“You owe me a beer.” It’s been my automatic response since college.
“You’re on, but I was hoping we could play for something else.” Julius winks, and my insides turn to mush.
“Keep it PG, Mr. Cunningham. There are children here.”
He laughs and shakes his head. I drop the puck and send it toward him. He blocks me, and just as I send it back, someone yells his name, causing him to turn away.
“Score!” the machine says, and the mock cheering starts.
“That doesn’t count.”
“It does. Besides, you can’t take a goal away.”
“But—”
“No buts,” I say. “You must focus on the game.” I point to the table, and he groans.
“You sound like Peyton. She’s always telling me to focus on this or that. I haven’t played very well lately.”
“Maybe you need a good luck charm.”
Julius scoffs. “Maybe you should come to the game this weekend.”
I return his guffaw. “I distinctly remember someone telling me I was bad luck.”
Julius picks up the puck and comes toward me. “I had to blame you for something. The entire game, I watched men come up to you and flirt. I hated it. It wasn’t your fault I lost the coin toss that day.” Julius leans in to kiss me, and I shy away. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head slightly. “I just . . .” I just what? I don’t even know what I want to say. Camden never believed in PDA. Everything had to be closed door. At first, I hated it and thought he was embarrassed to be seen with me, but after a while, I became accustomed. Julius is confused and rightly so, which isn’t my intent. I lean in and press my lips to his, but he’s not entirely receptive.
“Don’t want people to know you’re on a date?”
“It’s not that. My last boyfriend wasn’t affectionate in public.”
“Well, we’ll have to change that.”
I can only bring myself to say, “Okay.”
Julius hands the flat puck to me and tells me I’m about to go down, to which I snort.
I’m up four to zero when he finally scores. “I haven’t had to work this hard before.”
“You hate losing. Don’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“A little.” I hold my thumb and index finger close together. “But I get it. It’s your nature. You want to be successful at everything you do. I just happen to be the air hockey champion of Northwestern.”
Julius sends the puck flying, and I block his attempt at scoring. He throws his hands up, and I laugh. I think he thought he’d catch me off guard, but I’m onto his wily ways.
When the score reaches seven and the machine shuts off, I do a little dance to celebrate. Julius pulls me into his arms and kisses me. I let him, enjoying every minute.
“Rematch?” he asks.
“Anytime.”
“Excuse me, but are you, Julius Cunningham?” a little boy standing near us asks. I look at Julius and raise my eyebrow.
“I am,” he says as he crouches down to this little guy's height. “What’s your name?”
“Robert, but my friends call me Bobby.”
Julius’s large hand dwarfs this little guy's hand as they shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Can I have your autograph?” Bobby holds out a napkin and pen for Julius.
“Of course. Are your mom and dad here?”
Bobby nods, turns, and points. A young couple wave, and the father starts walking toward us.
“Sorry about this,” he says when he reaches us.
“It’s not a problem at all. Do you have a phone?” Julius asks the dad. He fishes it out of his pocket while Julius and Bobby pose for a series of photos. My favorite being when Julius sets Bobby on his shoulder.
“That was amazing,” I tell him after Bobby and his dad have left us. “You were so good with him.”
“The little kids, I don’t mind. Even the teens are good. But you get those older people, who act as if I owe them something because they bought my jersey or came to a game—they bother me. Oftentimes, they’re rude and demanding or think they can cut in front of a little guy like Bobby. Give me hundreds of kids like him, and I’ll sign and take pictures all damn day.”
Julius and I are about to leave when another child comes up to us. From there, a line starts. I stand by, taking pictures when asked and even posing for a few when someone recognizes me.
What catches me off-guard is when a young lady asks Julius if I’m his girlfriend. I didn’t say anything because I’ve never commented on my personal life before, but he had plenty to say. “Let’s just say, I want her to be my person.”
Eighteen
Julius
When something you’ve said without thinking of the consequences spreads like rapid-fire, the only thing you can do is run with it. I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted Autumn to be my person. I do. I love spending time with her, I’m attracted to her, and I can’t stop thinking about her. Should I have said it on our first date?