Danielle rubbed her shoulder even though the spot didn’t hurt. “I don’t always think about work. And we had drinks a few weeks ago.”
“Drinks with the other river rats a month ago doesn’t count,” Debra said, referring to the other conservation leaders in the area.
They’d gotten the nickname after a snarky reporter accused the environmental community of “scurrying around the river looking for problems” like rats. Instead of getting offended, Danielle insisted they accept the nickname. They did look for problems, and they made sure the problems were fixed.
Some called her overzealous. She didn’t care. There wasn’t much she could hold on to in her life. She was single, her parents were always busy with other things, she had no siblings, and she hadn’t had a significant relationship since college. Her passion for protecting the river was about the only thing to keep her warm at night. A state some would consider depressing if they didn’t consider her reasons.
The Ridgeport area was her home. She’d inserted herself in the community, made connections with residents and other activists there. What she did to protect the people hurt by industries like Clear Water, and their appreciation for her efforts, was the only proof she had that she mattered to someone.
“Come on, Danielle. We’ve got courtside seats. We have to go.”
Danielle did a quick count in her head. It had been over a month since she’d done anything remotely fun that had nothing to do with raising money for the River Watchers. “Why not?”
Debra did a quick shimmy of her hips and grinned. “Yay! It’s going to be so much fun. Hey, we’re right behind the bench. Maybe you can put that unassuming girl-next-door charm on blast and snatch a towel from one of the players.”
“Really, Debra, how am I supposed to do that?”
“They won’t suspect you of stealing a towel,” Debra said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Try to go for one that Jacobe Jenkins uses to wipe the sweat from his brow. Since you salivate every time you see him on television or on a billboard.”
Danielle waved a dismissive hand, but her heart wasn’t so indifferent. It jumped with a secret thrill of excitement. “I do not salivate.”
Debra’s smirk screamed, Yeah, right. “Yeah. You do. You both were at the University of Miami at the same time. Did you drool over him then, too?”
Drooling over Jacobe Jenkins was an understatement. Hiding how much desire gripped her whenever he came near had become her number-one priority. Except for that one night. Danielle tried to force the long-ago encounter from her mind and focus on the myriad of ways Jacobe Jenkins had irritated her, when he wasn’t sending her estrogen levels through the roof.
“Every time I was around Jacobe he was being a cocky jock who thought the world was his to command, or he was on his way to a party.”
Debra held up both hands in front of her body. “Shut the front door. You did not tell me you know Jacobe Jenkins!”
“I don’t know Jacobe. I knew him. A hundred years ago when we were freshmen in college. I tutored him a few times in Biology 101. He left for the draft right after freshman year, and I never saw him again. A few brief interactions do not count as knowing him.”
One night of fast and hot sex the night before the draft could count as knowing him, but Danielle was taking that secret to her grave.
“It’s still cool that you kinda know him. It’ll be fun to sit right behind him and the rest of the team at the game. Maybe he’ll see you and recognize you. Then he can introduce me to one of his sexy teammates. That team is full of grade-A, prime-choice, hot-guy sexiness.”
“First of all, I doubt he’d recognize me. Second, if he did I doubt even more that he’d speak to me. Third, prime-choice, hot-guy sexiness? What is that?”
“Um, every single man on that team.”
Debra and Danielle both laughed. Someone cleared their throat. They both stifled the laughter and turned toward the door. One of the female interns who took water samples along the river stood there with a cooler in her hand. “I’m going to take some samples on the beach today. You need anything before I go?”
Danielle shook her head and tried to look professional. Hard to do after being caught talking about prime male sexiness. “No, Marie, we’re good.”
As soon as the young woman walked away, Danielle bumped Debra. “We’ve got to stop talking about the men of the Jacksonville Gators like they’re pieces of meat. It’s not professional in front of the interns.”
“The interns drool over those men, too,” Debra said, grinning. “So, are you really good to go? Don’t you want to see the super-hot men on this team up close?”
A shiver of anticipation raced through Danielle. Seeing Jacobe up close and in person would be fun. Based on media reports, he was cockier and even more arrogant than she remembered. Shortly after joining the league he’d gotten into some trouble for fighting and partying hard. The team that had drafted him had traded him to Jacksonville two years before. Jacksonville had been a laughingstock of the league until Jacobe joined and they picked up a few more free agents and draft picks. Some were even talking play-offs this year. Of course he wouldn’t recognize her, but she was a fan of the team, and seeing him again even if from afar would be kind of thrilling.
You seriously need to find a man.
Danielle pushed that thought aside. She didn’t need anyone to validate her. She had her work. People moved on. The cause remained the same.
She looked at Debra and nodded. “I’m in.”
* * *
The Jacksonville arena buzzed with the excitement of the rivalry game. The same energy pumped full throttle through Danielle and Debra. Danielle had only been to two other Gators games. Each time she’d sat in the nosebleed seats. The Gators had almost made it to the play-offs last season, but had lost in overtime. That was the last game she’d come to. She and the rest of the fans had felt the team’s disappointment that night. This year they’d played each game as if it were a rematch of that heartbreaking loss. With each win, ticket prices increased. Nosebleed seats were getting to be out of her budget. Courtside had only been a dream before Mr. Springfield’s gift.
Debra gripped Danielle’s arm. “Oh, my God, there he goes again!”
“Are you going to do that all night,” Danielle said, swatting at Debra’s hand. Every time Jacobe came anywhere near the bench Debra went into a fit of hormones. They both wore Gators T-shirts and jeans. Debra’s proudly included Jacobe’s number, 06, on the back. Jacobe wasn’t on the bench often. He’d spent most of the first half contributing to his team’s six-point lead over Miami. The few times he did come to the bench, Debra’s enthusiasm rivaled that of someone who’d just won the Powerball jackpot.
Debra released Danielle’s arm. “I can’t help it. He’s so damn fine.”
Danielle couldn’t argue with that. Instead, she took stock of Jacobe’s fineness herself. And, boy, was that man fine. Six feet and four inches of long, lean muscle, smooth, terra-cotta skin and walnut-colored eyes. He played point guard and led the team with ease and confidence. His large body was a thing of grace and beauty. He handled the ball with self-assurance, ran up and down the court without hesitation and effortlessly faked out the opponent defending him. Since he’d been traded to the Gators she’d seen images of him everywhere, but being this close to him in action proved how inadequate billboards, television commercials and nosebleed seats were at portraying his skill and hotness.
Danielle alternated between greedily studying his powerfully built body and jumping up to cheer with the rest of the fans every time he scored. When she’d first come into the arena she’d considered keeping to her seat to try not to draw any attention to herself. That idea was immediately dropped after she was swept away by the buzz of electricity in the crowd. What did it matter if he