When We Met

chapter one

Courtney

“What can I get you?”

“How about something hot and spicy like you?”

“Really? That’s the best line you got?” I asked the guy who’d been hitting on me the last couple of nights. “I think I heard that one from a balding used car salesman back in high school when I waited tables at Denny’s.”

His friends, who’d been egging him on a few seconds ago, hooted with laughter. “Dude, I told you you’d be toast again,” one of them said, clapping him on the back.

Mr. Flirt didn’t seem to mind the razzing, shooting me a slow grin as he sat back in his seat. I bit back a snort. Guys were so typical. They gave you a little wink and a smile and somehow convinced themselves your panties would drop. I played the game, though, and gave him a coy smile in return. “Besides, you’re not ready for this kind of heat. I’ll bring you some volcano wings,” I added, bumping his shoulder with my hip. Just the mere suggestion that he had any kind of chance lifted his spirits once again as everyone at the table high-fived like they had just scored some sort of victory. It was all part of the waitressing game. Tease them just enough that they keep coming back for more, all in the name of good tips. It really wasn’t much of a hardship for me. I’d been waitressing since I was fifteen, so I was a pro at working the customer. Not that I didn’t deserve the tips I earned. I worked my ass off, always had. Even back in high school, my manager at Denny’s loved me because I never called in sick or missed a shift. At fifteen, I’d been more responsible than most of the employees he kept on staff.

Things were the same at Gruby’s, the loudest and busiest sports pub around campus. I’d only been working here for a couple of months, but my manager, Chris, pretty much gave me any hours I wanted. With money always so tight, if I wasn’t in class or sleeping, I tried to be here, squeezing in homework and studying during breaks. The holidays had basically wiped me out financially, so I’d been working nonstop since Christmas. For the past three weeks, the only time I’d seen my three roommates was to say a quick good-bye on my way out, or a tired good night when I got home. Lately, the house we all shared had become nothing more than a place for me to shower and then fall into bed.

I finished taking the guys’ orders around several more innuendos before walking away. I could feel their eyes all over my ass without turning around to look.

“How’s it going?” my best friend and fellow waitress, Amanda, asked, grabbing a bottle of ketchup from the servers’ station.

“Typical. They’re all God’s gift to women with heaven in their pants.”

“It’s jock syndrome. Don’t you just love basketball season? I swear this school acts like the sun rises and sets on their players’ asses.”

“It’s all about the money, babe. The university isn’t stupid.” Not that I didn’t agree with Amanda, one hundred percent.

“Preach it, sister.”

Amanda was putting on a show for my benefit. I knew from experience that she was all about the basketball team. She was one of those hard-core supporters who painted her cheeks for every game and cheered as loud as anyone when the games were televised on the big screens scattered throughout the restaurant.

“Who are you trying to kid? We all know you love the players in more ways than one,” I teased, wagging my eyebrows. I filled my drink order and placed the glasses on the round tray I was expertly balancing on my hip. “I bet you’re already scouting for your next recruit.”

She grinned. “Well, now that you mention it . . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked over her shoulder.

“Come on. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“I’ll fill you in later. I need to deliver this check to table six before they have a fit.”

I shook my head, watching her walk away. Over the past year that we’d been friends, I’d watched her fall for at least half a dozen guys. She claimed dating someone taller than her was a must, which was why she always went for athletes, especially basketball players. I tried to put myself in her shoes, but I couldn’t see anything bad about being a long-legged five-foot-nine goddess. At five foot nothing, I was shorter than pretty much every guy on campus. Mom called me pixie cute, which was a nice way of saying I was short.

After delivering drinks to the flirty table, I headed over to greet another group that had been seated in my section. Within twenty minutes, the restaurant was packed as the dinner rush began. Amanda and I didn’t have another chance to talk other than to exchange notes on particularly difficult tables, especially those that felt the need to be touchy-feely. Ass grabbers were nothing new. Gruby’s was located on the outskirts of campus, so it attracted a combination of college students and local residents. Mainly middle-aged men sporting beer guts and receding hairlines believing they still had enough game to close a piece of college ass. That is, if they ever had any game in the first place. They were usually the best tippers, but the problem was you had to put up with a lot more shit, including “accidental” ass grazes or boob brushes. They were all the same. Most didn’t even try to hide their wedding rings. Of course, the waitstaff at Gruby’s had our own way of keeping them in line, like spilling drinks in their laps, or a plate of food in the crotch if they’d taken too many liberties with their hands. Thankfully it didn’t have to come to that very often. A little flirty banter was usually all it took to keep any guy in check, no matter how old he was.

Five hours into my shift and my feet were begging for a break. Today had been a long fourteen-hour marathon. An early cram session at the library had me out of the house earlier than normal, followed by art history class and then more studying before my final class of the day.

As the dinner crowd slowly trickled away, I stood out of view of the few remaining patrons and rolled my shoulders, trying to work out a kink in my neck. Feeling marginally better, I left the drink station to hand over the check to what would hopefully be my last customer of the night.

As luck would have it, Felicia, everyone’s least favorite hostess, squashed that thought as she walked by. “Hey, Court. I just sat another group at table twelve in your zone.” Like I needed her to tell me table twelve was in my zone. I had worked here long enough to know the layout of the dining area.

That was Felicia. She was a witch who had an annoying habit of telling everyone how to do their jobs. Worst of all was the way she would brag about how they used to do things at the last sports bar where she’d worked. After several not-so-subtle hints, Amanda had finally told her to go back to her last place if it was so fabulous because maybe she’d be happier there. Felicia missed the hint. She was on the verge of having her mouth taped closed, but thankfully we felt her days were numbered since she’d called in sick twice in two weeks. Chris had a low tolerance for employees who missed shifts. We were already planning the celebration party.

I straightened up and pasted a smile on my face to greet my new table.

“Welcome to Gruby’s. I’m Courtney, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Drafts are buy one, get one for another twenty minutes,” I parroted, finally looking at the occupants as I pulled my notepad from the pocket of my half apron. My eyes widened and my mouth went dry when I took in the group sitting at the table. Actually it was because of one person in particular. I knew there was a chance this day would come. I was just hoping to be better prepared for it.

Dalton Thompson, my first best friend and onetime crush, sat in front of me, flashing his signature grin that I knew all too well. It had been years since that grin was aimed in my direction, but it was forever burned in my brain. Not that I could forget it, considering where I went to school. That same cheeky smile could be found on banners splashed all over campus, along with local TV news stations and even the national sports channels. Dalton was the face of the university’s basketball team. After he’d won two state championships in high school, every big-time program in the country wanted Dalton, but he chose to stay home and play for Michigan. He was practically a legend to everyone in the local community, and one day in the not too distant future would be a top ten pick in the pros. To me, he was so much more. At least, he was at one time. When I decided to attend the same college as Dalton, I figured I was safe because the chances of us running into each other were pretty slim, and yet here we were.

chapter two

Dalton

“I’ll take the Gruby’s burger, medium, and an extra order of fries.” I handed over the menu to Courtney Leighton, recognizing her right away even though I hadn’t seen her in years. We were best friends when we were kids. Then we drifted apart and it was like she became a ghost. We stopped talking and even though we went to the same schools, we never seemed to see each other.

Checking her out now in her short skirt and tight black T-shirt, I was surprised at how much she had changed. She definitely wasn’t the tomboy I remembered who used to climb trees with me or trade Pokémon cards. She was still short, but her body had developed and filled out the package nicely. Who would ever have thought she’d grow up to be such a knockout? As a matter of fact, the longer she stood in front of me, the cuter she was getting. The height difference might be weird. I bet if I stood up she’d barely reach my chest, which actually could make for some interesting possibilities. She had a tiny waist with a gorgeous ass that looked like it had been crafted for my big hands. Not to mention she was completely stacked. I shifted in my seat since I was suddenly more than a little turned on just looking at her. I needed to get a grip. This was Courtney. How weird would it be if we hooked up after all these years?

She took everyone else’s orders but still hadn’t looked at me. It was like she didn’t recognize me. I remember being pretty bummed back in seventh grade when we started drifting apart, but at the time my dad was riding my ass hard, claiming my days of screwing off were over and that I had to get serious about my game. After that, he made sure I had no time for anything in my life except basketball.

“Anything else?” Courtney asked, finally looking at me like she was bored.

Her expression threw me off. Maybe she did recognize me and just didn’t care or was too embarrassed to say anything. Even though this was a different situation, I’d had my fair share of awkward encounters with women. I always tried to be up front with any girl I met, but sometimes they wanted more than I could give them. Unfortunately basketball took up the majority of the free time I had after classes. That was why I’d never gotten serious with anyone. I never made false promises about where any relationship was going. Up to this point most ladies had been cool with that.

I decided to go for broke. “It’s good to see you, Courtney.”

“Hey, Dalton.” She looked extremely uncomfortable. I guess that answered my question as to whether she remembered me.

“It’s been a long time. Do you go to Michigan?” I was doing my best to break the ice, but she still wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“Yeah, I do. I’ll get your orders in.” She hastily tucked the menus under her arm and flashed the others a smile before hurrying away. I got nothing.

“That was a little cold. Is she an ex or something?” Collin asked once she was out of earshot.

“Man, I wish I could have ordered a beer,” Dave muttered.

“Nah, we knew each other way back in grade school,” I answered. “And don’t even think about it, Dave. You never know who’s watching.” Coach had laid down the law now that the season was heating up. No drinking and no staying up late chasing ass. Dave, who was hoping to get more court time, had taken those words to heart. He’d given up partying and even dumped Jessica, his girlfriend for the past six months. That was why we came to Gruby’s tonight. We hadn’t been here in a couple of months and figured good food and hot waitresses in skimpy uniforms would do him some good.

“That’s cool. Talk about some small-world shit, though,” Collin commented about Courtney. “I had to ask to make sure I wasn’t about to eat a burger that had been dunked in toilet water or something, you know?”

“Damn, dude. Give me a little credit. I’ve never had a chick hate me that bad.”

“My ass. You don’t remember—damn, what was her name?” He paused, snapping his fingers. “We called her Black Widow.”

I slapped the table, nearly falling backward out of my chair. “Oh, shit. You mean Aubrey. Okay, but she was crazy.” Collin did have a point, though. Aubrey was cool at first, but after a while I had to cut it off because she got seriously possessive. She would pick fights with chicks that did nothing but look at me. After I told her we were done, she spray-painted the word asshole down the entire hallway of the dorm where I lived at the time.

“This fucking sucks,” Dave whined, checking his phone for a text that obviously hadn’t come in. He tossed the phone on the table like a total pussy.

“Dude, I don’t think Coach meant you needed to break up with your lady. He just didn’t want anyone hanging out at the bars all night trying to score,” I pointed out as he picked up his phone on the off chance a message had come through in the two seconds it was out of his hand.

“Yeah, you look like a total pussy whip,” Collin added, elbowing him.

“Fuck off, Collin,” he said as Courtney approached the table carrying our drinks.

I flashed her a smile when our eyes met, but her glance slid right on by like she wasn’t even aware I was there.

“Here you go.” She smiled at Dave as she handed him his Coke. Collin got the same greeting, but when Courtney turned to me, her face was blank.

“Thanks,” I said as she set my drink down. She nodded in response but turned back to Collin and Dave. “Your food should be up in a few minutes. If you need anything, ring the buzzer,” she said to them, pointing at the buzzer attached to the wall. It was supposed to sound like the time-out buzzers at the arena, but it sounded more like some annoying horn you’d find in a smart car or something.

My eyes focused on Courtney’s backside as she walked away. I’m not going to lie. I was completely puzzled by her attitude toward me. Collin was right. She was acting like someone I’d had a bad breakup from, not someone I had once been friends with. Sure, it was a long time ago. Hell, she was the first girl I’d ever kissed. Although calling it a kiss was a stretch. It was more like me awkwardly smashing my lips against hers without asking when we were ten years old. We were watching a movie at her house and I took a shot. Courtney retaliated by socking me in the arm. I never tried to kiss her again after that.

chapter three

Courtney

“Hey, Chuck, how much longer on my order?” I drummed my fingers on the serving counter, staring off into space in the crowded kitchen.

“Coming up.”

I was so ready for the evening to be over, and past ready to get rid of Dalton. Having him grin at me and act like we were still friends was making me shaky and off-kilter. Obviously he didn’t remember how he’d tossed me aside like I was no longer important. He moved on, leaving me behind without my best friend. More important, I was confused about the feelings I had started having for him. One moment I was daydreaming about us becoming boyfriend and girlfriend and then, poof, he was gone.

I had tried convincing myself I hated him for ditching me, but I couldn’t do it. I had a crush. What could I say? Over the years I’d watched him from afar, but we never really ran in the same circles again. In eighth grade his talent on the court earned him a lot of attention, and in high school basketball had made him a legitimate star. When I saw him in the hallways, he always seemed to have a new girl on his arm. I found my own circle of friends in high school, and eventually I realized I had romanticized our friendship into something it wasn’t and I got over him.

Facing him now while he attempted to flirt with me like I was a typical girl he’d just met was seriously screwing with my head. I could see why girls were into him. It took all my concentration to ignore his come-hither looks and deep, sexy voice. How one person could be blessed with so many gifts was beyond me. Most men would trade their left nut for even a smidge of his talent on the basketball court, but combining that with rugged good looks and a voice that would make any girl’s panties wet was just unfair.

Amanda interrupted my inner whine-fest, snagging a fry from one of the plates waiting to go out. “So, how’s it going?”

I smacked her hand without hesitation, making the fry drop to the floor.

“Hey.” She reached for another in spite of her complaint, but I slid the plate out of her reach.

“You know Chris will have your head if he sees you munching off the customers’ plates.” I didn’t know why I had to remind her. She knew the rules as well as I did.

She pouted, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re such a brownnoser.”

“And you should know how gross that is. I’d hurl if I found out someone had their fingers in my food. You know Chuck would make you something if you asked.”

“I don’t want a whole dish of something. I’m on a diet, hence why I was only after one fry.” She patted her model-thin waist for emphasis. I was tempted to throat-punch her. I wasn’t fat. I just had more curves than I would have preferred. My waist was tiny, but my ass seemed determined to be seen. I was okay with my boobs being on the larger side, although at times I worried they were too large for my frame. Maybe I wouldn’t mind my figure as much if I were taller. Being five foot nothing made my hourglass curves look like they had been smooshed in a compactor.

