added, "You guys want to go have a
coke or something after I clean up?"
"Sure!" Rihanna answered for both
of us. When Drew had continued down the passageway, I looked at her curiously.
"He can't drink during the
season," she explained. Fine, then, we'd have a coke.
"Ri," I said, staring at Drew's broad
back and short hair. Even from the back, he looked built like a weight-lifter,
his deltoids and lats rippling under his Utes t-shirt as he walked.
"Yeah?"
"Um, never mind," I said. Rihanna’s
eyes followed my line of sight.
"Oh. Yeah, he's seriously hot,"
she said, shrugging.
"So, what's wrong with him?" I
asked.
"Nothing! What gave you that
idea?" Bristling, Ri was ready to defend the smoking-hot Drew.
"You aren't dating him?" I
ventured.
"Ew! That would be like dating my
brother. Seriously, I've known him since nursery school. Believe me, there's no
spark, but there's abso-fuckin-lutely nothing wrong with him." Rihanna’s
voice had risen, and Drew looked back at us.
"Wrong with who?" he asked.
"No one. We'll get a table, you get
the cokes," she answered.
I actually didn't want a coke, but if Drew
was buying, I wasn't going to make an issue of it. He came back to the table
with a tray that was laden with three large cups of soda and a huge tray of
French fries with cheese melted all over them.
"Hope you girls are hungry," he
said.
Rihanna dug in and brought up a handful of
soggy fries, stringing cheese across the table to her mouth. Slightly repulsed,
I watched her with horrified fascination, taking in the change in her
expression as she bit into the gooey mess.
"Have some, Janey, it's manna of the
gods."
"Um, no thanks," I said, sipping
at my coke. "It looks a little messy."
"What's wrong with messy?" Drew
grinned, as he scooped some up, too. "C'mon, try it. You'll love it."
Reluctantly, I dipped my fingers in, doing
my best not to get melted cheese on them. I managed to snag just a couple of
fries, with a little cheese on them, and bring them to my mouth. I'm sure my
eyes popped nearly out of my skull at the first delicious taste.
"Omigod," I said, unconsciously
echoing one of Ri's favorite expressions. "I can't believe how fabulous
this is. Where have you been all my life?" I addressed the fries.
Drew laughed, a great booming sound that
echoed off the walls and ceiling and drew stares from people all around us.
"Why haven't you ever tasted them before?" he asked.
With a quelling look at Rihanna, I shook my
head. "Just never got around to it," I said.
We finished the cheese fries in record time
and before they were gone, we were all laughing like maniacs. Drew was a very
likable character, not at all the snobbish elite athlete that characterized the
football team. When Rihanna started talking about his NBA potential, he put a
stop to it quickly.
"Hey, kiddo, that's only if I'm very
lucky and the Utes have a couple of winning seasons. I'm too small for the NBA,
so it's going to really take luck."
I goggled at him. Too small? He was at
least six-foot-six, and built, as the cowboys would say, like a brick
shithouse. Or, maybe that was only for girls and there was a more appropriate
word for guys. Whatever, Drew was just as shredded from the front view as the
back. I wanted to ask him if he worked out, but some measure of common sense
told me I'd sound like a complete idiot if I did. There was no question that he
worked out. I remembered his quick transition from one end of the court to the
other and wondered if his legs showed the same kind of muscle definition. I
knew his calves did, but the long basketball shorts hid his thighs. Thinking of
thighs made me remember Justin's between mine, and I blushed, apropos of
nothing.
Drew stopped talking and looked at me as
the slow flush climbed my neck into my face. I was looking anywhere but at him,
hoping he hadn't noticed, and that he had said something that would account for
it, but truthfully, I didn't know what he'd just said.
Ri looked from Drew to
coke or something after I clean up?"
"Sure!" Rihanna answered for both
of us. When Drew had continued down the passageway, I looked at her curiously.
"He can't drink during the
season," she explained. Fine, then, we'd have a coke.
"Ri," I said, staring at Drew's broad
back and short hair. Even from the back, he looked built like a weight-lifter,
his deltoids and lats rippling under his Utes t-shirt as he walked.
"Yeah?"
"Um, never mind," I said. Rihanna’s
eyes followed my line of sight.
"Oh. Yeah, he's seriously hot,"
she said, shrugging.
"So, what's wrong with him?" I
asked.
"Nothing! What gave you that
idea?" Bristling, Ri was ready to defend the smoking-hot Drew.
"You aren't dating him?" I
ventured.
"Ew! That would be like dating my
brother. Seriously, I've known him since nursery school. Believe me, there's no
spark, but there's abso-fuckin-lutely nothing wrong with him." Rihanna’s
voice had risen, and Drew looked back at us.
"Wrong with who?" he asked.
"No one. We'll get a table, you get
the cokes," she answered.
I actually didn't want a coke, but if Drew
was buying, I wasn't going to make an issue of it. He came back to the table
with a tray that was laden with three large cups of soda and a huge tray of
French fries with cheese melted all over them.
"Hope you girls are hungry," he
said.
Rihanna dug in and brought up a handful of
soggy fries, stringing cheese across the table to her mouth. Slightly repulsed,
I watched her with horrified fascination, taking in the change in her
expression as she bit into the gooey mess.
"Have some, Janey, it's manna of the
gods."
"Um, no thanks," I said, sipping
at my coke. "It looks a little messy."
"What's wrong with messy?" Drew
grinned, as he scooped some up, too. "C'mon, try it. You'll love it."
Reluctantly, I dipped my fingers in, doing
my best not to get melted cheese on them. I managed to snag just a couple of
fries, with a little cheese on them, and bring them to my mouth. I'm sure my
eyes popped nearly out of my skull at the first delicious taste.
"Omigod," I said, unconsciously
echoing one of Ri's favorite expressions. "I can't believe how fabulous
this is. Where have you been all my life?" I addressed the fries.
Drew laughed, a great booming sound that
echoed off the walls and ceiling and drew stares from people all around us.
"Why haven't you ever tasted them before?" he asked.
With a quelling look at Rihanna, I shook my
head. "Just never got around to it," I said.
We finished the cheese fries in record time
and before they were gone, we were all laughing like maniacs. Drew was a very
likable character, not at all the snobbish elite athlete that characterized the
football team. When Rihanna started talking about his NBA potential, he put a
stop to it quickly.
"Hey, kiddo, that's only if I'm very
lucky and the Utes have a couple of winning seasons. I'm too small for the NBA,
so it's going to really take luck."
I goggled at him. Too small? He was at
least six-foot-six, and built, as the cowboys would say, like a brick
shithouse. Or, maybe that was only for girls and there was a more appropriate
word for guys. Whatever, Drew was just as shredded from the front view as the
back. I wanted to ask him if he worked out, but some measure of common sense
told me I'd sound like a complete idiot if I did. There was no question that he
worked out. I remembered his quick transition from one end of the court to the
other and wondered if his legs showed the same kind of muscle definition. I
knew his calves did, but the long basketball shorts hid his thighs. Thinking of
thighs made me remember Justin's between mine, and I blushed, apropos of
nothing.
Drew stopped talking and looked at me as
the slow flush climbed my neck into my face. I was looking anywhere but at him,
hoping he hadn't noticed, and that he had said something that would account for
it, but truthfully, I didn't know what he'd just said.
Ri looked from Drew to
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