Page 8 of Rise Above

Rise Above

she wasn’t entirely sure she should be there. The most surprising thing was she was the only woman out here. My eyebrow quirked up. Was she any good?

Zeke nudged me, drawing my eyes away from the

woman and to him. “Davis is headed this way.”

Davis had played hockey with us in college. He was

an athletic guy but clearly had no passion for sports, at least not after his injury. He’d been a halfway decent center, but there was no real drive to his game after he got hurt. That was okay. Not everyone had the ambition to play sports professionally, but Davis did love school. It was probably why he was pursuing a PhD in education and social work, I think. The man was wicked smart and also a good friend. Somehow, he’d weaseled his way into my heart.

“Wow.” Davis fist bumped us both. He was not a

hugger. “You rooting for me or Jefferson?” He pointed his thumb in the vague direction of the baseball player.

“Both.” Zeke shrugged. “Who brought the chick?” Davis shook his head. He’d always hated the

numerous nicknames Zeke had for women. “I did. Trust me, you’ll understand soon enough.” He fist bumped us again before heading back to his side of the field.

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Davis’s words rang in my ears because I couldn’t

keep my eyes off the blonde woman. She was fast, had good ball control, and an eye for the game. She chose to play defense and had quickly proved her skill. She was aggressive, unafraid to push the boys around and get dirty. At one point, she’d even knocked Jefferson on his ass. With her on their team, it really was no surprise the grad students were winning. Her competitiveness was unmatched.

Her movements were so fluid; she’d clearly been

playing for years and competitively at that. I hated how my eyes constantly drifted to her even when she wasn’t near the ball. I felt flustered in a way I never had felt. Blinking hard, I forced myself to look at the game. The grad students were kicking the undergrad’s asses, and I genuinely felt it had to do with this woman.

“You’re staring, TJ,” Zeke said loudly.

I looked over at him to see him wearing a smirk.

“How are you not?”

“Oh, I am.” He laughed. “You’re just not usually so

pulled in by a girl. Of the entire team, you ignore women and hell, even other men, the best.”

I shrugged. Zeke was right. I wasn’t a one-night

stand or relationship type of guy, not anymore. Sure, sex was great, but the last woman I had been with completely soured my attitude toward women and any kind of relationship. My life was mine, and I was careful who I shared it with. That woman had been a mistake—an extremely public one. I didn’t want to get involved with anyone, so I chose to play into my silent, brooding stereotype and continued to ignore any and all sexual or 26

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relational offers. However, I still looked, especially people I found attractive. Like the blonde woman.

“Not that I’m blaming you. She’s fucking talented!

Her ball control is unreal.” Zeke motioned at her most recent play. “She could be on the national team.”

The game ended with one final goal from the

woman in question. It was a spectacular shot from the top corner of the goal box, and the shot had left both mine and Zeke’s mouths dropped. She truly was talented. Why wasn’t she playing professionally?

Jefferson jogged over to us, a frown on his face. He