“Thanks, Chuck,” I said, placing the last plate from my order on my tray.

He tipped his chef’s hat in response. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

“I saw that you lucked out with table twelve,” Amanda said, opening a package of saltines since I had deflected her attempts at taking a fry.

I balanced the heavy tray on my palm before heading for the swinging door to the dining area. “Lucked out?” I asked incredulously before reminding myself that she knew nothing about my history with Dalton. In the year and a half that Amanda and I had been friends, I never once let on that I knew Dalton before he became the basketball savior of the university.

“Are you kidding? You’re waiting on my own version of a dream team there.” She shot a lustful look toward my zone.

Understanding dawned on me at seeing her hooded eyes. “Of course.” Her next fascination was sitting at the table. For a horrible moment I wondered if it was Dalton. Not that it should matter. Dalton wasn’t mine. He never had been.

I returned to their table with their food, resolved to make the best of the situation.

“So, how have you been?” Dalton asked as I dished out their plates. “It’s been ages since we had a chance to talk.”

“I guess some of us just got busy.” My answer had a little more snap, despite my intent to play it cool.

He frowned, rubbing a hand over his head. It was a habit I remembered him doing when we were kids. It meant he was confused. “Yeah, I guess so.”

I excused myself, telling them I would be back in a few minutes to refill their drinks.

Somehow I managed to keep it together for the rest of the service. I checked on them a few times and inquired about dessert, but I could barely suppress the pent-up breath I’d been holding when they paid their checks and headed out.

After Gruby’s finally closed for the evening, I spent the last hour of my shift doing side work and cleaning the restaurant with Amanda and Chuck while Chris headed to the office to take care of whatever managers did. Chuck handled the kitchen and prepared a bucket of water for Amanda, who tried to bribe me into taking her turn at mopping. Throughout our closing duties, I finally learned that Amanda had set her sights on Collin. I didn’t know anything about him other than having just served him, but Amanda was absolutely gaga.

Once the restaurant was prepped for the following day, we all headed out together. Amanda followed me to my car since I was her ride home. She was from sunny Phoenix and had chosen to leave her car with her parents while she attended school in Michigan. I’d become her unofficial chauffeur after we became friends. I didn’t mind as long as she didn’t complain about Lucy, my car. Lucy was old and had been labeled a piece of crap by Earl, the mechanic I’d been taking her to for years. “Don’t call her that,” I had to chastise him every time I took Lucy for an oil change. “You’ll hurt her feelings. She may be older than all the other cars you work on, but she’s the toughest,” I’d point out, patting her rusty hood. I loved Lucy. I purchased her after I turned sixteen. I logged more hours at Denny’s than I cared to think about and even fit in some babysitting jobs on the side, all so I could buy Lucy free and clear. She might not be as pretty as she once was, but she sure as hell was reliable. I’d kick anyone’s ass that dared to argue.

“Gaaaaaaaaah, what is with the heat in this car?” Amanda wrapped a scarf around her neck and face until only her eyes and forehead were visible. I should have expected her to complain considering the frigid nighttime temperature.

I fiddled with the controls, hoping to coax a little more heat from the vents to pacify her. “You mean Lucy, and she doesn’t want to spoil you.” Lucy was a bit temperamental when it came to certain things, like heat and air-conditioning. Both wheezed from her vents like she was struggling to breathe. Earl claimed it was because she was going to drop dead at any moment. He’d been saying it for years, so I didn’t put much stock in his words. Deep down I think he liked Lucy.

By the time I pulled up to Amanda’s dorm building on the east end of campus, Lucy was slightly warmer than the current temperature outside, but Amanda’s teeth were still chattering. “I’m buying a blanket to keep in here.”

“It could be worse. You could be freezing your ass off waiting for the bus,” I reminded her, smiling sweetly as she stuck out her tongue before slamming the door so it would close properly. Lucy was a bit temperamental about that, too.

Whipping a U-turn, I headed toward Hamilton Street, where I shared a house with my friends Indy, Misha, and Chloe. We’d been strangers when we all moved into the cute house, but we quickly found out how well we meshed.

All the lights except the living room appeared to be off at Hamilton House, which was the name we christened our abode with when we moved in. (I wasn’t the only one who liked to name inanimate objects.) I pulled into the driveway, parking Lucy in my usual spot in front of the house, and got out to trudge through the foot of snow that had been too stubborn to melt since Mother Nature dumped it on us the previous week. I slid my key into the lock and stomped the snow from my boots before quietly pushing the door open. It was almost one a.m., which was the only downfall to working at Gruby’s. Thankfully my earliest classes were at ten on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The other days I didn’t have anything until noon, so I was able to get some sleep in.

Misha was on the couch reading a thick novel with her boyfriend’s head in her lap as I quietly closed the front door behind me. “Hey,” she greeted me softly after sticking a bookmark between the pages.

“Hey, what are you guys doing up so late? Don’t you have class at like eight tomorrow morning?” Placing my gloves and hat in the pockets, I hung my heavy pea coat on the rack by the door, draping my scarf on the hook along with it. It was a routine Mom had trained me into years ago after I kept coming home with either my hat or one of my mittens missing. Raising a kid on a shoestring budget meant every cent counted, so lost mittens and hats were never a good thing. Mom had a good job that she loved at the Department of Children and Families, but the pay sucked. Still she had always managed to stretch the money so I never went without. Not that designer clothes or electronic gadgets ever showed up under our Christmas tree, but I never missed them. I admired Mom greatly for the work she did. Lots of kids were less fortunate than I was.

“The class was canceled, so I figured I’d catch up on a little reading. I’ve been dying to finish this new novel.” She stroked a hand over Darryn’s forehead, gently waking him.

“Lucky you. I wish one of my classes would get canceled. Professor Zeal is trying pretty damned hard to ruin early American history for me. He couldn’t be any more boring if he decided to start showing bowling videos in class. His voice is the most monotone thing I’ve ever heard.”

Misha chuckled as Darryn opened his eyes and grinned sleepily at me. “Consider it future practice for when you’re poring over classic art or whatever other things you would do as a museum curator.”

“But that won’t be boring. That will be—” My words ended with a sigh. My lifelong dream of working in an art museum seemed distant at the moment. Getting through the required classes had become daunting. Who knew history professors would be so freaking boring?

“Don’t worry. You got this. You ready for bed, babe?” she asked Darryn, rising from the couch and reaching down to help him up. He stretched and yawned before draping an arm across Misha’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Are you heading to bed, too?”

“Yeah, after I wash the fried food stench off me.” She clicked off the lamp in the living room as I walked away, waving.

The sounds of smooching filled the darkness almost immediately. They were a cute couple, and I loved Misha to death. I was happy for her. I switched on the hallway light so I wouldn’t kill myself walking down the hall. “You guys have fun.”

“Night, Court,” they said in unison, which would have been nauseating coming from any other couple.

“Night, MD.” I could hear more face sucking as I headed wearily toward the bathroom. Hence the nickname. They were always attached at the hip anyway. Admittedly I felt a tad envious even though I had no energy for a boyfriend. The only thing on my agenda was a shower and bed. Not that thoughts of Dalton hadn’t crept into my head. I was sure tonight wouldn’t be the last time I saw him. I would do my best to avoid him from now on, and we could continue on the separate paths our lives had taken.

Early American history the next morning proved to be as boring as always. Taking endless notes on my iPad while Professor Zeal droned on about the first transcontinental railroad would have been interesting if he could have injected any kind of enthusiasm into his voice.

My afternoon was spent in the campus library working on a paper I had due the following week. I got so wrapped up in research I nearly forgot to head to work. Luckily I managed to make it through the front doors of Gruby’s at five o’clock on the nose, despite the snow flutters that had started midday.

“Wow, for a minute there I thought you were going to be late,” Jill, one of the hostesses, greeted me as I walked in shaking a light layer of snow off my jacket.

I grinned, knowing I had probably ruined a bet for someone. “I’m never late,” I said, draping my jacket over my arm and heading to the back room to stow my belongings.

“It could happen,” Jill called after me before turning to greet three middle-aged men dressed in business suits.

Her words cracked me up. The staff had a standing bet on when and if I’d ever show up late. In all the years that I had been out in the workforce, I’d never been late. Only once when I was a teenager and working at Denny’s had I ever called in, and that was because my mom was sick with pneumonia and refused to go see a doctor. I practically bullied her into going, and had to drive her there myself to be sure.

The kitchen was buzzing with activity as I walked through the swinging doors that separated the back from the dining area.

“Hey, girl, how they hanging?” Jimmy, one of the line cooks, called out.

“No flies on me,” I responded with my normal answer. Jimmy roared with laughter like it was the first time he’d ever heard me say it. At seventy-six years old, he should be sitting on a porch, people-watching or tinkering with some old car, but instead he was working at Gruby’s. He always said he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he sat at home all day. We were the lucky ones since he kept the kitchen lively and was a blast to have around. He had basically become an honorary grandpa to all the servers, allowing us to pour our college woes out to him. With more wisdom than all of us put together, he had an answer for every dilemma.

Any time the school’s basketball game was on TV, it meant Gruby’s would be packed, and tonight was no exception. Every TV in the restaurant was tuned to the same channel. You could barely hear yourself talk as loud, eager fans erupted in one fashion or another, depending on whether something good or something bad happened to the team.

I followed the game as best I could while I worked, managing to notice each time the announcer would mention number nineteen, which around here, unless you lived under a rock, you knew was Dalton. Judging by the constant mention of his name, it was obvious Dalton was having a great game. Rolling my eyes, I continued to take orders and hand out food. It seemed like there was no escaping Dalton Thompson as long as I was working at a sports bar. I guess I should have considered that when Amanda got me the job here. My old restaurant went belly-up right before the holidays. Nothing says merry Christmas like unemployment. Needless to say, I jumped at the chance to work at Gruby’s. Although right now the job had lost some of its luster.

As my rotten luck would have it, the waitressing gods not only screwed me over, but also kicked me in the teeth that night. Three hours into my shift and an hour after the game ended, the restaurant erupted into loud cheers when a handful of the players walked through the front door, including Dalton, who was leading the show. He grinned at everyone chanting his name and waved like he was the Prince of England or something.

Biting back a groan, I headed to the kitchen to avoid the spectacle.

“What’s going on out there? Did the president of the United States just walk in the door?” Jimmy asked, wiping his hands on the dish towel that was stuck in the waistband of his apron.

I snorted. “I’m not sure he would have gotten that kind of welcome. Some of the team just walked in. You know—the ones who feel they deserve to be worshipped.”

“Sweetheart, you might as well accept that basketball is sacred around here and those that do it well will be worshipped as gods,” Jimmy drawled, winking at me.

“You’re as bad as everyone else. So they can get an orange ball through a hoop, who cares? Let’s see them carry a tray with twelve drinks and two appetizers without dropping it and maybe then I’ll worship them,” I grumbled, grabbing table five’s order before heading back out. I shook my head when I saw that the players now inhabited table seven in my section. Several curse words silently tumbled from my mouth as I spotted the back of Dalton’s head. It was official. The waitressing gods hated me.

chapter four

Dalton

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as the guys and I pushed our way through the double doors of Gruby’s. I owned that court tonight. I’d been in the fucking zone, and I was still completely pumped. At times like this I couldn’t help feeling invincible, which was why I talked the guys into hitting Gruby’s to celebrate. I’d been unable to get Courtney out of my mind all day. Knowing she was at work maybe watching each shot I nailed made me a beast on the court, getting me a triple double for my efforts.

This time when the hostess greeted us, I specifically requested Courtney’s zone. The guys tried to give me shit when I made the request, but I didn’t care. I was bound and determined to get her to acknowledge our past friendship.

She studied the seating chart before answering, “I hope you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

“Do what you have to do.”

People I didn’t know began coming over to shake our hands, congratulating us on the win tonight. It was a weird feeling at first, but after two years, I’d gotten used to it. Scanning the area, I smiled when I spotted Courtney on the other side of the restaurant. She was chatting with an older couple. Even with the distance separating us, I could tell her actions were animated and her eyes sparkled. She threw her head back, laughing at something the elderly gentleman said. Last night I’d thought she was pretty, but in a cute way. Seeing her so carefree, I realized she was downright beautiful. I didn’t remember her being this attractive back in school. I found myself envious of the older man. I wanted to be the one to make her laugh like that. I’d never had any trouble getting a girl I was interested in, but right now the only person I wanted was acting like I didn’t exist.

“Your table’s ready, guys,” the hostess said, approaching us.

“Bro, you were fucking insane tonight,” Chad said after we sat down. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re always a badass on the court, but tonight it was like you were channeling Kobe Bryant or something. What was up with that?”

I shrugged modestly. “I don’t know. I was in the zone, I guess.”

“No shit,” Collin agreed, looking up when Courtney approached our table. I flashed a smile, but she didn’t even bother to look at me.

“What can I get you guys?”

My eyes followed her hand that pulled a pad from her slinky apron. Her waist was tiny. I bet I could have circled it with both my hands. I considered trying, but I wasn’t overly convinced she wouldn’t stab me with a steak knife. I brought my eyes back up slowly. I’m not going to lie. They might have lingered on her breasts for a moment before finding her face. I could tell my appraisal hadn’t gone unnoticed. “What can I get you to drink?”

I shifted in my seat, tugging on my jeans that were becoming uncomfortable at the moment. Using my coat to cover the evidence, I willed my mind to think of anything that did not involve the luscious blonde in front of me. It took a second to make my body respond to the images of wrinkly old people in bathing suits. It was a trick I’d learned when I was fourteen and my parents took me to Daytona Beach. It was the only way I could keep from sporting a constant hard-on from all the chicks in bikinis walking around. Trust me, that is not something you want your mother to see.

“I’ll take a Coke,” Collin answered. He looked at me like I was nuts.

“Me, too,” Chad piped in.

“Me three.” I could have kicked my own ass. It sounded funny in my head, but I wished I could have taken it back the moment the words left my mouth.

“Got it. Do you guys know what you want to eat, or do you need a few minutes?”

“I know what I want,” Chad said as he began to rattle off his order.

“I need a few minutes.” I interrupted him before he could finish, picking up a menu that I probably could have recited with my eyes closed.

