Page 27 of Game Changer (Hidden Attractions #2)

Ethan

“I’m trying to decide what’s louder.” Leo hums as he sorts through his clothes.

A towel is wrapped low around his hips, but no matter how many times I beg for him to change in the showers like a normal human, he claims it draws more attention from the girls in the hall.

“A stadium full of fans who just won the Super Bowl or you having sex.”

I snort. “Wow. I’m surprised you even know what the Super Bowl is .”

“Just because I don’t watch sports doesn’t mean I haven’t attended it.”

My eyes snap to his. “Attended? The Super Bowl ? When?”

“Arizona versus Baltimore three years ago in Vegas. Sat in the box.”

“ What? Did you win a contest or something?” Leo is speaking about this like it’s an afternoon picnic at the park, not the fucking Super Bowl. It’s the one event I’ve always wanted to attend, but I’ve had to accept that I won’t be able to. Not at the price those tickets go for anyway.

“Nah, my dad is . . .” He shrugs, tugging a button-up shirt with planets on it from a hanger. “He’s into tech. He’s one of the main reasons I know so much about it.”

“And by into tech, you mean . . . ?”

“Meaning he may or may not be the CEO of one of the largest tech companies on the East Coast.” I avert my gaze while he puts his clothes on, but he must see the confusion written on my face because he sighs and says, “I didn’t want to tell you when I first got here.

I’m used to being treated like royalty or being used because of my family’s wealth.

It was nice just to be normal, you know?

I’ve been able to be a regular guy here. ”

I think Leo and I know each other well enough by now for him to realize I’d never use him for his money. I’m not that kind of person. It’s probably why he’s confiding in me about it now, and I don’t take that kind of trust for granted.

“Well, your secret is safe with me. However, your upturned nose at the menu makes a lot more sense. You’re used to butlers with serving trays, huh?”

“Fuck you.” He laughs. “At least I don’t sound like I’m using a megaphone when I come.”

“At least the woman I slept with came back for seconds. What’s your excuse?” Making fun of each other is our friendship, so we don’t take the insults to heart.

Leo acts as if I shot him by placing a hand on his chest. “Funny, but she knew it was a one-night stand when it happened. I’m playing the field a bit, you know?

After I got my braces off, women started flocking to me left and right, and the AV nerd in me who was a wallflower at the prom is eating the attention up. I’m not afraid to admit it.”

“So, you don’t plan on settling down anytime soon?”

He shakes his head. “No way. I’m not ready for that yet.

A few girls showed interest in me in high school, but it was for the wrong reasons.

Being elusive and enjoying my life as a single man for the next two years sounds like a solid plan.

I’m totally supportive of you locking things down with Maya, though.

Just buy me a pair of noise-canceling headphones for Christmas. ”

I abandon the textbook on my lap and look over at him in exasperation. “You remind me way too much of—”

“Cameron?” he guesses. “How’s he doing, by the way? I miss him.”

“I’m sure you do,” I mutter.

Leo’s brown eyes twinkle with amusement. “I’m going to see what gruel they’re serving us today in the dining hall. Want me to bring you back anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. Trying to finish up this paper. Thanks, though.”

When Leo swings the door open, Maya is holding her fist in the air as if she was about to knock. I inwardly groan at the tight workout set she has on. It’s neon pink, her favorite color, and all I want to know is who I have to thank for creating those shorts. She’s a fucking knockout.

“Hi, guys,” she says cheerily, peeking around Leo’s shoulder to give me a little wave. “Can I steal you for an hour or two, Ethan?”

In that set?

She can have me for more than an hour or two.

“Absolutely. What’s the occasion?”

Leo excuses himself after a quick goodbye, and with him out of the doorway, I can see an exercise mat tucked beneath her arm.

“I thought you might want to join me for yoga today.”

Oh god. I am by no means athletic. I haven’t played football in years, so to say I’m out of shape is an understatement.

“To help your anxiety,” she adds. “You had an attack the other day, and studies have proven that incorporating a morning yoga session can help.”

“You researched this?”

The pink that tinges her cheeks has me falling even harder for her. “Yeah. It’s not a big deal or anything. I just thought it might be worth a try.”

Well, how am I supposed to refuse that ?

“Uh, sure. Let me change real quick.”

I throw on my usual sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and then we trek across campus to the gym. It’s the beginning of November, and with the sun rising in the distance, the air is growing warmer by the second. “Do you come here every day?”

“Not on the weekends when I work, but during the week I do. It’s a nice way to start my mornings.

” She swipes her card at the gym door, and I follow after her.

It’s a shame this is my first time going to the gym on campus.

Not working out isn’t a bad thing, to each their own, but it makes me feel like shit because I used to live and breathe the weight room when I played football.

