Best Served Cold (15 page)

“So it turns out he’s a manager for the wrestling team, and they have a meet today. And his brother is single and in town. Used to be on the team, so he’s coming to the meet. Jeff says he’ll definitely be game to meet you there, hang out, make it look flirty. As a favor to his little brother. You know the drill.”

I felt ill. “Giff, please tell me why I’m doing this? How is Liam even going to know I’m there?”

He smiled. “I’m dragging my roommate to the wrestling match because this cute guy I met last night is going to be there.”

I groaned. “Giff, he never goes with you anywhere to meet guys. You really think he’ll do that?”

“I know he will, I already talked to him. He’ll go with me because I’ve been giving him the guilts so bad about what he did to you. He’s trying to be a better person.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I bet. Did he tell you what happened yesterday?”

Giff frowned. “He said he’d seen you. But he was vague. And when he got back to our room last night, something was wrong. He wouldn’t tell me what.”

I glanced at Ava. “He came by here when I was on my way...out. So he talked to Ava.”

She was still buried beneath her comforter and pillow but lifted her head just enough that I could see one open eye. “Told you. He said he’s worried you’re hanging around with the wrong guys.” The eye closed and the head dropped.

“He stopped me on the way to work yesterday afternoon, too, and when I wouldn’t chat, he started playing the martyr card. No explanation, no apology, just woe-is-me crap.”

Giff smiled big. “Jules, that’s awesome. You’ve got him thinking about you. See, didn’t I tell you it would work?”

I set down the coffee. That sick feeling was back. “Yeah, you told me. You’re the man.”

“Yes, I am. Which is why you’re going to get your sweet ass out of bed and head for the gym. Today might be the tipping point. You could be back in Liam’s loving arms tonight.” He paused and shot me a wolfish grin. “Which could work out for me, too, depending on how things go with Jeff and me at the meet.”

I shook my head at him. “What time do I have to be there?”

“Eleven. Oh, Jeff’s brother is Dean. He’s got red hair, and he’ll be looking for you. I sent Jeff a picture of you.” Giff stood up. “Make sure Princess Pea gets her coffee, okay? I want full credit for bringing breakfast. See you in a little while.”

He was out the door before I could answer. Ava lifted her head again.

“Quick, lock it before anyone else comes in. Good God, have people never heard of Saturday? The morning when you don’t wake up your friends?”

I jumped out of bed and turned the bolt on the door. Passing the box of donuts, I snagged a chocolate frosted on the way back to bed. My stomach was still rolling, but chocolate never hurt anything or anyone.

We both dozed another hour or so before I dragged myself upright. Ava was beginning to show signs of life as I came back into the room after my shower.

“Was Giff really here this morning, or did I have a very detailed nightmare?” Her voice was still muffled.

“He was here. Good news is he brought coffee and donuts. Bad news is he set me up with someone else.”

She struggled to a sitting position. “Was there something about wrestling? I thought that had to be a dream.”

“It wasn’t, sadly. I’m going to a meet this morning.”

“Oh, Jules.” Ava pried the plastic lid off her coffee cup, took an experimental sip and made a face. “It’s cold, can you zap it for me?”

I tugged on my jeans. “Yeah, just a second.” I took the cup and stuck in the microwave for a minute.

“Do you want me to come with you?” She gave me the pitiful poor-Ava look.

“No, I’m not that mean. But I was thinking after Giff left. I’m putting my foot down. This is it. I’m done. Liam isn’t jealous about me hanging out with guys. You said last night he only wanted to warn me away from hanging with them, right?”

Ava jumped out of bed and opened the microwave to retrieve her coffee. She tested it and then blew across the top, all of while she avoided looking at me.

“Ave?” I pulled a red henley over my head. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” She attempted a smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, you got a funny look on your face. Did Liam say something else last night? When I got home, your eyes almost looked like you’d been crying. You can tell me if Liam was a jerk. I really don’t care.”

“No, I told you everything. He was trying to find out why you’re seeing all those guys, but he says it’s just because he doesn’t want you getting hurt. I asked him why it mattered to him, when he hadn’t done a very good job of not hurting you himself. He said he felt like it would be his fault if you were doing it just to get back at him.”

I flushed. “I’d say his ego was a little inflated if he wasn’t actually on to us. So he’s not interested in me because I’m unattainable again, he’s worried that my broken heart is making me a little too attainable. To other guys, at least. Lovely.”

Ava turned away from me. “Where are the donuts?”

“Over on my desk. Seriously, Ave, are you okay? You look...weird.”

“I’m fine, I’m just a little tired still. I think I’ll crawl back under the covers and go to sleep for a while.” She snagged a donut and napkin from the box.

“All right. If you’re sure.” I ran a brush through my hair and caught it up into a high ponytail. My boots were lost in the bottom of my closet, so it took me a few minutes to dig them out and get my coat. By the time I was ready to leave, Ava’s eyes were closed, and her even breathing told me she asleep. Or doing a darn good impression of it.

I left the room as quietly as possible, still wondering what was going with my roommate.

I didn’t spend very much time near the sports complex on campus. I’d had a yoga class there during freshman year; it filled the physical education requirement without forcing me into a competitive sport. I’d been to a few basketball games when Liam made me go with him, but since the track and field facility was on the other side of the campus, we spent more time there than in the gym.

There was more than one event going on that morning, so it took me a little while to figure out where the wrestling meet was taking place. I was just about to open the door when I heard someone calling my name.

“Julia?” A man about my height, stocky with red hair, walked toward me. He smiled as he came near.

“You
are
Julia, right? I’m Dean Lester.” He held out a hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Yes, I’m Julia. Hi, Dean.” I forced a smile I was far from feeling.

“My brother tells me we have a job to do today.”