“Bro, are you kidding? Since when do you not know what you want?”

I kicked him hard in the shin under the table.

“What the fuck, dude?”

Courtney cut her eyes toward me, eyeing me suspiciously before shrugging. “Okay, then, I’ll go get your drinks while you make up your mind,” she said, pulling her eyes away.

“Why the hell did you kick me? You always get a burger,” Chad demanded once she walked away, reaching a hand down to rub his shin where I’d kicked him.

“Sorry, man. I felt like something different.” What was I going to do, admit it was all a lame ploy, an excuse to have her come back to our table? Maybe I could also hang a bitch sign around my neck for good measure. I didn’t know why I cared so much. If I was just looking to get laid, I could get that by standing up and proclaiming that I was looking for company. This was something else. Maybe I was feeling nostalgic about a time when everything didn’t revolve around basketball, and Dad wasn’t constantly breathing down my neck. When Courtney and I had been friends, everything just seemed so much easier.

Chad looked at me skeptically but refrained from saying anything else.

“Hey, am I the only one who thought those guys were about ready to bawl when you drained four three-pointers in a row?” Collin crowed, changing the subject. That was Collin. He was the peacekeeper.

“Couldn’t have done it unless you pulled down all those boards,” I pointed out, sharing the glory of the game. “I actually felt bad for them once we went up twenty-five points.”

“Not me. They can go back home and maybe take up knitting jockstraps or something,” Collin added.

Chad and I laughed. Collin was ruthless on the court. It was what made him a great player. You had to be aggressive to make plays, and he could be a game changer when he wanted to.

We were still trading insults about the other school when Courtney returned with our drinks. Our voices had gotten loud, and several tables around us had joined in on the roast. I was in the middle of laughing at an inappropriately mean comment about the only balls they should be dribbling when my eyes met Courtney’s. Her animosity was hard to miss. It was clear she was pissed. Maybe she had turned into some religious nut that was easily offended by swearing and harmless razzing.

The laughter dried up in my throat. I tried smiling to let her know we were kidding. She, of course, didn’t return it. This chick was seriously hard-core immune to flirting. Her nickname should be the Brick Wall.

“Are you guys ready to order?” she asked impatiently, placing our cups on the table harder than necessary. Coke sloshed over, soaking the stack of napkins she had set down. “Oh, fuck me,” she muttered, wiping up the mess before it covered the entire table.

“Is that an invitation?” I said the words without giving conscious thought to them. It was like an instinct.

“No, thanks. There’s no telling what I would catch.”

Chad hollered as the rest of the guys erupted into laughter. “Shit. That’s harsh. You just got served, dude.”

Courtney ignored his comment and stood disdainfully, waiting for us to place our orders. It was as if one of our moms were standing in front of us.

Chad, Dave, and Collin cleared their throats and put in their orders, leaving me for last.

“I’ll take the half-court burger with extra cheese,” I ordered without opening the menu.

“Fries or tots?”

Chad grinned widely but refrained from commenting when I kicked him under the table again. “Tots,” I answered.

“Anything else?”

“How about your number?” I figured I might as well take the shot since she had already blasted me in front of everyone.

“Why?” For the first time, I had her undivided attention.

She didn’t say no, which was a small victory. I savored it for a second before answering, “Normal reasons—talking, for example, and so I can ask you out sometime.” I flashed my full-wattage smile, taking advantage of having her attention.

For a moment I thought I was making headway until she looked like she wanted to puke. Was the idea of dating me really that appalling?

“I don’t date jockstrap wearers.” She turned to leave before I lobbed back my response.

“Lucky for me, basketball players don’t wear jockstraps.”

She paused midstep but didn’t turn back to look at me.

“Bro, I’m going to fuck you up if you kick me again,” Chad threatened once she was out of earshot.

Collin snorted, clapping him on the back. “You wish. Dalton would wipe the floor with you. One time when we were all playing a game at the rec center, some dipshit thought he could keep pushing our man Dalton here. Dalton tolerated his shit for the first fifteen minutes or so, but then the dickhead knocked Dalton out of bounds with a cheap shot. My boy didn’t even hesitate. He clocked him so hard he was out for the count. It was classic, baby. Dalton is the fucking man.”

“What are you, his manager? Or maybe it’s something else. I didn’t know you swung from that tree. Do I need to leave you two alone?”

“Shit, I’d make you my bitch, fool. Believe that. Everyone wants a piece of the Collin Man,” Collin bragged, making a show of kissing his own biceps.

“Right. You and Tater Tots here are both shooting zero-for-two at the moment. I don’t need to kick Dalton’s ass, ’cause Courtney is doing it for me.”

“Fuck that,” I piped in. “I’m just getting started, Smalls. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be closing that shit soon enough.” It wasn’t meant to sound cocky, just confident based on my experience with the ladies.

chapter five

Courtney

I pushed through the swinging kitchen door and leaned against the wall, trying to clear my head. The dirty dishes slid off my tray, crashing to the floor. Mercifully they didn’t break. Dalton Thompson had just asked for my number. He had to be screwing with me. He’d never looked in my direction the whole time we were at Grant High together and now suddenly he was interested. I felt like I was being Punk’d.

“Wow, my princess. You break-a my dishes, you break-a my heart. What has my little tigress so upset?” Jimmy asked, drying his hands on his apron and slinging a fatherly arm across my shoulders. “Whose ass do I need to kick?”

I bit back a shaky smile. “Just some jockstrap who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. He can’t seem to take a hint.”

“Someone harassing you?” Chuck asked as he joined us. Standing six foot three, Chuck was a beast. His frame was like a grizzly bear’s, so when his chest puffed up, he was quite intimidating. I briefly entertained the idea of what Dalton would do if I sent Chuck out in my place. The thought definitely had its merits, and would give me some satisfaction.

At least it might dim his inviting smile, that hypnotic voice, and those warm eyes. That was the part of him I remembered the most. I’d always loved his eyes. There was something about seeing him in person again, and the sparkle in his eyes, that didn’t project from any of the banners hanging around campus.

I patted Chuck’s arm, smiling. “Easy, big fella. I’ll handle him.”

“Maybe I should go out there and emphasize that when a lady says no, she means no,” he added, cracking his knuckles. “Tell me who needs a little reminder.”

I laughed at the thought of Chuck confronting Dalton in my honor. That was all we needed, to start a brawl with the school’s basketball savior. Chuck’s sentiment was sweet but would be the end of Gruby’s. “It’s Dalton Thompson, but don’t worry. I can handle him.”

“The Dalton Thompson? All-American, conference champion, future lottery pick—that Dalton Thompson?”

“Seriously? You, too?” I snorted with disbelief. “Please tell me you’re not riding the Dalton bandwagon like everyone else around here.”

“Honey, I’d drive that bandwagon if they’d let me. Dalton is one of those once-in-a-generation types of players. He’s got more talent in his pinkie than everyone else on the team combined. We were lucky he chose to come here to play ball. Trust me, that kid has a huge future.”

“Oh Lord. So the guy is good at basketball. Why put him on such a pedestal?”

“Dalton isn’t just a phenom on the court, he’s a good guy. Believe me, with his talent he could be a prima donna, but he seems to have a good head on his shoulders. My nephew went to his basketball clinic last summer, and let me tell you, that guy has the patience of a saint. I love my nephew, but let’s face it. Seven-year-olds can be little shits. Any guy that can tolerate a gym full of rug rats at one time is some kind of kid whisperer. Trust me. There’s probably not many other players of his stature giving up their spare time to give free basketball clinics to kids.”

I digested Chuck’s words. Grudgingly I had to agree. It was a decent thing for Dalton to do.

“Do you really not like him?” Chuck inquired.

“I don’t dislike him, per se. He’s just not my favorite person. I’m not interested in becoming part of his entourage. And I definitely don’t consider myself a basketball groupie.”

Chuck laughed. “I can’t deny he seems to do well at attracting the ladies, but from what I’ve seen here, he’s respectful.”

“Respectful, meaning he doesn’t push them out of bed without saying good-bye first?” My snarkiness continued to amuse Chuck.

“Well, I can’t speak accurately about Dalton Thompson’s bedroom behavior. All I can offer is my opinion of what I know about the guy from observing him here. I’m just saying don’t judge the guy before you really get to know him. Regardless, I think my offer to intervene was a little premature. You obviously have a handle on the situation.” He winked at me, heading toward his office.

The problem was I did already know him. Taking the chicken’s way out, I talked Amanda into trading tables with me. I could tell she was puzzled by my request, but she readily agreed. She was more than happy to have a chance to chat it up with Collin.

I dropped off the check at the table I’d taken over from Amanda. The guy handed over his credit card without even checking the bill. That was a surefire sign that a customer was ready to go. I cashed him out swiftly before heading to my table of tipsy sorority girls who were flagging me down for another round of drinks.

“Another refill, ladies?” I asked, grabbing the empty margarita pitcher.

“Woot, woot, heck yeah. Keep it flowing,” one of the girls hollered, flashing a wide smile. At least they were happy drinkers.

“Coming right up.” I left them to their not-so-private conversation about some guy who they heard had piercings in some interestingly inconspicuous places.

“Hey, Paul. Can I get another pitcher for table five?” I perched myself on one of the barstools to wait.

“Sure thing. Give me a few seconds.” He filled two shot glasses for a couple of women dressed in business suits. The lanyards around their necks indicated they worked for the university in some capacity. They clinked glasses before sucking down the contents. One of them started coughing as the whiskey burned a path down her throat, making her friend laugh while she patted her on the back. “You’ll get used to it,” she chortled. “If we’re going to play with the big boys, we need to be able to hang, or they’ll crush us.” She signaled Paul, who was putting the finishing touches on my margaritas.

“What’s up with that?” I whispered.

“Battle of the sexes. From what I gather, the school treats the men a little better than the women.”

“Shocking,” I said sarcastically. The world treated men and women differently. Why should our university be any different? Especially when it came to athletics. You could be at the highest end of the spectrum in academics, but you were still a second-class citizen when compared to big-time sports programs. “I’m surprised the president of the university doesn’t walk around with his lips stuck to the players’ asses.”

“Who says he doesn’t? You have any idea how much money the sports programs generate for the school? As harsh as that sounds, the money allows for programs at the college that might be cut otherwise,” he pointed out, sliding over to refill the ladies’ shot glasses.

I knew what he said was true, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sometimes feel like they were rubbing our noses in it. Still, I guess twenty thousand people weren’t filling an arena every few nights to see an art exhibit or a science experiment. I knew I was just being overly sensitive. Seeing Dalton two days in a row had me a little cranky.

Shaking my head, I grabbed the freshly mixed pitcher and headed back to my table of girls, who had begun chanting my name while I was gone.

“Here you go, ladies,” I said, sliding the pitcher on the table.

“You’re the best, Courtney-y-y. I seriously love you,” Misty, one of the girls, drawled as she snagged my hand. She pulled me into the booth and slung her drunken arm across my shoulders. “Don’t you guys just love Courtney? She’s so cute and sweet.” She planted a wet kiss on my check, making me blanch slightly, but I allowed it. I knew Misty from a few classes we had taken together. She was harmless. We had one of those kinds of friendships where we acted happy to see each other and always made promises to hang out, but neither of us ever took the extra step to do so.

“If I ever went gay, I’d totally want it to be with you,” she continued.

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard all night, but you’d probably have a fight on your hands. I’ve been propositioned by my fair share of friends,” I said, standing.

“Aw, I get it. You’re a tease,” one of Misty’s friends declared.

“Oh, look, Cass is totally falling asleep,” another of the girls said, elbowing Cass in the arm.

“I am not. I was resting my eyeballs for a moment. They were tired of looking at you.” They all giggled when her friends pouted in response. “I’m kidding. I love you like a drunk loves to drink.”

“Gee, thanks. Why can’t you say something sweet like Misty said to Courtney?” She rolled her eyes and took another swig of the drink in her glass.

I laughed but left them to their drunken compliments.

Travis, one of the busers, snagged my attention as I walked by. “Hey, Courtney.” He was busy clearing one of my previous tables.

“Hey, Trav. How’s the band?” Travis belonged to a kick-ass band, but they would constantly fight and break up because of their tempers.

He sighed before providing the inevitable answer. “We’re on a break again. I swear to God, I feel like I’m in some fucked-up relationship with a chick, as much as we fight.”

I clucked my tongue sympathetically, running a rag across the surface of the table. “What is it this time?”

“Slick thinks we should all wear spandex to our shows. Ripped spandex to be exact.”

“Um, eww.”

He sighed again in defeat. “I know, right? Marcus told him he was high as a kite. Needless to say, the conversation didn’t end well.”

“I’m sorry, Travis. They’ll work it out.” I patted him on the back as he set off with the tub of dirty dishes in hand. I used my rag to clean off the bench seat, brushing any crumbs to the floor.

“Hey,” Amanda said, sliding into the empty booth I had wiped down. I could tell she wanted something by the way she fiddled with the saltshaker. “So, you remember how grateful you were when I got you this job?”

“Yes,” I answered apprehensively, sensing I wouldn’t like where this was going.

“And how you claimed you would owe me big-time?”

“If I remember right, you said it was no big deal.”

“True, but then you insisted. As a matter of fact, I distinctly remember you saying I saved your life.”

I didn’t say anything this time. Judging by the way she was laying it on thick, this was going to be a doozy.

“The way I figure it, saving someone’s life is a pretty big deal. I’m guessing it would mean that person would do anything to repay the debt.”

“You mean like chauffeur that person around every other day so she doesn’t have to walk or wait for the bus in the frigid temperatures?”

She paused. Obviously she hadn’t considered that before approaching me with whatever this big request was going to be. “No, it needs to be something bigger.”

“Spit it out, then. What do you want?”

“Go on a double date with me.”

“Are you asking me out?” I teased, placing my hands on my hips.

“You wish, sugar lips.” She laughed and ducked her head when I swung the rag at her. “I want you to go with Collin’s friend.”

“Which friend?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Dalton! Can you believe that? He’s totally into you. I know you have that crazy ‘I don’t date basketball players’ thing, but this is Dalton Thompson. If I didn’t like Collin, I’d be totally jealous.”

I was already shaking my head before she could finish her statement. “Amanda, I can’t.”

“Why not?” She stood up from the booth, glaring at me with her hands on her hips.

