Coaching the Nerd (Nerds Vs Jocks #2) - Eli Easton Page 0,27
his naan in the raita and bit off a hunk.
It must take a virtual cornucopia of food to keep that big body going. That big, beautiful body. Since I’d been making a study of potential partners, I had found my interest piqued by those who were big and fit and moved with effortless ease as if their bodies were a comfortable home. Like Bubba. Yes, exactly like Bubba.
“So, now that you’re all fixed up, what do you plan to do next?” Bubba asked.
“Next?” I blinked. “I’d rather thought the makeover principle was like the old movie that said, If you build it, he will come.” I waggled my eyebrows. I was only partially kidding. Surely what I’d already done was enough. Well, in addition to continuing my physical fitness training.
“No, I don’t think so. I mean, women like my body, but if I stay in the steam room all the time, who’s gonna see it? You’ve got to get out there. Show off the goods.”
I pushed up my glasses. “I can’t dispute that logic.” I dipped a piece of naan in tikka masala sauce and leaned over slightly to take it between my teeth. I didn’t want to get sauce on my new green sweater.
Bubba watched me. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You know, uh, you do look good, Sean. Bet you can, um, find someone now.”
“But only if I get out there,” I said, pointedly repeating his words.
“Yeah. For example, next Friday, there’s a party. You should go to that.”
“An A-hoe—I mean, an ALA party?” I asked doubtfully. We SMT brothers never attended those. It was a code of honor.
“Nah. It’s at the Tri-Delt house. You know, that really hot sorority? They do a winter bash about this time every year. Tons of people go. All sorts. Like, it’s not just a kegger.”
I considered that, looking out the window. The thought made me feel a little nauseated. I wouldn’t know a soul at a party like that—unless I could convince someone from SMT to go along with me. And wading into a sea of people who were way cooler than me didn’t sound like a promising scenario. Then again, what use was a makeover and working to get more fit if I stayed in my room? That would be like renting time on the CERN particle accelerator and then just sitting there twiddling your thumbs.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” I said.
Bubba smiled as if I amused him. “You could go with me,” he offered.
I looked at him in surprise, but his gaze dropped to his food again.
“Really? Is active matchmaking at parties another duty performed by a personal trainer?”
He glanced up at me and shrugged. “Could be. Boosting confidence and all that. Why not?”
I stared at his face a minute longer. Me show up at a party with a popular guy like Bubba? Perhaps that would convince potential partners that I was straight and looking for a woman, which would be contrary to my aim. But he said that party had a wide range of attendees. Perhaps gay students would be there. And if I went with him, it would be like I had a special pass. I would be the guy who came with Bubba Merkofsky, which would make me look cool. “Yes, as you say, why not?”
Chapter Eight
Bubba
I bounded down the stairs at my house carrying Brett over my shoulder. He hadn’t exactly asked to go to the living room, but hell, he was my good luck cat, and Sean needed all the luck he could get. Hey, I could use some too.
We’d been working our buns off at the gym to get ready for the party. Note to self. For future clients, the best motivator is an event. Preferably one where the client wants to look good. Sean had decided he was going to be, if not Chris Hemsworth, at least Ryan Reynolds in a week. Not gonna happen, but I’d be the first to admit, he’d picked up a noticeable layer of tone. It helped that he was skinny because any added muscle showed up quick. Besides, in his new clothes, he already looked good. He’d even inspired me. I broke down and bought a new white Madison shirt at the campus store.
DeWan and PJ both sat in the living room, and I transferred Brett to DeWan’s lap. He gave me a once-over. “Hey, my man, you’re lookin’ good. Going to the Tri-Delt party?”