Pops. A little past your bedtime isn’t it?”
“You’re on the news!”
My stomach drops. “What?”
“Well, okay, not exactly the news – but a big blog wrote an article and you’re featured in it!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Check your email.”
Just as he says the words, my phone pings in my ear and I pull it away long enough to pull up the new email from Dad. Sure enough, it links to an article from a large poker blog about the top five hottest women in poker.
And I’m number three.
“Whoa,” is all I can say as I read through the small amount of verbiage under my picture.
It talks briefly about the tournaments I’ve won in the past before complimenting me for my most recent win – the tournament Tuesday night.
The rest talks about how “smoking hot” I look even in a hoodie and glasses, which makes me roll my eyes.
“Can you believe it?” Dad asks, still excited.
“I mean, it’s just an article talking about how attractive I am. I don’t know how to feel about it.”
Dad scoffs. “Look past that, Sky. The fact that they even know who you are is huge.” He pauses and I can almost feel him smiling through the phone. “You’re really doing it, girl. You’re making it.”
I read over the article again. “It is kind of cool, isn’t it?”
“Hell yes!” Dad beams. “That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you. And just wait, they won’t be talking about your looks for long once they realize just how good you are at the game.”
“We’ll see, Dad.”
There’s another pause before he speaks again. “Thank you, Skyler. Thank you for sending that money… and for always looking out for us.” I feel the worry radiate off him and permeate through the phone. “We should be the ones taking care of you.”
“Stop,” I say, not allowing him to continue.
“You always have taken care of me. It’s okay to let me help out a little now.
” I smile, thinking of how my parents were the only real friends I had up until Palm South.
“Besides, you’re going to get that promotion soon and then you can take me out to dinner. ”
“It’s a date, baby girl.”
“I love you, Dad. Night.”
“Night.”
I thumb through the article once more, sizing up the other girls mentioned. I’ve heard of every single one of them and the fact that my name is even in the same list as them floors me. Suddenly, my phone buzzes again.
Adam.
“Miss me already?” I ask playfully.
“Actually, yes. Plus, I realized we need to celebrate you winning that tournament Tuesday night.”
“Um, didn’t we kind of already do that tonight?”
“I suppose, but the night is still young, right?”
I glance at the clock and laugh when I see it’s just past three in the morning. “Uh…”
“Just go with it. Come downstairs.”
With that, the line goes dead and I’m left shaking my head. Adam Brooks is something else.
I pull on a pair of gym shorts and a PSU tank top before sneaking down the stairs and outside.
Adam has changed out of his costume and into a relaxed pair of basketball shorts and t-shirt, yet he still looks just as yummy as he did earlier.
Leaning against the pillar of our house, his bright smile is illuminated by the moon and his eyes sparkle as he watches me approach.
“Ever gone banner diving before?” he asks.
“Uh… can’t say that I have.”
“Well, there’s a first for everything.”
Every house on Greek row has at least two posts where “banners”, AKA bed sheets with text and images on them, hang.
Usually, the banners advertise an upcoming event or wish a sister or brother a happy birthday.
When Adam explains to me that we’re going to be diving into them and tearing them down, I pull back.
“What? We can’t do that!” I whisper, as if anyone on the completely empty street would hear me. “That’s… vandalism. Or something.”
He chuckles, his dark eyes still shining in the moonlight. “I didn’t peg you for a good girl.”
I purse my lips. “I’m just saying. It’s rude.”
“Kind of. But wouldn’t you love to see the look on the Zetas’ faces when they see their precious banner shredded in half?” He’s got a point there, I really don’t like the Zetas. And what the hell? It’s just sheets, not like we’re throwing bricks at car windows or anything.
“Screw it,” I say and then I take off running down the street and dive straight into one of the Zeta banners proclaiming that their sister should be the Alpha Sig Sweetheart.
Adam tries to quiet his laughter as I bounce back off the sheet instead of tearing through it like I’d imagined.
My laughter, on the other hand, is incredibly loud and awkward.
When a light flickers on downstairs in the Zeta house, Adam and I both snap our necks in that direction.
“Oh shit,” I say, scrambling to pull myself up. Adam pokes fun at me trying to hobble away before he scoops me up in his arms and conceals us behind tall scrub bushes near the edge of their yard.
The Zeta house mom appears on the front porch, straining her neck to look both ways before shrugging and retreating back inside the house. Adam and I both die in a fit of laughter and then I realize how close we are. His arms are still wrapped around me, our mouths are just inches apart.
Adam lifts his fingers to cradle my chin before pulling me in for a long, soft kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that doesn’t make me want to go jump in the sack, but rather cuddle up to watch a movie. It’s sweet.
It’s nice.
We spend the rest of the night doing absolutely nothing yet talking about everything.
We walk all around campus, get into places we’re not supposed to, and even play ding-dong-ditch at a few of the dorm rooms. When the sun starts rising, he drops me back off at the house with another long kiss and then I fall into bed completely exhausted, but happy nonetheless.
Maybe Adam Brooks isn’t just a fun hookup.
Maybe.