“Because, Amanda. You just said it yourself. I don’t date basketball players.” In all honesty, I would have said yes if she had picked any other basketball player for me to go out with.

“Is this a short person thing?”

I swatted at her. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Well, unless it’s something legitimate, you don’t have a viable excuse. Don’t make me play the ‘you owe me’ card. Just think. If you go, we’ll be even.”

I was still shaking my head, but her pitiful expression was crumbling my resolve.

“Please, Courtney. I’ll be your BFF.”

“You’re already my BFF and we’re not in grade school.”

“Say you’ll go,” she pled. “Ple-e-ease.”

I had to say yes. I’d be a complete bitch otherwise. I nodded as Amanda squealed, dragging me in for an excited hug as she jumped up and down. I was screwed.

chapter six

Dalton

It was a complete stroke of genius to crash Collin’s date with Amanda. At first I’d been disappointed Courtney didn’t come back to our table, until I realized Amanda was a friend of hers. I seized the opportunity to pump her for information. When Collin and Amanda started making plans to go out, I shamelessly jumped onboard, suggesting we should double-date. This time it was Collin’s turn to kick me under the table, but I ignored him. He owed me.

The next night I swung by to pick up Collin on the way to get the girls at Amanda’s dorm. “I still can’t believe you latched on to my date. Why didn’t you just ask this chick out yourself?”

I shrugged. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, I volunteered to drive, didn’t I?”

“How the hell does that make up for cock-blocking me? What is it about this girl that’s making you act like such a pussy?” He adjusted the vents in the car so the heat was directed at him.

“It’s nothing. We were friends once and now she’s acting a little weird. I figured this way she wouldn’t be able to run off without talking to me.”

“You obviously can’t hear yourself. ‘Oh, I hope she talks to me.’” He batted his eyes, making his best attempt to sound like a girl.

I couldn’t help laughing even though he was making fun of me. That still didn’t mean he didn’t get sucker punched in the arm as we pulled into the parking lot of Amanda’s dorm.

“Hey, dick. Just be a man and admit you want to tap that. Own it.” He rubbed his arm, complaining.

“Don’t worry about what I want,” I warned as we trekked through the snow toward the building.

“Take a pill, Nancy. You should be kissing my ass anyway for letting you tag along.”

I would have answered, but I spotted Courtney and Amanda walking toward us from the common area inside the building. Amanda flashed a brilliant smile at Collin. Courtney, on the other hand, glared at me. One way or another I planned on getting to the bottom of her animosity tonight. “Hey,” I greeted her.

“Hey,” she answered without looking up at me. I think the only reason she acknowledged me was because Amanda nudged her with her elbow. Things quickly became awkward as we stood facing each other with no one saying a word.

“So, everybody knows each other, right? Collin, Dalton—Amanda, Courtney,” Amanda said, pointing back and forth. “This ought to be fun, don’t you think?”

“You’re crazy, girl.” Collin laughed, throwing his arm around her shoulder. We fell into typical two-by-two double date formation with Courtney and me trailing behind as we all walked to the car. I had a ton of shit I wanted to say, but I felt tongue-tied. Collin was right. I was acting like a wuss. I never got tripped up around the ladies. Of course, I’d never had one treat me like such a dirtbag.

Amanda and Collin climbed into the backseat, leaving Courtney to ride shotgun. I could tell by her hesitation that she wasn’t happy about the arrangement, but she never spoke up.

Amanda kept the car ride from becoming uncomfortable by maintaining a running commentary, mostly about basketball. I had to hand it to her. She knew her shit. Courtney didn’t say much despite my efforts to coax her to open up. By the time I pulled into the parking lot of the bowling alley, I was about over it. It was cool seeing her after all these years, and even though I was curious about what her problem was, I wasn’t going to put up with the attitude all night.

I waited until Collin and Amanda entered the bowling alley ahead of us before snagging Courtney’s hand to pull her to a stop.

She jerked her hand free, looking like she could have taken a swing at me. “What the hell?”

“Shouldn’t those be my words? What’s your deal?” I shoved my hands into my pockets in frustration. “Are you completely forgetting that we were friends once?”

“Me? You’re the one who forgot that.” She turned toward the building until I reached out and snagged her hand again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you really that dense? I didn’t think basketball was a contact sport, but you must have taken some shots to the head.”

“What are you talking about? I mean yeah, we stopped hanging out, but we were kids. I don’t understand why we have to be enemies now.”

“Yo, are you guys coming?” Collin yelled from the front door.

“In a minute, bro,” I called back.

Courtney snorted with disbelief before shaking her head, muttering, “Stopped hanging out? Let me clue you in, sport-o. We didn’t stop hanging out. You did. One minute we’re friends and the next you’re gone. All you cared about was basketball. I know that was important, but you just dropped me.”

She stomped off toward the entrance and I let her go this time as I processed her words. Her reasoning felt crazy. We were just kids. What happened to our friendship had been mutual. Well, my dad had a lot to do with it, but she was forgetting all the times I tried reaching out to her. She was the one who acted like she had other shit going on that didn’t concern me. She was the one who became distant. I hadn’t thought about anything from back then for a long time, but it was all suddenly coming back to me now. My dad was all over my ass. Every day it was practice, practice, practice for hours. I remember needing someone to talk to, but the few times I tried with Courtney she pretty much dissed me. I always assumed us drifting apart was a mutual thing. It floored me that she felt I was responsible.

I jogged after her, shaking my head with disbelief. I caught up to her as she was trying to pay for her shoe rental.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Uh—getting my shoes. What do you mean?”

“Like it or not, this is a date. There’s no way in hell I’m letting my girl pay.”

“I’m not your girl,” she said as the pimply-faced teenager behind the counter grinned at us, obviously enjoying the free show.

“Hey, aren’t you Dalton Thompson?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Oh brother,” Courtney said, snatching her shoes off the counter.

“Yeah, what’s up? I need size fifteen and I’ll cover both.” I handed over a ten-dollar bill.

“You think I could get your autograph?” He held up a pen and notepad after placing my change and a pair of bowling shoes on the counter.

I signed the notepad and caught up with Courtney, who was seated at a table changing into her bowling shoes. “Look, Court,” I said, falling back on the nickname I’d used when we were younger. “I didn’t realize you thought I had ditched you. I mean, you remember how my dad was. I guess I always assumed the way basketball sort of took over my life that we both just got busy and stopped making time for each other.”

“It’s no big deal.” The way she tightened up her laces made me think otherwise.

“It is a big deal. Look, I’m sorry if I was the asshole in this situation. I know the past is the past, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends now, right? Come on. Friends?” I asked, holding out my hand.

She studied my outstretched hand for a moment before reluctantly placing hers on top. “Fine, friends.”

What I didn’t admit was that I wanted to be more than friends. Everything about Courtney appealed to me. I wanted to discover everything I’d missed over the last eight years.

“Are we playing or what?”Amanda hollered from a nearby lane, interrupting our private chat.

Courtney at least loosened up after that and became marginally warmer as the evening progressed. She surprised me by being a kick-ass bowler and wickedly competitive, like me. I used it to my advantage by goading her into a wager.

“You’re not going to welsh when I seal the deal on this last ball, are you?” I asked, waiting for my ball to return from my first attempt. I should have felt a little remorseful for hustling her phone number out of her, but she didn’t have to take the bet.

“Just roll the ball.” She sat with her arms folded across her chest, knowing she had been defeated. Amanda seemed to find my persistence hilarious while Collin eyed me like aliens had taken over my body. He’d never seen me go to this much trouble chasing a chick. I’d have to corner him before he ran his mouth off to all the guys.

I had to hand it to Courtney. She paid up fair and square. I felt the date had gone well, which only left one thing. I’d given a great deal of thought to the good-night kiss. I had a whole plan worked out, but Courtney dashed it before I had a chance to put it into effect. She practically leaped from my car as soon as we got back to Amanda’s dorm. One minute she was next to me; the next she was gone, like the Flash. She must have tipped off her friend ahead of time, because Amanda didn’t even comment. Collin looked back at me, grinning as he walked Amanda to her dorm. No doubt he’d get a kiss. I was tempted to leave his ass.

I told Collin before dropping him off he’d pay if he harassed me about Courtney in front of the guys, but truthfully I was kidding. I knew he wouldn’t do that. When I got home I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Courtney’s number. Hitting her up this soon would look desperate, and yet I couldn’t put the phone down.

Hey, I texted, feeling like a fool.

Hey yourself. The reply was almost instantaneous, like she was holding her phone.

What R U doing?

Getting ready for bed. U?

And didn’t that conjure wonderful images?

Vegging on my couch.

Fun. Did U need something?

Ouch. She didn’t mess around. Nah, I just wanted to tell U I had fun tonight. U jetted out so quick I didn’t get a chance to mention it. I’d like to see you again. Soon.

Oh, I had fun, too.

But??? I knew a brush-off when I saw one.

No but. I’m just really busy and don’t have much time for the whole dating thing.

I studied her message for a minute before replying. I’d been expecting this. Even though we had made progress tonight, I could tell she had been holding back. I’m not asking you to marry me. We can keep it casual.

Her return text was slow to come in. I groaned when it did. I had walked right into that one. I’m sure casual is the only word you know. No, thanks.

Come on, I didn’t mean it like that. When did you become so elusive?

By elusive you mean why don’t I fall over on my back with my legs spread?

Ouch. Harsh, babe. I wouldn’t let U fall.

Nice try.

You’re tough. What does a guy have to do to get a break?

Maybe not hit on every girl he meets.

Who says I do that?

Please. I’ve seen you in action.

The truth comes out, you’ve been stalking me.

U wish. You’ve been a player since high school.

High school? Give me some credit. I’m more mature now. Scout’s honor.

Ha, you were never a Boy Scout.

Doesn’t mean I’m not a good guy.

So you say.

R U always so distrustful?

Only with basketball players that try to play games off the court, too.

I’m not that guy.

Right, and I’m not rolling my eyes.

I’m going to prove I’m different.

I don’t see how.

I hope you like surprises, because I believe in go big or go home.

We shall see. Lots of guys overestimate their appeal.

I’m wounded. My thumbs flew across the screen. Despite her harsh judgment, I was enjoying myself immensely. She was quick witted and funny in a sarcastic way.

I’m sure. I better go. I have stuff I need to catch up on in the morning.

Okay, I’ll text you tomorrow.

Don’t you have a game or something?

I do but there will be some downtime.

I’ll probably be busy all day.

That’s fine. U can text when U have time. Night, Court.

She didn’t respond again, but I didn’t let it affect me. Chasing Courtney had become more fun than anything I’d done in a while. It was like playing in a big game. I enjoyed the challenge. I thrived on it. I was sure the guys on the team wouldn’t understand, but I didn’t care. Let them chase their own chicks their own way.

chapter seven

Courtney

The chime of an incoming text message woke me. Reaching over to my nightstand, I fumbled around for my cell phone with my eyes still closed. My hand closed around the phone, and I tried to pry my heavy eyelids open to peer at the screen, but they refused to cooperate.

I let my arm fall to the mattress, still clutching my phone in my hand. I needed to get up. There were a million errands to fit in before my shift at Gruby’s tonight. Of course, needing to get up and wanting to get up were two different things. Ignoring the voice of responsibility in my head, I burrowed deeper into my blanket. It was freaking freezing outside, and my bed felt too good. The sound of my phone chiming again made my eyelids spring open. Who could possibly be texting me so early?

Peering at the screen, I saw another text from Dalton. I couldn’t believe how persistent he was. It was hard to let go of all the hurt I’d allowed to fester into anger over the years, but he’d made a good point during our date last night. When Dalton had gotten too busy for me, I could have put up a fight. Instead I wallowed in self-pity. The few times he tried to call I’d always acted like I was too busy. After listening to his side of the story, I probably owed him the same apology he’d given me. That being said, clearing the air the way we had didn’t make it any easier to start dating him.

Morning, Sunshine. I snorted reading the message as a sensation of warmth filled my stomach.

Who is this?

U wound me.

I bet.

Seriously. Your words are like a knife to my tender heart.

Oh Lord. It’s getting deep in here. Where R U?

At the airport.

Fun.

Honestly, traveling is the worst part of the season.

You mean you don’t have fans everywhere you go?

Sure, sometimes. It’s still not like being home. Plus some of the guys are more responsible than others.

What about U?

I listen to Coach. Whatever he says goes.

What about when it comes to girls? How would your coach feel if he knew you were texting me, trying to get in my pants?

Hey! Whoa! Who said I was trying to get in your pants?

Do I have idiot stamped on my forehead?

Not sure. I’m not there.

Let’s assume I don’t. We both know what’s going on here. My words were blunt, but that was my intention.

We do?

Dalton, don’t be coy. It doesn’t suit you.

Fine. I like you, Court, and I want to go out with you even though you’re just trying to get in my pants. A startled laugh left me after reading his text. He was seriously incorrigible.

You’re a mess.

By mess you mean adorable, right?

Were you dropped on your head a lot as a baby?

Go out with me again. He switched gears, no longer dancing around what he wanted.

That would be a little hard since you’re out of town.

I mean when I get back.

That probably isn’t a good idea.

Why not?

Because I’ll spend the whole time trying to get in your pants. I could feel the corners of my mouth lifting, knowing he had just read my text.

That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Is that a yes?

The smile left my face as I studied his words. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. If I took the plunge, there was a chance it would leave my heart bleeding and broken on the rocks below. The kicker to the situation was that I did want to go out with him. His attention over the past week was a heady experience. More than half the female population on campus would gladly switch places with me. Maybe if I kept the date fun and casual without allowing my heart to become involved like before, I would be more comfortable saying yes.

Court???? R U still there?

Yep.

Will U?

How do I know you’re not toying with me? I hated that I felt the need to ask the question. It made me sound like some insecure little girl.

You’re going to have to trust me. I’m not going to hurt you again. I promise.

What are you willing to do?

U mean like to prove myself?

Yep.

Sounds like you already have something in mind.

Maybe.

Let me guess, you want me to tie myself to a flagpole and declare my love for you in front of everyone?

Sounds like you’re the one who had something in mind, I teased. It’s a good idea, but I had something else in mind. I couldn’t help giggling as I filled him in on what I expected him to do. If he actually went through with it, there would be no way I could say no to a date with him. I wasn’t even sure I would do what I asked if I were in his shoes. Regardless of the fun I was having, I reluctantly told him I needed to get going.

