He agrees with a head bob and another quiet chuckle and goes back to focusing on the basketball goal.

“Peanut butter or jelly?”

“Both.”

“That’s cheating. You can only pick one.”

“Peanut butter.”

“Show up to class naked or knee to the balls?”

“Class naked.” He shivers like the other option is too awful to contemplate.

I keep firing off questions and he answers – not in a lot of words, but I’m getting used to the subtle way his body language says what he doesn’t. Right now, he’s relaxed, and he thinks I’m at least a little bit funny. I can work with that.

I give up shooting and sit on the floor, ball in my lap, as I watch him. He’s really something to take in. I’ve seen him play before, of course, but up close, all that testosterone and skill is just… well, it’s a little breathtaking if I’m honest. This is almost better than the party.

As if he can read my thoughts, he looks over and stares at me a beat, sympathy in the way he takes me in. “Do you want to go back out to the party?”

I look toward the door with longing but shake my head. “I don’t think so. Tonight is kind of a bust. This is not how I pictured it going down.” Guilt steals the air from my lungs, and it burns as I let out a breath. “Please don’t tell anyone I said that. Blair would be devastated if she thought I didn’t have a good time tonight.”

Zeke places the ball on the floor beside me and sits on it. “I won’t say a word.”

Now that I believe.

“What would you give up food for?”

I think for a minute. “I don’t know. I don’t have one big thing I want like you do. I want to do it all now that I’m at Valley, all the normal college things. That probably sounds dumb to the guy who is about to graduate and get drafted into the NBA.”

“Not dumb at all. Certainly not any dumber than choosing a death sentence so I can play basketball for three weeks. Shit, I would probably be awful too without any food to give me energy.” He looks really bothered by this, more so than the fact he’d literally be starving to death.

I laugh softly. “That is pretty dumb.”

“Got anything specific in mind or are you just winging it?”

I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, so I nod. “I have a few things in mind.”

He waits for me to continue, but I redirect instead. “Does no dating mean no anything? No kissing, no…” I’m a twenty-one-year-old woman, but I can’t bring myself to say the word.

Thankfully he knows where I’m going. “I’ve hooked up occasionally, but it’s hard—”

“I’ll bet.” I slap my hand over my mouth. “Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” I keep my head buried and wave him on. “Please continue.”