“Oh, really? And just what did he tell you? I like to know what my friend Giff is saying.”

“Just that I’m supposed to keep you company, make it look good. Like we maybe have something going.”

“Mmm.” I nodded. “Okay. Well, don’t worry too much about that. Let’s just have a good time, and maybe you can even explain to me how these matches work. I am totally clueless about wrestling.”

“You’ve come to the right place. I’ve been wrestling since I was five years old.” Dean opened the swinging door, and I followed him inside.

The gym wasn’t full by any means, but there were more people on the bleachers than I would have expected for a cold Saturday morning. I was aware right away that Liam and Giff sat midway up in the center section.

“Let’s sit over here.” Dean guided me with his hand on my lower back. We climbed up a few rows on the right side and sat down. I left a judicious amount of space between us and looked down at the mats.

“So what’s going on down there?” I propped my elbows on my knees and leaned my chin on one hand.

“That’s Jennings, there. He’s about to wrestle that dude from Cramer.”

I made a face. “I don’t like their outfits. They look like giant baby suits.”

“They’re called singlets.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t leave much to the imagination, do they?”

“They’re designed to keep opponents from grabbing onto clothing during matches.”

“Hmm. Okay, I guess that make sense. What about the thingie on their heads?”

“Headgear. It’s protective. Are you anti-all sports or just wrestling?”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I’m not anti-any sports. I actually am quite the sports fan. Just not this. I mean, check out at how they look down there, compared to eleven men on a hundred yards of vivid green. Not dressed in funny-looking onesies.”

Dean shook his head. “Football. Really? A bunch of guys trying to move pigskin down the field ten yards at a time? Don’t get me wrong, I dig a game now and then, but it doesn’t even approach the artistry of what you’re going to see here.”

He pointed to the mat, and I focused on two men who paced just outside the ring that was painted on the foam. At the signal from someone I assumed was the referee, they both approached center and dropped on their haunches to a crouch. They moved in wary half-steps from that position. The man in the red onesie—I mean, singlet—grabbed the other guy by the head. In turn he grasped his opponents’ arms, and they went around and around.

“So far it doesn’t look much different than two boys fighting it out on the playground.” I kept my voice low; I didn’t want to offend any of the fans around us, who apparently saw more than I did if their yelling was any indication.

“Just watch.” Dean’s eyes never left the match, and they were bright with attention. I stifled a sigh and turned my attention back to the men on the mat.

“Oh, now wait a minute. What is this?” The ref stopped the match and said something I couldn’t hear. The blue wrestler dropped to his hands and knees, and red wrestler came up behind him, in some kind of backwards hug. It looked downright...pornographic.

“He’s going to—oh, dude! Did you see that escape?” Blue guy had executed a sort of fancy twist and gotten to his feet, knocking red guy away in the process.

“Yeah, that was something.” There was more of the head grabbing, some arm and shoulder grasps, and then a whistle blew.

Dean let out a breath and leaned back, rolling his shoulders as though he’d been in on the match.

“What’s happening?” Both wrestlers had moved to side, were conferring with other men and chugging water.

“End of the first period. If there’s no decisive win or disqualification in the first three minutes, there’s a second period.”

“And then that’s it?” If he heard the hope in my voice, so be it. Wasn’t like I really cared what he thought of me, anyway.

“Well, depends. If nothing happens in the second period—that’s two minutes—then there’s a third. And then if it’s still tied, there’s overtime. That’s sudden victory, tiebreaker, second overtime round--”

“You have got to be kidding me.” The wrestlers were returning to the mat as I watched. “What do they have to do to win? And which one there is from Birch, ‘cause I’ll start cheering now, if it ends this whole thing sooner.”

Dean seemed not to notice my lack of enthusiasm. He kept his eyes on the match as he began.

“There’s point scoring, and you can win that way. It’s called a technical fall. But you can also win by fall, by decision, by default...”

He kept talking, but I tuned out the words. I loved to learn anything new, but I was fairly certain understanding wrestling was not going to enhance my life in any way.

As I pretended to be absorbed in his explanations, I let my eyes drift to the next set of bleachers. Giff was leaning back on the empty bench behind him, his blond hair artfully mussed. He wasn’t so much watching the wrestling as he was the side lines—I supposed they were called that—where a guy who bore a passing resemblance to Dean was studying a clipboard.

Aha, the brother.
I couldn’t get a good look at him, but he seemed to have a similar build to Dean. His hair wasn’t red, though; it was jet black, and he raked his hands though it as he flipped over papers and spoke to wrestlers on the bench.

I glanced back, hoping to catch Giff’s eye and give him a wink, but it was Liam who was looking my way instead.

His dark brows were drawn together, and his jaw was tight. I shrugged and turned back to the wrestlers just as a cheer went up.

“Did you see that? He just won the match. Awesome.” Dean’s enthusiasm didn’t spread my way, but I did my best to clap as though I cared.

“So he won...it’s over now?” Yes, that was hopefulness spiking in my voice.

“His match is over, but now other wrestlers will compete.”

“How many?” Visions of my entire Saturday consumed by this farce danced behind my eyes.

“Two more. In this weight class, I mean. And then there’s nine other classes.”

“
Nine
other classes?” I dropped my head into my hands. “So you basically hang here all day watching this?”

Dean spared me a quick glance. “Well, yeah. I came back just to see this meet.”

“That’s right.” I turned again to see if Giff were paying attention. He wasn’t; he had instead taken advantage of the momentary break in the action to snag a few minutes with Dean’s brother. And Liam was nowhere to be seen. I assumed he had fulfilled his roommate duty and blown this joint. I was about to do the same.

“So, listen, Dean, this was fun. I really appreciate you teaching me a little about wrestling. I feel much more informed.”