Our text conversation played through my head the rest of the day as I tried to cram a week’s worth of errands into a few hours. Saturdays were always my catch-up day since work, classes, and homework consumed my time during the week. Sunday was completely devoted to Mom. We’d made a pact years ago that we would always make Sundays our day to get together. We weren’t religious or anything. Mom just strongly felt Sunday should be a family day. It didn’t matter that it was just the two of us. It was because of her that I never missed not having a dad. Mom played both parental roles and she did it flawlessly. We had a special relationship.

Not surprisingly, Gruby’s was packed to the gills. Tonight’s game was nationally televised, which drew a lot of attention. There wasn’t a single empty seat in the place, meaning a great night of tips for me.

The game hadn’t started yet, but the pregame show was blaring from every TV. I was busy handling numerous tables but managed to catch snippets of the announcing crew discussing the team’s chances of being a number-one seed in the upcoming March tournament. My ears especially perked up when I heard them mention Dalton’s name. I stopped for a moment to watch the clips from the previous game showing Dalton shooting one three-pointer after another. The crowd in the restaurant cheered loudly with each swish through the net like it was happening live.

It felt strange to watch everyone react so strongly to everything he did. Like they were all worshipping Saint Dalton. I wondered what it must feel like knowing the hopes and dreams of an entire university rested in your hands. I felt the stirrings of doubt as I began to second-guess my decision to give him a chance. How could someone like him be interested in me? Of course, that was if he actually went through with his end of the bargain. If not, I’d have my out. The chances of him backing out had to be high. My request was admittedly ridiculous. Surely he’d come to his senses and move on to the next girl.

The sound of the announcers laughing on the TV grabbed my attention once again. “What does Dalton Thompson have painted on his face?” I pivoted around, groaning when I saw the glaring evidence of my dare on the giant six-foot screen. “Is that a heart?” one of the announcers asked incredulously.

Everyone in Gruby’s stared at the TV screens, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. I couldn’t believe he went through with it. A laugh bubbled up in my throat. He had risked making himself a bit of a spectacle to his teammates, coaches, and even the media to go out on one date with me. There was no way I could back out now.

Amanda squealed, sliding up next to me. “Holy shit. Why does Dalton have a heart stenciled on his cheek?”

I tried to look innocent, but the goofy grin on my face gave me away.

“Slap my ass and call me a tramp. You’re responsible for this?”

I clamped a hand across her mouth. “Shush, you don’t have to announce it to the whole restaurant.”

“Why is he wearing a heart?” she mumbled through my fingers.

“I sorta told him I’d go out with him again if he painted a bright red heart on his cheek for the game.” I admitted it but felt more than a little embarrassed about my request.

“OMG, that is fucking hilarious.”

I grinned at her. The announcers were still speculating about the heart. One commented maybe it had something to do with Valentine’s Day, even though that was a few weeks prior. The other suggested maybe it was for his mother. Regardless, the fact that Dalton Thompson did it made it news.

Amanda gushed now that my hand wasn’t wrapped around her mouth. “Holy crap. You’re going out with Dalton again?”

“And that’s the reaction I was worried about. One can’t simply go out with Dalton without everyone speculating. Can you imagine the shit he’s going to get?”

“What are you talking about? Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

I snorted. “Right, because I’m so knockout gorgeous.”

“Shut up. You have to know you’re a bombshell. Sure, maybe travel-sized, but beautiful nonetheless. You’re proportioned just right. Trust me. Girls are jealous of your knockers and ass.”

I laughed at her choice of words even though I was sure she was blowing sunshine up my ass. Long-legged twigs were what guys were looking for, in my opinion. I wasn’t sure what Dalton’s deal was with me. Maybe he had a list and he had reached short and curvy.

“How else do you figure you got a recognized player to paint his face for a nationally televised game? I couldn’t even get my douche-canoe ex to stick around.”

“Well, he was an ass. It seemed like you and Collin hit it off last night, though.”

“We did. We’re supposed to go out again when he gets back, but . . .”

“Oh no. What’s wrong with him?” I knew that tone in her voice. “You didn’t even give him a chance,” I said, thinking about poor Collin. Amanda’s dating track record was less than stellar.

“I don’t know. He seems a little too good to be true. I’m waiting for the second date to see if his true colors come out.”

“Oh my. God forbid he’s a good guy.”

“Ha. You’re a fine one to speak. You’ve got the team’s all-star jumping through hoops and you’re all like, ‘I’m too ugly.’ Seriously?”

“Don’t be a jerk.” I chuckled, swiping at her. “I bet Collin would do the same for you.”

She smirked. “I’m not so sure of that. Dalton is pursuing you like you’re holding the golden ticket to Wonka’s Factory. He wants your candy.”

“Shut it.” I frowned at her with butterflies dancing lightly in my stomach.

The heart on Dalton’s face was a popular topic the rest of the evening. Especially since Dalton played great, as usual. As the last few minutes of the game ticked away, the announcers declared the heart a lucky charm and speculated whether Dalton would repeat it for every game. I could have spoken up and at least set everyone at Gruby’s straight, but I kept my lips tightly closed.

chapter eight

Dalton

Did you see? I texted Sunday morning.

See what? The reply came back almost immediately, making me smile. I liked that Courtney responded so quickly. She must be at least a little interested in me.

Very funny. I have proof in case you missed it.

Okay, I might have seen it but I’m not sure the size justifies a date.

Nice try. I’ll pick you up at three tomorrow afternoon. I’d already prepared myself in case she tried to back out. There would be no chance of that.

What if I have to work?

U don’t. U told me yesterday U were off.

Aren’t you going to be tired from your trip? Her last-ditch attempt was cute, but I wasn’t budging.

Nope, I’ll be all rested up.

R U always such an eager beaver when U go out with someone?

Normally I don’t have to work so hard.

Great, so I’m like some conquest for sporty-boy who normally gets everything he wants just by smiling?

Well, my smile is pretty amazing.

Oh Lord. I think I’m coming down with a stomach bug.

Look, you’re not a conquest.

Then what am I?

A refreshing change.

I may have just sprained my eyes from rolling them.

You’re still going. I’ll be there by three.

Don’t you want my address?

I chuckled, earning a grin from Collin, who was sprawled across the seats next to me in the airport. I have my ways. Hamilton Street, right?

Really? How?

Can’t reveal my sources.

Typical.

We were getting ready to board our plane, so I had to say good-bye, which was probably a good thing. The way my luck had started with Courtney, I’d say something she would take out of context and I’d be in the doghouse again.

“Bro, you got it bad,” Collin observed.

He didn’t know the half of it. He’d really think I was a pussy if he saw all the messages we’d exchanged.

“You’re just jealous.”

“You wish. I got my own thing working.”

“We’ll see. Amanda is known for chewing guys up and spitting them out.”

“That’s because she’s never rode the Collin train,” he said, cracking a smile.

“Wow, you should tell her that. I bet she’d tear her clothes off.”

“Do I look stupid?”

“Well, now that you asked . . .”

He chucked his empty water bottle at me, which I slapped away easily.

Collin was cool, but I had my own girl issue to worry about. For whatever reason, tomorrow felt like the most important date I’d ever gone on. I didn’t want to screw it up. Over the past two days, my initial relationship with Courtney had changed from pursuit to genuine interest. Through the course of our text-messaging, I’d gotten a small glimpse into the person behind the force field she seemed to have up when she was around me. I was definitely intrigued. Tomorrow I would get to see even more.

The drive from my apartment to Courtney’s house on Hamilton Street took less than ten minutes Monday afternoon. I felt something in my stomach that I could only have guessed was nerves. It was a feeling I wasn’t used to. Even before big games, one of my strengths was that I stayed as cool as the other side of the pillow. The roads were icy from another cold front that had moved in overnight. Winter in Michigan translated to freeze-your-balls-off cold. I blasted the heat, coaxing it to warm up the car to a suitable temperature before I pulled up to Courtney’s house.

There were several cars in the driveway. I parked behind a car that looked like it was being held together by chewing gum and maybe some spit. The thing was so rusted out it looked like it belonged in a garbage heap. It had a college parking sticker in the window, so it must have worked.

I made my way up to the front door and stomped my feet on the welcome mat as I rang the doorbell. The sound of voices hummed through the door just before it was thrown open. Courtney hopped on one foot, working to zip her boot that stopped just below her knee. “You’re early.”

“Nope. It’s one minute past three, to be exact,” I said, trying to act cool over the sight of Courtney dressed in tight jeans. The denim hugged all her assets, highlighting them in a way that should have been illegal. The tight pink sweater that strained across her large full breasts was almost my undoing. A clear mental picture of what lay underneath filled my head and was enough to make my mouth go dry. I took the opportunity while her head was down to shift my boys while I still had some control. All I could think was that it was a good thing my coat ran past my waist.

“Indy, I’m leaving. Do you want me to lock the front door?” Courtney called down the hall.

“No, Kier is on his way over.”

“Okay, see you later.” Courtney closed the door, shrugging into a short jacket that stopped at her waist just above her amazing ass. Tonight was going to be like a medieval torture exercise on my body.

“So, that was one of my roommates,” Courtney commented as I took her elbow to guide her down the icy sidewalk. It was a move Mom had instilled in me when I was ten. Always open the door for a lady, and let her go first. I was unprepared for how I felt touching her. There were at least two layers of clothing separating skin-on-skin contact, but I could still sense the warmth of her arm.

Courtney looked down at my hand. “Are you afraid I don’t know how to walk?” she asked, although she didn’t pull away.

“My mom always taught me it was polite to escort a lady over treacherous terrain.”

“And you think this is treacherous terrain?” She patted the rust bucket of a car when we passed it.

“Sure. It’s icy and the sidewalk slants slightly. Besides, it gives me a chance to hold on to you so you can’t bolt,” I stated, opening the car door for her. “So, is that your car?” I asked skeptically, climbing behind the wheel of my car.

“Yeah, that’s Lucy.” She turned to glare at me, clearly challenging me to say something derogatory.

“Lucy?” I asked playfully, sidestepping the fact that it was a complete piece of junk.

“Yeah, Lucy. Are guys the only ones allowed to name their vehicles?”

“Well, no. It’s just, Lucy doesn’t quite seem appropriate for that car.”

“Maybe not to you. There’s nothing wrong with Lucy. Sure, she’s not as pretty or fancy as some cars, but she’s reliable, and I don’t have to worry about any dings or scratches.”

“Damn, extract the claws from my ass. I wasn’t criticizing.”

“Right. Everyone picks on poor Lucy. So, where are you taking me?”

“Twelve Acres Vineyards.”

“Nice. That’s not too far away.”

“Have you been? Wait—do you even like wine? I guess that information would have been vital for me to check on before I made our reservation.”

She started laughing at my question.

I couldn’t help smiling with her. She had a great laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You asking me if I like wine. My roommates would bust a gut. They call me a wine snob since that’s usually the only alcoholic beverage I drink. Well, besides an occasional shot.”

“Really? What about beer?”

“Yuck, I hate beer. The taste and smell make me want to gag.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you know you work in a sports bar, right? Beer is kind of a staple item at a place like Gruby’s.”

“I’ve learned to block it out. It’s not like I’m sticking my nose in everyone’s glasses.”

I chuckled at her explanation. It was sound reasoning.

“What about you? You don’t exactly look like a sommelier.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. I am quite gifted at wine tasting and pairing.” I grinned when she looked surprised. Sommelier wasn’t a word that was thrown around much on a college campus. “You’re surprised I know what a sommelier is?” I teased, resting my hand on hers. I expected her to pull away, but she shocked me by turning her hand over and lacing her fingers through mine. It was just holding hands, but it was a step in the right direction.

“Okay, I’ll admit I’m a little surprised. Even I hadn’t ever heard of pairing when it comes to wine. So, where did you get your knowledge?”

“My parents took me on a tour of wine country in California when I was fourteen. It was supposed to coincide with an important basketball camp, but I broke my hand and couldn’t go. I remember my dad was pissed because most of the best players my age were going to be there. He wanted to cancel, but the trip was already booked, so they dragged me along while I pouted the entire time. I complained bitterly, wondering why we couldn’t go to a theme park instead since we were going to be in California. After a few days, I discovered wine country wasn’t all that bad.”

“What was her name?” Courtney asked.

“Excuse me?”

“What was the girl’s name who still makes you grin like a goof? No boy would have fond memories of wine country over theme parks if a girl wasn’t involved. Spill it.”

“Touché. Her name was Honey.”

Courtney snorted loudly. “Sorry, did you say Honey? Why am I not surprised?”

“You like busting my balls, don’t you?”

She smirked. “You’re an easy target. I’m sorry for interrupting. Please tell me about Honey.”

“Anyway, I met Honey at a bed-and-breakfast we were staying at for a couple days. Her parents owned it. You’ll love this part. She lived up to her name. Her skin was the color of honey, and she wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. Being a young lad of fourteen, I definitely appreciated the short shorts she traipsed around the vineyard wearing. They left little to the imagination and within hours of meeting her, I came up with any excuse I could to trail around after her.

“She was sixteen, and I guess you could say way more experienced than any other girls I knew. Because I was tall for my age, she assumed I was older. Being the bright boy I was, I didn’t bother to correct her. On our second day at her parents’ vineyard, Honey pulled me into one of the dim barns, away from prying eyes. We were just about to round second base when my dad busted us.

“He had no qualms about throwing me under the humiliation bus by totally blurting out my age, and that I was way too young to be fooling around in some barn. Honey was horrified that she almost got felt up by a fourteen-year-old, and stalked off after informing me I was nothing but a boy. Dad thought the situation was funnier than I did. I remember wishing a pile of wine barrels would fall on me and put me out of my misery.”

Courtney had started laughing halfway through my story, and was now wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Oh my God, that’s hilarious. The great Dalton Thompson strikes out thanks to his daddy. Now, tell me. What is your idea of second base?”

“You don’t know what second base is?” I shook my head in mock disbelief.

“I know what I think second base is. I want to hear what your idea is.”

“Second base is tongue action and northern touches.”

“Northern touches?”

“Yeah, you know, copping a boob feel.” I felt my cheeks flushing slightly. Who would ever have thought I’d be embarrassed over talking about feeling a girl up? In my defense, it wasn’t normally a subject that came up with girls.

