Page 36 of The Keeper
“Well since you referred to him as, and I quote ‘sexist, patriarchal and derogatory’ in class last week, I’m pretty sure I should take offense to that statement.”
I let out a short laugh.
“You remember that, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I drop to the ground in front of the bench and begin stretching. “I’m not sure Markson would go for that. She might see it as cliché or something. And I don’t want her to think we’re looking for some gimmick for a grade.”
Thomas gives a little shrug, his eyes trained on the ball he is bouncing from knee to knee.
“Couldn’t hurt to ask. Besides, I think it would only benefit us to work together, even a little bit.”
I spread my legs and do my best to lay my stomach flat on the ground between them, stretching the muscles on the inside of my thighs and lower back. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a group approaching through one of the tunnels at the bottom of the stadium. Time to get this scrimmage going.
“How do you figure?”
Thomas catches the ball and looks at me, tucking the ball in against his hip.
“Verbally sparring with you is my favorite thing about the classes we’ve taken together over the past few years. I always take something new away from discussion groups when you’re there.”
I smile slightly at the compliment. I’d never thought about it like that before, but reflecting now, I usually did enjoy those classes the most. Even if I usually wanted to wring Thomas’ neck.
“Yeah, I guess I know what you mean.”
I hear the voices of our teammates behind us, as they drop their duffle bags and begin to get ready. Thomas smiles again.
“Besides, I’ve been looking for a way to spend some one-on-one time with you for a while.”
My mouth falls open and I’m unsure how to respond. He wants to spend time with me? Since when? But before I can formulate a coherent thought, I hear a laugh behind me.
“Finally putting the moves on our girl after pining away for too long, huh Moore?”
My head whips around and I see Thomas’ co-captain, Will Steiner, grinning ear to ear just a few feet away. My face flushes as I take in the fact that everyone standing around us has likely heard what Thomas said, and most definitely heard Will’s comment. I stand quickly, hoping that moving away from the physical space I was just inhabiting will remove the feeling of uneasiness settling into my body.
It doesn’t.
“Cut the shit, Steiner,” Thomas grits out. I quickly glance back at him and see him glaring at Will. “Sorry, RJ.” His face has morphed into something akin to relief and embarrassment at the same time.
“It’s cool,” I mumble, turning away and grabbing my water bottle.
As I take a sip, I spot Mack a few feet away, his mouth in a thin line as he stares at his clipboard. Hopefully he isn’t going to allow our interactions yesterday to impact today, but the look on his face as he begins to write angrily doesn’t bode well.
I try to push the question away and take a quick lap around the stadium to get warmed up and clear my head. The comments from Thomas and Will have completely blindsided me.
Part of me is flattered that a guy as stunning as Thomas Moore would be interested in me. He’s classically handsome. Short blond hair, strong jaw, baby blue eyes. He’s really smart, too, and we alwaysdidget into little arguments in class that left me riled up. Apparently they left him turned on.
Men are so weird.
If this had happened last week, before I met Mack, I might have felt something apart from just flattery. Maybe. Would I have entertained the idea of getting to know Thomas better? Spending more time with him? Can I even objectively answer that question now that I know how it feels to have my heart pound so hard it feels like it might slam out of my chest?
And probably the most difficult question that I don’t have the answer to: am I using the idea of my emotional connection with Mack as just another way to push away a guy?
When I make it back to the bench where everyone has gathered, I’m no closer to answering any of those questions. But I do know that I can’t allow my interest in Mack to impact other relationships, platonic or not. I like Thomas’ idea of teaming together for our presentations in December. The more I think about it, I decide it is a thoughtful approach, and pairing our work together will provide a depth our other classmates might not be able to reach, possibly something that will get Markson to write me a stellar letter of recommendation for grad school.
I see Thomas chatting with Will and a few of the other guys from his team at centerfield. I take a quick jog out, calling out to Thomas as I approach. He takes a step away from the group and meets me.
“I’m sorry about Will,” he starts. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut and you don’t have to…”