Then anxiety struck, I went into a depression, and I felt like there wasn’t a way out of it until therapy and medication came along.

Cameron has attempted to help me with a few sessions in the gym whenever he’s home from school, but I never get inspired to keep going. Now I’m just waiting, I guess, for the exercise part of my life to work itself out.

Maya chooses a secluded corner in the back and rolls her mat out. She instructs me to grab one from the set they keep in the gym, so I follow suit and roll mine out beside hers.

I have no idea what I’m doing regarding yoga or even where to begin, but thankfully, Maya starts with something simple.

I’m sitting cross-legged across from her when she passes me a pair of headphones.

“This is my meditation routine,” she explains.

“I’ll let you listen to it today. It’ll tell you when to breathe in and out and all that jazz. ”

“So, I don’t have to do any weird poses?”

She giggles, and the sound makes my heart soar. “No, no weird poses. That’s what I’m doing. Meditation is mainly to connect with yourself, and I’m not talking about your brain. It’s supposed to build awareness within and bring you away from your thoughts.”

Wouldn’t that be nice? I can’t remember the last time I was just me without racing thoughts. My brain doesn’t shut off. Ever. I’m always thinking five steps ahead, never enjoying the present moment, and worried about anything and everything. Medication helps, but it’s not a cure.

Living in my head can be exhausting.

Maya presses Play on her phone and gives me a thumbs-up.

Soon, bells start chiming, and a soft, melodic voice thrums through my ears.

I’m instructed to close my eyes, and although I don’t believe this will work, I give it a shot for Maya, because I don’t want to disappoint her.

She went out of her way to research this for me, so the least I can do is try.

I follow the woman’s breathing instructions, inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling.

I’m not sure how much time has passed, but eventually, a faint buzzing hums beneath my skin, and an overwhelming sense of relaxation hits me out of nowhere.

It feels like I’m in the greatest sleep of my life, one I don’t want to ever wake up from.

All I can hear are the bells and the gentle humming of the music.

My thoughts are nonexistent, and it’s strange.

I’m not a crier, but this feeling makes me want to burst into tears.

Could I have felt like this the entire time simply by meditating ?

It’s unfair to myself how much time I’ve wasted letting my anxiety take the forefront. It’s taken up so much of my life, controlled every decision I’ve made, and I feel like by taking a chance on this, I’m standing up to my biggest bully and telling him fuck you .

The music ends, and a glance at Maya’s phone beside me when I open my eyes says I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes.

“Well?” she asks. “How was it?”

“It was—” My mouth dries out at the sight of her. She’s on her yoga mat with her legs behind her head. Literally .

She smirks when she sees the expression on my face. “The formal term for this particular pose is Dwi Pada Sirsasana.”

“Pada Sira what ? Is that Spanish?” I’m too distracted even to attempt to repeat what she just said.

“You’re acting surprised.” She hums. “I told you I was flexible.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t. . . . Christ, I didn’t think you meant like this .”

She unfolds herself from the pretzel-like state before leaning over to grip the bottoms of her feet. “You never answered my question. How was the meditation?”

“Honestly? It was probably the only thing that’s ever truly worked to silence my thoughts. I zoned out. Didn’t even feel like five minutes, let alone thirty.”

A genuine smile appears on her face that nearly knocks me off-kilter.

I don’t know why she ghosted me, but the more we continue what we’re doing, the less I care.

Her smile says it all, just how much I mean to her.

I don’t have to question if this is real.

She wouldn’t have googled how to help my anxiety if she wasn’t serious about me.

“I’m glad it worked for you, then. Maybe this can be something we can do together from now on?”

I blow out a breath. “Damn. Things are moving pretty fast for us, huh? Two morning traditions made in the span of a few days?”

“What morning— oh my god . You were serious about that?”

“About having my prebreakfast before breakfast?” I tilt my head to the side, letting her feel the heat of my attention. “Hell, yeah, I was. If I didn’t have plans later, I’d suggest we head back to the dorm and explore that pose you did without clothes on.”

Maya’s growing smile tells me she wishes we could do the same. “And these plans of yours can’t be postponed?”

“Afraid not. It’s a secret.”

“Oh, come on!” She sits up on her knees and does her best impression of begging. I hate to admit it, but her expression almost makes me cave. Almost .

“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, now, would it?”

“Fine.” She huff s in defeat. “Can we grab some food at the dining hall when I’m done stretching at least?”

“We can, but first, I want you to show me how to do the sira thing. How did you do it again? Like this?” I roll onto my back while attempting to get my feet behind my head, which results in an epic fail.

My legs barely swing past my torso, but her endless laughter doesn’t make me feel like a loser at all.

It makes me feel like the luckiest guy there is.