“You poor thing. So Daddy busted you before you could actually cup anything?” She smirked, obviously finding humor at my expense.

“The sad thing is I was right on the verge. The tips of my fingers had just grazed the lace of her bra when he walked in. It’s not funny,” I added as she started laughing again. “Okay, now it’s your turn to tell me something embarrassing that happened to you.”

“I was perfect and escaped any embarrassing moments unscathed.”

I could tell she was full of it by the way her mouth twitched. “I don’t believe you. Spill it. I told you mine. Now you tell me yours. Sharing is caring.”

“Oh boy. It’s getting deep in here. Did you just say sharing is caring?”

“I did. I can own it. Now stop stalling.”

chapter nine

Courtney

Dalton found my embarrassing tale of how I’d once flashed a lifeguard at a water park one summer very amusing. At least my story killed the rest of the time it took to get to our destination. I recounted how, unbeknownst to me, my chest had been on display for the world to see. I’d just gone down one of those twisty water slides when I splashed hard into the pool of water at the end. Standing at the bottom of the slide, I’d been too busy trying to get the water out of my face while making sure my hair wasn’t a total wreck to worry about the cool breeze on my chest.

It was only when my friend shrieked my name that I discovered the horrifying truth. The lifeguard was standing not two feet away from me. His eyes were locked on my chest, which was insanely large for my petite fifteen-year-old body. I hit the deck like a sniper had taken me out. Ducking beneath one foot of water, I tried to stuff my goods back into my skimpy top that had seemed so perfect when I picked it out at the mall.

“So, you’re telling me you didn’t realize both of your . . .” He paused, searching for the politically correct term. “They were hanging completely out?” he asked, pointing to my breasts.

“Boobs. And no. Not until my friend called my name. I’m not kidding when I tell you at least an entire minute passed while Lifeguard Boy got quite the eyeful.”

“Lucky guy. I bet you made his whole summer.” Dalton’s eyes drifted to my chest before returning back to the road.

“It was single-handedly the most mortifying moment of my life.” I couldn’t help joining in his laughter as he pulled into the parking lot of 12 Acres Vineyards. “I never went back, by the way.”

“Trust me when I say you were probably a pool legend after that. I bet he told every guy he knew. I wish I was there.”

“You were too busy being a basketball star by then. Hanging out with me was no longer cool.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them and I felt like a total bitch. It didn’t help to keep dragging up our past. He’d already apologized. I needed to let it go. I opened my car door, welcoming the cold blast of frigid air that smacked me in the face, swearing under my breath when I stepped out.

Dalton rounded the car and placed an arm across my shoulders, tucking me against his side. “I really am sorry.” He pulled me closer as we stood in the parking lot.

I tilted my face up to look at him. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I’m a jerk for bringing it up again. We were twelve. I’m embarrassed I allowed it to color my opinion of you for so long.” I ducked my head back down when a new blast of cold air hit me in the face.

Dalton covered my face with his arm, leading me toward the building, away from the wind. The size difference between us was somewhat awkward for a moment, but somehow we made it work. Surprisingly we fit like two pieces of a puzzle. I burrowed closer against him as we walked, enjoying the closeness. The smell of his cologne and the soap he used encircled my senses.

Somewhere along the way, without realizing it, I’d stopped fighting my attraction to him. It would probably be a mistake. Unintentionally or not, the chances that we would last long term were probably slim. He was destined for stardom, going places outside my comprehension. I would remain here, trying to scrape by until I could finish school and get a job that would support Mom and I.

Understanding our different destinies didn’t make me pull away, though. Maybe it was the familiarity of being childhood friends or the way we both opened up during the car ride today, but being with him felt comfortable—natural. Whatever the reason, I’d decided he was worth the risk. The fact that I was physically attracted to him was icing on the cake. It was a small reminder of the feelings that had just begun to spring up when we were twelve. Of course, the attraction now was a far cry from the preteen attraction I had felt for him then. My desires now were very much in the adult capacity.

The warmth inside the building was soothing after walking from the car outside. I felt mildly disappointed when Dalton dropped his arm from my shoulders, until he reached for my hand. As we strolled along, I became hyperaware of how something as innocent as handholding could become somewhat erotic while sipping wine together. Dalton slid his thumb across the top of my hand in slow methodical strokes before gently caressing my pulse point. The hairs on the back of my neck felt as if they were standing on end. Each sweep of his thumb was a sensual dance with my sensitive skin, making it tingle.

It was becoming apparent to me that it might have been a bad call on my part to skip lunch. Between the scent of Dalton’s cologne and the alcohol I was consuming, I was already feeling slightly intoxicated. I nibbled on a few cubes of cheese to attempt to alleviate the buzzing in my head. Dalton’s breath teased my neck, making me shiver in a good way. I should have put some distance between us so I could regain my bearings, but instead I snuggled closer to him, wishing we were somewhere else with a lot fewer people around.

All the air escaped my lungs as Dalton slowly captured a bead of wine from my bottom lip with his finger. I watched with bated breath as he moved the finger to his own mouth, sucking the drop of wine. It was all I could do not to moan as my insides turned to putty.

“You need to stop looking at me like that,” Dalton murmured in my ear.

“Like what?” I licked the rest of the wine off my lip with the tip of my tongue.

This time it was Dalton who groaned softly. Placing his hands on my hips, he slowly backed me into a dim corner, away from prying eyes. “Like you’re thinking how great it would feel if I hoisted you up on that wine barrel table over there with your legs wrapped around my waist.”

“Are you sure that’s not you thinking that?” My hips responded almost instinctively as he pulled me snugly against his body. I could feel him, rock hard, pressed to my stomach. The wanting desire I had been keeping at bay from the moment he showed up at my house looking practically delectable with low-riding jeans and a black V-neck sweater that accentuated his well-toned chest was threatening to explode.

“Bet your ass it’s what I’m thinking.” His hands cupped my butt, pulling me close, just as his lips crushed down on mine.

I wasn’t entirely sure what came over me after that. I would like to blame the wine and Dalton’s tormenting caresses. One moment my feet were planted on the floor, and the next I was scaling his body like some damned horny monkey climbing a tree. Maybe it was his soft lips, or his large hands that were more than willing to get me where I wanted to be.

There was nothing tentative about our first kiss. It was hot and consuming like a forest fire. His tongue took control of my mouth like he owned it. My own tongue responded boldly as the heady taste of the wine he’d consumed teased my taste buds. Dalton’s hands held me in place as I moved against him. I was close to the point of no return when the sound of a clearing throat behind us finally broke through my wine-induced sexual intoxication. Heat crept up my neck as Dalton slowly lowered me back to the floor and turned toward the manager, who looked less than pleased.

I had tunnel vision as the manager escorted us on a walk of shame out the front door. The cold air sobered me up quickly. Neither Dalton nor I said anything as we walked to his car, but I was quite sure my face was as red as a tomato. Dalton was still a gentleman, holding the car door open and then closing it once I was seated. I looked out the window so I wouldn’t have to see his face as he climbed in and adjusted his seat belt. My actions were completely mortifying. To say I had behaved like a dog in heat would have been putting it mildly. Sex-starved prisoner would have been more accurate. I had totally made Dalton my prison bitch.

An unexpected bubble of laughter rose up my throat even though I was still embarrassed. I tried to clamp it down, but it escaped nevertheless. Dalton joined me in laughing. At least we could both appreciate the humor of the situation. It took several minutes to get it out of our systems. Tears streaked down my cheeks, and my stomach ached from laughing so hard.

“So, I guess we can never go back there,” I finally choked out.

“I would think not, but hey, they got a good show.”

“You’re not embarrassed or mortified like I am?”

“Embarrassed? Are you kidding? Erotic—yes. Mortifying—no.”

His words heated me from the inside out. Erotic. The word was heavy with meaning. “Come on. You weren’t even the slightest bit embarrassed when the manager escorted us out?”

“Hell to the no. I just wish we would have been in a less conspicuous place, because I’m interested in how far it would have gone if we hadn’t been interrupted.” He winked at me, making me blush again. There it was, hanging out there like a golden carrot. Did he know how close I had been to the big O? Only the fact that he had called the experience erotic saved him from getting a sock in the arm.

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally act like that on a first date.”

“Technically this is our second date. I was expecting to get to second base tonight.”

“Oh Lord. I’d say we came pretty damned close in there.”

“A few seconds more and it would have been a home run,” he teased. Little did he know how close to the truth his words were.

“Didn’t you say your mom taught you to be a gentleman? A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“That was a whole lot more than kissing, sweet stuff,” he murmured, resting his hand on mine. “If it helps, I was just as into it as you.”

“That does help a little.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Definitely. Maybe if I’d eaten before I drank a gallon of wine, I wouldn’t have tried to devour you.”

“So you’re telling me if I want to round more bases I shouldn’t feed you?” he teased, merging into the far right lane toward the highway exit. No more than a couple miles up the road, he pulled into the parking lot of a popular Italian restaurant.

“Are you allowed to talk about baseball so much when you’re a basketball player?”

“Good question. I can count on you to keep my secret, right?” He closed his door and walked around the front of the car to hold my door open. I had to admit, I was already getting used to that routine. He pulled me up from the seat so I was facing him with his long arms bracketing me on either side.

“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s an awfully big secret to keep. What do I get?” My eyes moved to his lips. Here we were in yet another public place and all I could think about was jumping on him again. He must have had the same thoughts since he lowered his mouth to mine. This time the kiss was probably what our first attempt should have been. It was tender and sweet and slow. So slow I thought I would melt into a puddle at his feet.

After a moment, he pulled away. “Are you sure you’re hungry?”

“Yes. No.” My words were a jumbled mess. “Wait, doesn’t food fuel the brain? I think I might need that. I’m still feeling a little bit tipsy from the wine.”

“Are you sure it’s the wine you’re feeling?”

“Nope. Not at all,” I answered as he put his arm around me and led me toward the restaurant.

The innuendos and sexual tension that still radiated between us made dinner a very pleasant experience. Our conversation flowed easily as we exchanged first date bios. We caught up on things we had missed out on while we weren’t friends. A lot of what he said I already knew since I had basically watched him from afar over the years. I almost regretted admitting that juicy tidbit considering how thrilled he looked.

Eventually the conversation moved to our classes. We each had professors who were particularly difficult.

I was happy to hear that Dalton didn’t have classes like Intro to Basket Weaving. I’d heard that the school went easy on student athletes where academics were concerned. But Dalton definitely took his classes seriously and was smart. He was majoring in business, because he thought it would help him later in life after basketball ended or if, God forbid, it didn’t work out for him. He was definitely realistic about the future. Not that it dimmed his aspirations.

I was no different except for our goals. He had NBA dreams, while I wanted to secure a position in a museum where I could pore over art all day. One of Dalton’s admirable qualities was that he wasn’t afraid of hard work, especially if it got him to where he wanted to be.

Our conversation turned playful when we started talking about animals. We both preferred dogs to cats. I confessed that my feelings weren’t based on actual experience, since I’d never owned my own pet. Dalton had a tough time wrapping his brain around that one.

“So you never got a pet? Not even a gerbil or a goldfish?”

“Nope. Not even a stray cat. You remember the apartment complex Mom and I lived in. They always had a ‘no pets’ policy.”

“That’s right. I do remember that. That sucks. My parents gave me Riley for Christmas the year I turned fifteen. It was instant love. Right after our dog, Gretchen, died. Do you remember her?”

I nodded. I did remember Gretchen. She was the closest I ever came to having a pet of my own.

“She was a great dog, but Riley’s special.”

“Like runs-into-the-walls-and-tries-to-eat-his-own-tail special?” I teased.

“He has been known to chase his own tail, but that doesn’t mean he’s not wicked smart. Take his fixation with my mom’s shoes and no one else’s for example. We all feel he blames her for sending me away to college.” He pulled his phone out to show me a picture of a beautiful golden retriever gnawing on a woman’s pump.

“Maybe he just likes the taste of the leather of her shoes better. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

He tapped his chin for a moment, thinking. “Got it. Riley can play basketball.”

“Hmm, resorting to fibbing now?” I asked after he paid the check and helped me into my jacket.

“No, seriously. He’s a good shot.”

We left the warmth of the restaurant behind, moving quickly to his car.

I shook my head, climbing into the vehicle. “You’re such a goofball.”

“I’ll have to prove it to you one of these days.”

He smiled as he closed his door and started the car. The quiet intimate atmosphere was a bit awkward at first after the restaurant. I couldn’t help thinking about our kiss at the winery. A new wave of heat washed over me as the mental picture filled my head.

By the time we pulled into my driveway and were standing outside my front door, I was torn over whether to invite him in or not. I wanted to spend more time with him, but I knew I should kiss him and send him on his way. I wasn’t the type who gave it up that quickly. If I had sex with him tonight, chances were he would move on to his next conquest, and I would feel like a total tramp.

He pulled me close for a good-night kiss. His lips were warm and soft as they settled on mine. I couldn’t help moaning slightly as his tongue swept into my mouth. A cold blast of wind blew against us, but I barely noticed, not wanting the kiss to end.

Dalton took matters into his own hands and pulled away. “You better get inside before you catch pneumonia. Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I work until nine.”

“That’s okay. We can grab a late dinner,” he said as another gust of wind whipped against us.

“Okay,” I answered through chattering teeth as he leaned in to give me one last kiss. This time he pushed me against the door so his body was blocking the wind. The cold became an afterthought as I felt every hard inch of him pushed against me. I struggled against my shaky resolve not to ask him in.

He pulled away. “Go inside. I’ll pick you up at Gruby’s tomorrow night.”

My hand shook as I fumbled to get my key into the lock. He placed his hand on mine, steadying it as the key slid effortlessly into the lock.

“What do you know? It slid right in,” he whispered into my ear. My knees nearly collapsed out from under me. He turned the doorknob and propelled me inside. I leaned against the door once I closed it, trying to catch my breath.

“Holy hell, that was hot.”

chapter ten

Dalton

Courtney was waiting for me when I pulled up in front of Gruby’s the next night. She opened the door of the restaurant and hurried to my car since the weather still sucked.

“Hey,” I said, placing a long, lingering, heated kiss on her lips. It had been less than twenty-four hours since we were together, but she was all I could think about. The text messages we exchanged throughout the day didn’t help matters. Now that we’d gotten past our initial hiccup, our texting had taken on a sizzling quality. I had quite the vivid imagination and Courtney had it working overtime.

