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“Athena.”
    The fridge nodded and allowed me to pass.
    And then, there was nothing left in the world but blue eyes and muscled ink.
    “You came,” he said, voice gravelly and tight from the show. I watched as he toweled off in what seemed to be slow motion. My heart nearly forgot to beat and I tapped my chest just to check in.
    “I snuck out.”
    Keaton grinned. “Naughty.”
    “Just the way you like,” I replied and nearly passed out from shock at my response. Who was he turning me into?
    He took two sultry steps toward me and I tried to stave off complete heart failure. “Look, we need to get onto the buses even though the next show is just over in Hartford,” he said glumly. “Benjamin, my manager, is a total fascist. Anyway, I’d like to exchange numbers. I want to see you again.”
    “You give me your number,” I said, boldness again overtaking reason, “and I’ll text you if I feel like it.”
    Keaton tipped his head back and moaned softly. “Fuck, you’ve got me under your thumb, don’t you, Goddess?”
    I smirked and realized that yes, I liked this weird little thing we had. This power exchange. Handing him my phone, I willed myself to keep cool as he typed in his information.
    Just then, a slew of executive types swarmed Keaton’s room and scurried about wildly, grabbing clothing and items. One cold-eyed son of a bitch looked at me with a dismissive sneer. That must be Benjamin.
    “I’m so sorry,” Keaton said as the guy who looked like his manager ushered him off. “But I’ll make it up to you sometime.”
    My heart thudded against my chest.
    I walked home in an aroused daze. My feet stepped in front of me but I couldn’t feel the pavement. Why did he want me? How soon could I see him again? Was it a coincidence that we’d both be traveling to North Carolina in two weeks?
    But fate was for gods and war, not rock stars and basketball.
    As I floated up the dorm stairs, readying myself for Callie’s onslaught of questions, I looked down at my phone to see if he really did put in his number.
    I looked up my contacts and there he was. And he added a note.
    Pity I got ushered off before I could give you a proper good-bye. Luckily, I hear we’ll be travelling together in a couple of weeks. Sweet dreams, Goddess.

I wasn’t a religious person, although I was raised Greek Orthodox, but something in my mind told me that none of this was a coincidence. How could it be that I meet this guy who was probably impossible to get near, that he was into me, that he made me crazy, and that we’d be traveling at the same time to North Carolina and then to Miami if the team won.
    I mean, was this fate?
    As a classics major, fate versus free will was something that we bantered about all the time. Poor Oedipus tried to exercise his free will and avoid the horrible fate that he was foretold, only to end up fulfilling the awful prophecy through what he thought was his choice. The gods, they said, were the ones who decided our fates, not us mortals.
    So was someone up there pulling the strings for me to get together with a rock star? I grimaced at what my Yaya would think at my imagining there was divine intervention that leaned toward the kinky persuasion. Maybe it was Aphrodite and not God or fate. Who knew? The only thing I understood to be true was that this was out of the ordinary and I couldn’t ignore it.
    And I decided to do something very, very stupid.
    “I’m sick,” I said to Callie, who had returned from class to get changed for practice. I was in bed, blankets up to my chin, trying to make the saddest face I possibly could.
    “You’re sick for not fucking the daylights out of Keaton Lowe the other night,” she grumbled. “Like, really, when are you ever going to get an opportunity like that again?”
    She seemed sympathetic . . . good.
    “Tonight,” I responded with a smile, kicking my covers down to reveal a decidedly not-basketball outfit. I put on some skinny black jeans and a tight