“I guess. Why?”
“That's Seb's frat.”
“Oh?” I blink, turning to look for Oliver, but only catch sight of his back disappearing in the throng of people, probably looking for innocent victims to flirt up a storm. I hope he won’t get into a fight again. Nicko’s twin brother had to save his skin last year at a Kappa Nu party and sported a black eye for a week after it. He’s been banned from their parties ever since.
“Must be a coincidence,” I mutter, because I doubt even Olli would be that brazen.
My stomach drops when Micah turns his cap around as he looks at the girls who are stretched out along the shoreline to sunbathe. I bite my tongue and use my frustration to spear the stand for our parasol into the sand. Of course Micah would wantto look at all the gorgeous women around. I have no business feeling irritated by it.
I push up the plunger to open up the flaps, groaning when the pole is so crusted with rust that it gets stuck every other inch. A second pair of hands pulls the spider-like contraption apart, carefully spreading the parasol farther so I can slide the clasp over the latch at the top.
“You’re welcome.” Micah grins at me before I can say anything. The sun filters through the flower-print fabric, bathing both of us in a reddish light. Although I can still hear all the noise around us, the small space under the parasol feels like a hideout.
Still, I resist the urge to reach out, merely allowing my eyes to wander from his down to his full lips.
“My hero.” I huff to break their pull on me, ducking out from under the parasol, and grab a chair. Sasha pushes the coolers into the shade, then posts up on the other folding chair. She shucks her shirt to apply sunscreen to her bare arms and toned shoulders. Another person who’s going to disappear any second to mingle with all these people.
I can already see myself sitting alone at our spot to guard the coolers when Olli resurfaces, this time with Davenport in tow.
The quarterback is decked out in fancy designer sunglasses and a Kappa Nu polo with its sleeves scrunched up to show off his impressive biceps. He’s twisting a ring on his right hand, but stops and crosses his tattooed arms in front of his chest when he catches me looking.
“Look who I found,” Olli announces, like the grumpy-faced guy is a great addition to our group. He inexplicably also summoned a volleyball from somewhere, twirling it between his hands. “Davenport and his guys are looking to get their asses handed to them. Are you up for it, Lind?”
Micah pulls his friend into one of those one-armed guy hugs. Somehow, Oliver seems to have planned out this entire day, andhe’s clearly expecting everything to go his way. Which is why I’m inclined to say no on principle, but Micah beats me to it.
“Sure!”
“If I wanted someone to steal all the attention, I’d have asked you outright, big guy.” Olli sticks his tongue out at Micah, throwing me a wink and then the ball. I bump it up so I can catch it.
“But I need a professional who’ll make me look good! Which is why I asked Lind.”
I roll my eyes, yet Iflush at the praise that’s hidden in Olli’s grandstanding. All this posturing between guys is ridiculous, and the last thing I want is to draw the attention of a crowd of frat guys. But I can also feel Micah regarding me curiously. His attention tickles the back of my neck as if he were close enough to breathe against my skin. If it means keeping his eyes on me instead of those sunbathing sorority girls, playing volleyball is definitely in the cards.
“Okay,” I say, lobbing the ball up for Olli to catch again. I kick my shoes off, but I keep my shirt on, then follow him across the sand.
I don’t play beach volleyball, but I doubt the two frat guys on the other side of the net are playinganyvolleyball. They look like typical football players; one of them wears one of those neon Speedos.
“Show us what you got,” Olli teases loudly as he throws them the ball. Grinning, he takes on a defensive stance to my left.
I sigh and hold out my arms in front of me, bending my knees. Olli plays in the D1-Volleyball Team of St. Bernard’s, so of course he can allow himself to be cocky. I’m only a D3 player and don’t really have the typical volleyball player's stature. But for setting or playing libero, I don’t need to be six feet tall.
Speedo guy smacks a decent serve, but Olli’s there in two quick steps. I turn to give him a set, only momentarily disorientedwhen the sun’s in my eyes. Unlike playing inside, there aren’t any points to orient myself toward, so it goes higher than intended. Luckily, Olli jumps like he has springs for legs.
He mercilessly delivers a spike that causes a gust of sand to explode right in front of our opponents’ feet.
A picture-perfect first point.
“That’s how it’s done!” Olli cheers, high-fiving me as he goes to serve. We handily win the first match, but there’s another team lining up right away. As we switch sides, I grimace, having to squint even more now that the sun is right in my eyes.
“One second,” I call over my shoulder as I jog over to Micah. He raises his eyebrows in question, but I merely reach up to steal his cap. “You don’t mind, do you?” I grin, already on my way back to the field, my eyes now shielded.
“Wow!” He laughs behind me, but I focus back on the game.
I find myself actually having fun. The guys on the other side vary in talent, but in each game, there are a few decent exchanges. After every match, we clap off at the net, Olli grinning at me broadly the more wins we rack up.
It’s near the end of a game against two more frat guys that I realize just how many spectators we’ve attracted. At first, there were only Micah and Davenport; now the sides are lined with people chanting and clapping. They cheer as a sloppy serve tangles in the net and only just tips over to Olli’s and my side. Both of us are running and stretching for it, but fall short, inches from the ball.
However, the crowd cries out just as loudly when I catch the next one, pancaking in the sand. Olli sets it, and I scramble up, passing into one of the corners of the opposite field.