Unfortunately my lack of concentration had carried over into basketball practice, earning me a chewing-out from Coach. That combined with a call from Dad had taken most of the wind from my sails. Having Court in my arms now made it all worth it. The feeling was foreign to me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked forward to any part of my day that didn’t involve basketball.

“Hey yourself,” she greeted me, breathing in a rush when I finally pulled back.

“I was thinking we could eat at this new steak restaurant I discovered a couple weeks ago.”

“That sounds good. I’m starving.”

“You don’t munch on food at work?”

“Sometimes, but usually I don’t have time. How was your day?”

“Okay,” I lied. I couldn’t muster up enough enthusiasm to sound convincing.

“Why does your ‘okay’ sound anything but okay?”

I smiled ruefully at her insightfulness but didn’t answer. Lacing my fingers through hers, I changed the subject by asking about her day. I could tell she knew what I was doing but went along with it anyway. I would deal with my problems later.

Courtney seemed quite taken by the dim lighting and intimate feel of the restaurant. My hand found the small of her back as the waitress led us to a table in a secluded corner, adding to the ambience.

We sat across from each other while the hostess placed menus in front of us. Reaching under the table to adjust my jeans, I found Courtney’s knee, making her gasp when I gave it a squeeze.

“Uh, enjoy,” the hostess remarked, giving Courtney a sideways glance before walking away.

“Nice, creep,” Courtney choked out as my hand slowly moved up past her knee.

“Very nice,” I said. She reached under the table, squeezing my hand in a death grip.

“Be good,” she murmured. “You don’t have to move it all the way off,” she added when I pulled my hand away. Courtney was cool as a cucumber, looking up to smile at the approaching waitress.

The tone of her voice indicated she had enjoyed my hand on her leg as much as I did. Maybe she wanted to continue what we had started at the winery the day before. My body responded immediately, urging me to move closer if not for the damned table. When I decided I wanted more than a friendship with her, I had no idea it would be me struggling to keep a clear head.

The entire meal felt like one long foreplay session. Courtney allowed my hand to remain on her thigh while she tortured me with the look in her eyes. Without saying a word she had me more turned on than I’d ever been in my life.

“Is everything okay?” the waitress asked, bringing Courtney another Diet Coke.

“What’s that?” I asked. Her question caught me off guard. For a second, it seemed like she had read my mind.

“Is the steak cooked correctly?” She pointed to my plate. I hadn’t even noticed that I had barely touched my food.

“Oh no. I mean, it’s fine. I just wasn’t as hungry as I thought. Can we get the check, though?”

Courtney laughed at my expense, watching the waitress, who looked at us like we were drunk.

Neither of us spoke as I drove away from the restaurant, but there was a clear sense of anticipation in the air.

I didn’t help matters during the drive back to her house. My hand never stopped touching her. It seemed to have a mind of its own as my fingers stroked up and down her thigh. I had to bite back a groan when she instinctively parted her legs, giving me better access to her inner thigh. I almost ran off the road. By the time I pulled into her driveway behind Lucy, I was so turned on I was almost in pain.

Courtney must have felt the same since we both practically jumped from the car at the same time. The porch light loomed in front of us.

“You want to come in?” she asked with her hand on the door like she already knew the answer.

“You sure?” It pained me to do so, but I gave her an out.

She nodded with a finger to her lips. Taking her lead, I followed her to her bedroom, softly closing her door behind me. Her room was dark except for the moonlight streaming through the partially open curtains. It took my eyes a moment to adjust before I spotted Courtney standing next to her bed. She looked self-conscious, making me feel a little like an ass. I knew what a leap of faith it was for her to invite me in. Because of our past, she still seemed to be holding on to the notion that the two of us together would be a bad idea. She didn’t know how wrong she was about me, but I was on a mission to show her.

Originally I’d planned to play it cool and take things slow, but I had never expected what happened at the vineyard, or to be standing here now for that matter. Every signal she was sending me said that she wanted this to happen.

She stood nervously wrapping a lock of hair around her finger, waiting for me to make the first move. I closed the short distance between us without taking my eyes from hers. Without saying a word, I cupped her face and tilted it up toward me, moving slowly to ease her fears. Her lips parted with anticipation as I brought my mouth inches away from hers. She whimpered slightly. I smiled with satisfaction when she stood on her toes to close the distance between us. The moment my mouth met hers she knotted her hands in my hair. Her intent was clear. She wanted this as bad as me. Moving my hands to her waist, I lifted her off the floor as she wrapped her legs around me. I became instantly hard, rubbing against her thighs. She moaned as my hands found her ass once again before I lowered her back to the floor.

Without breaking eye contact, I reached for the hem of her sweater, lifting slowly as she raised her arms. The sweater slid effortlessly over her head and dropped to the floor. She reached forward and I watched as she seductively unclasped my jeans and then invited me to return the favor. Grasping her jeans and barely there panties together, I shimmied them down her hips until they rested at her feet. She kicked them off while she lifted my shirt as far as she could reach, and then planted a string of kisses along my abdomen, causing me to moan as I yanked the shirt over my head.

Reaching a hand behind her back, she unclasped her bra, exposing her full spectacular breasts. I honestly didn’t remember taking my pants off after that, but somehow they ended up in a pile on the floor. A smile rose from her lips like she knew what I was thinking. Grabbing my hand, she guided me to her bed. That was the last time she led that night.

The moment we hit the mattress, I took control, exploring every inch of her body with my hands and mouth, smiling with satisfaction when she arched her back after I tugged hard on her nipple with my mouth. My free hand moved between her thighs, where she was wet and ready. Her knees fell apart as my finger stroked her light hair before slipping inside the dampness. Her moan smothered into my shoulder as my tongue continued to swirl around her nipple, moving at the same pace as my finger buried deep inside her. Her hips moved against my hand. I knew I had her on the verge of climax, so I gently tugged on her nipple with my mouth to help her get there. She responded by moving her hips faster and burying her hands in my hair, pulling me tightly against her breast. Before she could finish, I left her tantalizing nipple and moved to her mouth. My tongue found hers and she whimpered with need before shuddering in my arms.

She was still shaking when I rolled on a condom before entering her in one swift movement. I slid in easily, rocking against her as she worked to remain quiet so her roommates wouldn’t hear us. I wanted badly to prolong the moment, but all the foreplay wouldn’t allow me to stretch it out. I was ready to explode. After a few thrusts against her, I finished harder than I ever had. I collapsed, taking care not to crush her.

Her eyes slid closed as she collected her breath. “Well, that was something.”

“You can say that again,” I panted, resting my forehead against hers. “I feel like I just ran an hour of stair drills.”

“I’ll take another something, please.” Her words made me laugh and did interesting things to our bodies that were still locked together.

I woke up early the next morning since I had practice. The way Courtney looked wrapped in the sheets, I was tempted to skip it and give us both a pleasant morning instead. Reluctantly I forced myself to leave. If I missed a practice, shit would really hit the fan.

The last thing I needed was to give Dad another reason to ream my ass. I was still feeling the sting from being chewed out over the heart on my face.

“This is your year, Dalton. Everything we worked for is within our grasp. No NBA team is going to take you seriously if you don’t stop dicking around.”

“Don’t you mean everything I worked for?” I rarely spoke up when Dad was giving me shit, but after ten years of hearing it, I was pissed off.

“You don’t think everything I’ve done for you has been work? All the practices, A.A.U. tournaments, staying on top of the coaches, making sure the recruiters knew about you. You think you’d be where you are if it wasn’t for me? I’ll be damned if you’re going to waste the talent we spent all these years building.”

This was the extent of our conversations anymore. He was the reason Courtney and I had stopped being friends when we were twelve. He’d called me a fairy boy, because my best friend was a girl. He pulled me away from her and made sure all my spare time was spent on basketball. I thought once I got into Michigan he’d get off my ass once and for all. I should have known better. Now it was all about the NBA.

That was still my dream regardless of Dad’s bullshit, but at times I hated it all. I could walk away, but what would that solve? That was why I enjoyed the junior summer clinics I had taught for the past few years. It drove him absolutely nuts that I would “waste my time,” as he would say, but it was how I stayed connected with what I truly enjoyed about playing basketball. For the kids I coached, it was still a game. Not the business it had become for me.

With one last longing look at Courtney, who had fallen back to sleep, I crept from the house. The only thing keeping me going was that I’d be seeing her again later that night.

As luck would have it, I didn’t get to see her again that night or the rest of the week. Our crazy schedules made meeting up damned near impossible. Between classes, her job, and basketball practice, I was becoming increasingly annoyed. I was tempted to duck out of practice, but Coach would send out a search party and then have my head. Especially since we had the conference tournament ahead of us. My concentration was a mess. All I wanted to do was be with Courtney. Instead I was at practice going through endless drills I could do in my sleep, and yet I also felt like I was letting the team down. They expected my leadership, and my focus was elsewhere.

Courtney didn’t complain about our lack of time together nearly as much as I did. She reassured me that once the season ended, we’d have plenty of time to connect. In the meantime, we made do with endless text messages. I planned on hanging out at Gruby’s on Thursday night while she worked, but with more practices and team meetings, I just couldn’t find the time.

Friday, I was on a charter bus for the two-hour drive to Indianapolis for the conference tournament. The only solace I found was in Courtney’s text messages.

You’ve only been gone for an hour and I miss you already.

Not half as much as I miss you.

I wouldn’t bet on it.

How was work?

Slow tip day.

That sucks.

That’s all right. We’ll be busy for your game.

U work too hard.

Such is the life of a poor college student.

If I was already playing in the NBA, U wouldn’t have to work another day. The text was intended as a joke, but as soon as I hit SEND, I regretted it. We’d only been together for a week. Knowing how skittish Courtney was, I figured a text like that could send her running for cover. I was in the process of typing that I was joking when she sent a reply.

I’m sure you’ll have a whole harem of women to take care of by then. I better not quit my day job.

Obviously she was kidding, but with all the pressure I’d been feeling, it annoyed me. For whatever reason, she still doubted that I could be exclusive. Our relationship was still new, but I wondered how long I would have to work to earn her trust. To make her realize that what I felt for her was special. Somehow I would have to show her. Mom always said actions spoke a thousand words or some bullshit like that. That definitely applied to me and Courtney. I changed the topic and we continued to text for another half hour until it was time for her to get ready for work.

I didn’t get a chance to text her the next day since practice bled into some media obligations and then pregame preparations. The team hit the court and as I made my way through warm-up drills, I wondered if Courtney would be watching the game at Gruby’s.

“Dalton,” a loud voice boomed behind me. I turned to see Dad standing near the bench. He clapped his hands, urging me to focus.

“Come on, Dalton, this is your night,” Coach Riley yelled from under the basket.

“I’m cool, Coach.” I launched toward the rim, spinning into a reverse dunk for good measure, which elicited a few cheers from the crowd.

Maybe it was fate, or then again, it could have just been me dragging ass, but the first quarter of the game wasn’t my best effort. The second quarter wasn’t much better. I was laying up enough bricks to build a house. At halftime, I got my ass handed to me by Coach, who reminded me I wasn’t an NBA star yet and I’d better get to work. Collin shot me a knowing look but kept his mouth shut.

The second half went much better as I stepped up my game. That was why I was so successful. I refused to lose. The team jumped on my shoulders as I drained four buckets in a row, pushing us past the opposing team we’d been trailing the entire night.

In the end, the game came down to my final shot. For an instant, I was afraid it wouldn’t fall. The ball circled the outer edge of the rim, teasing me and the onlooking fans who waited on the edges of their seats. With one final rotation, the ball rolled inward through the net. The rest of the team erupted off the bench as the cheerleaders jumped up and down in celebration.

The players clapped me on the back, waving towels in the air. Looking up in the stands, I could see Dad’s frown from where I stood.

chapter eleven

Courtney

My stomach was in my throat the entire time I watched the game. Dalton was having an off night. My chest pinched uncomfortably each time he missed a shot. Watching the game surrounded by groaning fans made the experience even harder. I knew how important basketball was to Dalton and I found myself silently cheering him on. The second half of the game he seemed to come alive and they were able to pull ahead of the other team. The noise level in Gruby’s went up to a whole new level as the restaurant erupted with cheers with each basket. In the end, the last shot was up to Dalton. We all waited with bated breath as the ball slowly circled the rim before sliding through the net. Everyone in the restaurant roared with approval.

Amanda gave me a crushing hug as she jumped up and down with excitement. My own happiness waned when I saw the dejected look on Dalton’s face on the big screen. He was being interviewed on the crowded court by the sideline reporter, but he didn’t look as happy as you would think he’d be. His shoulders slumped and his face was completely defeated as the camera showed him jogging off toward the locker room. It was obvious something was wrong.

I had to fight the urge to grab my phone from my pocket. Even if I called to check on him, he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. His phone would likely be turned off. Besides, I wasn’t sure he would want to hear from me. Maybe our relationship hadn’t reached that point. Things were moving fast for us, but we’d only had three dates and one night of unforgettable sex. Technically we’d only been together a few weeks. I figured I’d just call him later after my shift was over.

The rest of my shift felt like I was walking underwater as the night dragged. The clock seemed to taunt me with each hour passing in slow motion. My nerves were stretched to the limit as the look on Dalton’s face kept flashing in my head. It was killing me not knowing what was wrong. I was sure it was just game stuff, but they’d still won. My hand closed around my cell phone for about the hundredth time since the game ended, but I forced myself to drop it back in my pocket. I would wait.

Closing duties were like an exercise in hell. I couldn’t seem to do anything right. Like spilling water all over the entryway carpet when the wheel on the mop bucket got stuck, or dumping an entire tray of premade burgers on the floor as I was trying to slide them into the industrial-sized refrigerator. By the time Amanda and I left, I was in a foul mood and anxious to drop her off so I could finally call Dalton.

I was dialing his number before Amanda had even closed the car door. I bit back a groan of dismay when it went straight to voice mail. “Shit,” I muttered to my empty car.

I stepped on the gas a little too hard, spinning out as I pulled away from Amanda’s dorm. I called Dalton again once I got home. It went right to voice mail. Fifteen minutes later, voice mail again. I lay on my bed and typed a frustrated text message, telling him to call me when he got a chance.

The next morning, I woke to find my message hadn’t been returned. No missed calls or voice mails, either. More than a little disappointed, I tossed my phone aside and climbed from bed. A burst of energy had me stripping my bed before heading to the laundry room with an armful of linens. Once the sheets were in the wash, I headed back to my room and gave it a whirlwind cleaning. I needed something to keep my mind occupied.

After changing out of my pajamas, I tried to call Dalton again with the same result as the night before. I sent him another text message before leaving my clean room behind. The nagging thoughts creeping into my head were beginning to frustrate me. I did my best to ignore them, heading to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before going over to Mom’s for the day. Honestly it probably wasn’t fair to think Dalton could be giving me the brush-off once again. I was freaking out over one night of unanswered calls and text messages. There had to be a reasonable explanation.

The kitchen was noisy and crowded when I entered, tempting me to hit a drive-through instead. It was great that Indy and Misha were both in love, but seeing them wrapped around their guys first thing in the morning after the sleepless night I’d had wasn’t all that appealing. Kier gave me a nod, looking uncomfortable amidst the chaos. In the small amount of time I’d spent with him, I had discovered he was quiet and not overly comfortable in loud settings. I smiled at him sympathetically before grabbing a package of Pop-Tarts and heading back to my room.

“Hey, where are you going?” Misha called after me. “Darryn decided to cook us all breakfast. Isn’t he a sweetie?” she asked, patting Darryn’s butt.

I snorted at her term of endearment. Darryn was known for being a badass and had even been thrown out of his last place for fighting, but he was downright docile in Misha’s hands. At the moment, it was just too mushy for my stomach to handle.

“Wait, I thought I was just making breakfast for you,” he joked, pulling Misha in close.

Chloe and I exchanged looks. They had it bad.

“Shoot. I’d like to stay, but my mom is expecting me.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Mom was expecting me, just not this early. Edging out of the kitchen, I made my escape, breathing a sigh of relief as I closed the front door behind me. I really was happy for my roommates, but at the moment I had too much drama going on in my head.

Mom was still in her pj’s reading the paper when I arrived at her apartment forty minutes later. She was the only person I knew who still had the Sunday paper delivered to her house. I found her sitting on her living room couch with her legs folded up under her while she sipped her coffee.

“Hey, you’re early,” she said as I bent down to give her a hug.

“Things were a little crowded at Hamilton House this morning.” I pulled off my jacket and tossed it on the recliner. Mom raised her eyebrows. I knew what that meant. Sighing, I picked up the jacket and walked to the closet to hang it up. Even now that I was an adult, one of Mom’s looks still got me to jump into action.

Once my coat was stowed away to her satisfaction, I joined Mom on the couch and grabbed the sales ads. Not that I was a big shopper, but I liked to skim through each one. One of these days I wouldn’t be a poor college student anymore, and hopefully would have the money to actually buy something frivolous. That was if I could find work after graduation. I had this terrible fear that I would finish school only to discover there were no jobs available. I was forever second-guessing my major. Art history was a narrow field, to say the least.

Mom left me to my reading for a few minutes before playing the mom card. “So, who do I need to hurt?” She set her empty coffee mug on the table.

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence. I buried my face in the newspaper. Mom always had the uncanny knack of being able to read me. She said I was like an open book and she could see my every feeling as if they were words on a page.

I sat stoically silent, willing myself to remain strong. As long as I used the paper as a shield, she wouldn’t be able to see my face. The silence stretched on, and finally I couldn’t resist peeking over the newspaper to see if she’d given up. It was a classic mistake that had bitten me in the butt numerous times growing up. I should have known. Mom never gave up. Lowering the paper, I found her eyes on mine.

I made a production of dramatically sighing and folding the paper before answering. “It’s no big deal.”

“If it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t be keeping it from me.” That was her mom wisdom in action. There was no arguing with her reasoning.

“I’m a little confused,” I finally muttered, getting up to grab a Coke from the refrigerator.

She waited until I returned with my soda before asking. “About what?”

Her question was simple enough, but it opened the floodgates. Before I knew it, I was pouring out every detail to her: Dalton’s sudden interest, the text messages, the heart on his cheek that had earned him a date in the first place, and finally the look on his face after last night’s game and how he wasn’t returning my calls or messages. I didn’t mention that I had slept with him, and luckily she didn’t ask. I expected her typical parental advice about how we all learn from our mistakes, but she surprised me.

“There may be a simple explanation for what’s going on. I would wait until he calls before making any snap decisions.”

I looked at her incredulously. It wasn’t like she was a man-hater, but she’d always kept the guys she dated at arm’s length.

“What if he doesn’t call?” I asked, voicing my worst fear. “He did it before.”

“Oh, sweetie, he was just a boy back then. If I can bestow any of my wisdom onto you, I would encourage you to be patient. There might be things going on with him that you don’t know about. After your father, I always assumed every man would hurt me like he had. When any relationship after that would encounter a bump, I would walk away without a backward glance. I thought it was the only way to protect myself from getting hurt again. The older I get, the more I see the mistakes I’ve made. Not only did I push away a few promising relationships, but I also passed my distrust of men onto you. You’re young, and yet I already see you acting under the same assumptions I did.”

I couldn’t believe the words pouring out of her mouth. All my life I thought she was so strong the way she would see through the men who tried to hurt her. To hear her take responsibility felt wrong. She was just trying to protect her heart. How could she blame herself for that?

“You were always so strong.”

“Honey, I wasn’t strong. I was scared. Too terrified to give my heart to anyone after your father broke it. Now I’m a lonely old woman who wonders what I could have had if only I’d allowed myself to trust someone. I’m happy enough, but I feel like I missed the boat. You understand what I mean?”

“You’re not old,” I argued, moving to the couch to hold her hand.

“I feel old. But sometimes I’m just downright lonely.”

My heart ached at her words. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t realize you were lonely. I can come over more often. We’ll do more stuff,” I said as her eyes filled with tears.

“Sweetie, you’ve always been so good to me. I treasure every moment we spend together, but I know you’re busy with school and work. Besides, this kind of loneliness is different. I ache for companionship.”

I silently gnawed on her words. In a million years, I never would have expected to hear that kind of admission from her. I’d always admired Mom for her strong sense of independence. I wanted to be like her. Now I found myself reeling, not knowing what to believe.

She changed the subject, and for the rest of the afternoon we continued to chat like we did every Sunday, but we stayed away from the sticky subject of relationships. Only when I was pulling on my jacket to leave did she tell me to take her words to heart.

The next day Dalton still hadn’t called or texted. My doubts increased. Despite Mom’s big revelation, I was starting to think my instincts were right. Dalton had got what he wanted from me and he had moved on. I ended up skipping classes that morning and moping around the house.

I was debating watching a House Hunters marathon or taking a nap when my phone finally chimed. I nearly dropped it in my haste to answer when I saw Dalton’s name on the caller ID.

“Hello,” I answered. My voice was harsher than I intended.

“Courtney?”

“I see you found your phone again.” The sarcastic reply tumbled from my mouth before I could even think of retracting it.

I heard him sigh over the phone before he answered, “I’m sorry about that, Court. I know in light of our history that didn’t come off well.”

His voice sounded defeated and my sudden flare of anger completely dissipated. “What’s going on, Dalton?”

He hesitated, exhaling deeply before answering, “Just a bunch of crap.”

“With the team?” I sat on the edge of the couch on pins and needles waiting for him to get to the point.

“Nah, I wish. This is the same shit I’ve been dealing with for years. I guess you could say it finally came to a head.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” My heart was starting to ache from the pain I could hear in his voice.

“You’re doing it, babe. Just talking to you makes me feel so much better.”

“I wish I was there,” I said wistfully.

“Nah, you don’t. There’s nothing good about the place my mind is at right now. I would drag you down.”

“Dalton, can you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe talking about it will make it more manageable.”

He sighed again. “It’s just the same old family drama, trying to live up to the expectations of my asshole father.”

“You’re kidding, right? Your dad’s a sports guy. Aren’t you like a sports dad’s wet dream? Excuse me for putting it that way, but how the hell could you not be living up to his expectations?”

He chuckled wryly. “Shit, now I do wish you were here. I like hearing you all fired up. I bet you look seriously adorable right now, all ferocious.” He sounded marginally happier. “My father’s just always demanded the best from me. Sometimes I think he wants my basketball career more than I do. Every once in a while I get sick of hearing his shit. That’s basically what happened this weekend, but times ten.” His voice trailed off.

“What happened?” I was sure I sounded pushy, coaxing him along, but I wanted him to continue opening up to me.

“I pretty much told him to fuck off.”

“Wow.”

“I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve got enough going on in my head with the tournament without him coming to my room to tell me I’m fucking up by obsessing over some girl who means nothing. I lost it. I swear I wanted to rip his head off. Collin talked me down, but in the end I told him I was done with his abuse, that I was done with basketball. Coach Riley showed up. It turned into a whole thing.”

“No,” I gasped. I couldn’t believe things could escalate to that point. To think Dalton would be willing to walk away from basketball.

“I meant it. I’ll finish out the season, but I’m done trying to carry his dreams. It’s stopped being fun.”

“It could still be fun, Dalton,” I said. “If your dad would take your not so subtle hint and back off, maybe you could start to enjoy the game again. And I’ll be there, cheering you along.”

“You will? I was worried you wouldn’t forgive me for not calling. I just couldn’t until I got my shit together. My head has been seriously messed up the last few days. I’m sorry for doing that to you, babe.”

“Dalton, I understand. You don’t have to apologize. Want to know the truth? I had my doubts, but that’s my lame-ass insecurities.”

“Damn, I got to go. Coach is calling me.”

“Go. Call me when you get a chance. And, Dalton?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be watching you tonight. I expect to see you enjoying the moment. And kicking some ass.”

He laughed. “You know it, babe.” He went silent, making me think he’d hung up already.

“Courtney?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, girl. Why aren’t you answering your messages?” Amanda demanded to know when she showed up for her shift.

“Did you text me?” I pulled my phone from my apron pocket. “Crap, it’s dead. I forgot to charge it after I talked to Dalton earlier. What did you need?” I asked as I plugged the phone in behind the bar. I definitely needed a charged phone.

“All I know is Collin told me you have to watch SportsCenter tonight.”

“What time?”

She pulled her phone from her apron to check the time. “Oh hell, like now,” she said, grabbing one of the remotes to change the channel on the TV that was closest to us.

“Hey,” a middle-aged guy nursing his third beer tried to gripe, but he was in over his head at the moment.

“Shush,” Amanda said, glaring at him.

Any other time, I would have chastised her for being rude to a customer, but my eyes were glued to the TV, where the announcer had just said Dalton’s name. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. Dalton was once again sporting a painted face, but this time it was nothing but the letter C on his cheek.

A giggle bubbled up through me. I was certain that C was for me. Dalton had found a way to make sure I was there. Beer Belly Dude muttered under his breath that Dalton was turning into a pansy, which earned him another glare from Amanda.

We turned up the volume so we could hear the interview.

“Dalton, I have to ask. What does the C stand for?”

“All I can tell you is that it’s meant for someone very special to me.” With his answer, Dalton looked directly into the camera and held up his hand in the shape of the letter C.

The interview was short. Less than sixty seconds, but it was all I needed. With tears in my eyes, I grabbed my phone, which luckily by now was partially recharged, and sent him a message even though I knew with the game starting he wouldn’t get it for a while. I just hoped he used a password for his phone, because the message was definitely for his eyes only, making it pretty clear what my plans were for him when he returned.

Three days later, the team returned home conference champions, just like Dalton promised. There was a buzz throughout Gruby’s since everyone knew the team would be showing up tonight to celebrate. I bounced around the restaurant, feeling carefree and light as a feather. Dalton and I had talked a lot over the last few days and had grown even closer. He and his dad were still on the outs, but I could tell Dalton felt better after finally confronting him. He still had the big national championship tournament coming up and the team had earned a number-one seed, so expectations were at an all-time high. Somehow I knew Dalton could handle it. It was who he was. With or without the pressure from his father, Dalton was a leader. Only he knew what direction he was going to take with basketball, but he vowed it would be fun again.

I was busy dropping an order ticket off in the kitchen when I heard the whole restaurant explode into cheers. Hurrying out through the swinging door, anxious to see him, I didn’t see the obstacle in front of me until it nearly knocked me on my ass. A large warm pair of hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me on my feet. Lifting my eyes, I found Dalton peering down at me, making my heart race.

“Dalton,” I breathed, trying to give the appearance that I was perfectly calm. “How’s it going?” I knew the question sounded stupid the moment I’d asked it.

“Uh, good.”

Of course it was good. I thumped myself on the head before Dalton grabbed my hands. “Sorry. That was a dumb question. Congratulations. I’m so proud of you.” My words were heartfelt. I wanted him to know that his dad might be a douche, but there were some of us who truly appreciated what he did.

“Thanks, babe.” He reached down to stroke my cheek. “What time do you get off?”

“Why?” I teased him playfully, but seeing him for the first time in several days, I was thinking the same thing.

“Because the only person I want to celebrate with is right here. And the kind of celebrating I have in mind is best done without an audience.”

“Let them look.” I threw my arms around him as he lifted me up and planted a deep kiss on my lips. Loud cheers and catcalls erupted through the sports bar. We would never learn. “We seem to have a thing for making out in very public places,” I whispered, blushing as the staff whooped with delight.

He pulled back slightly. “They’re just jealous. Hey, did you catch my interview?”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked momentarily confused until I winked at him. “Always busting my balls.” He chuckled. “So, I’m thinking a statement like that surely earned me some serious brownie points.”

“Oh, you think so, huh? It really wasn’t all that big. I mean, you’re the one who said, ‘Go big or go home.’” I planted a small kiss on his chin even though we were still being watched.

“Damn. You like making me earn it. Okay, you know I don’t back down. I’ll have to think of something else. You never did say, though. When does your shift end?”

“A few hours.”

“Hell with that. I’m ready to cash in now.” He lifted me into the air again. I couldn’t help squealing with delight.

“You’re the best girlfriend a guy could ask for,” Dalton murmured before kissing me again.

My heart beat a happy dance. Dalton might be the star basketball player, but as far as I was concerned, I was the one who had gotten a slam dunk.