“I’ll be there at six.”
I stalk back around the counter and press a lingering kiss to her lips.
Ryker clears his throat. “Sooner we finish, sooner you can get out of here.”
With reluctance, I pull away and give her a meaningful look. “Then get back to work.” I pause at the door. “Oh, and, Seraphine, pack a bag.”* * *I pull into Seraphine’s driveway with five minutes to spare. Much to my surprise, she’s out on the porch with a small overnight bag resting at her feet waiting on me.
As soon as I shift the truck into park, she’s bounding down the stairs and climbing up into the cab beside me.
“Miss me?” I look at her over the top of my sunglasses.
“Depends.” She taps her lip, pretending to think. “How lame would it be for me to say yes when I saw you less than an hour ago?”
I laugh as I throw the truck back into gear. “Then we can be lame together.”
She reaches over and places her hand over mine on the shifter, rubbing her fingers over my knuckles. “Together…I like the sound of that.”
“I can’t help but notice you packed a bag.”
A soft, melodious laughs bubbles out of her. “Well, this very bossy man told me to.”
“Mmm, really?”
“Yeah and as it turns out, I kind of like it when he orders me around.”
I damn near swerve off the road as images of all the other ways she might like me bossing her around.
“Are you nervous?” I flip my hand and interlace our fingers. Her inexperience would bother a lot of men, but to me, it means I’ll be the one to teach her—and even if it doesn’t happen tonight, I know I’ll be the one to have the honor of helping her learn what she likes.
“Maybe. But only a little.”
“Nothing has to happen between us, I just want to wake up next to you.”
Seraphine falls quiet, her fingers tensing against mine. I worry I came on too strong, until she says, “Or…something…could happen.”
Fuck. Me.
My cock twitches in my pants. She’s this beguiling mixture of shy and bold, and truth be told, the combination really works for me.
“Sure.” I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “But only what you want to happen. There’s no rush.” The words are a little painful to say, because Lord knows, the thought of sliding into her sweet pussy is enough to drive me mad, but I respect her more than enough to wait until she’s ready.
“There is if we don’t want to be late for the game!”
It takes me a second to process the subject change. “We’re going to make it.”
“Told you,” I tell her, five minutes later, when we’re parked, out of the truck, and in line to get tickets.
“Only because you drove like a madman.”
“How many?” the PTA mom at the door asks.
“Two please.” After paying, Seraphine and I head into the crowded gymnasium hand-in-hand. Luck’s on our side and we find an open spot on the second row of the bleachers, mid-court.
“How long has Des been playing basketball?”
My heart swells at the sound of Seraphine calling her Des. “Since she was old enough for city league. But this is her first varsity game.”
“That’s exciting. I don’t think there’s anything I’ve liked that long.”
“Cars,” I tell her, bumping my shoulder into hers.
“That’s true. Does she want to play in college?”
“Depends on the day you ask her, but most likely, yes.”
Before Seraphine can respond, the lights flicker and a pounding bassline fills the gym. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer booms, “let’s give it up for the four-time state champs, the Lady Dolphins!”
Strobe lights flash and everyone on our side of the bleachers goes wild, Seraphine included.
From there, the starting players are called out, including my girl. “Number fourteen, point guard, Desi Reyes!” I whoop and cheer so loud for my girl I miss most of her stats; good thing I know them by heart.
The game starts fast and moves even faster. The girls on the court are all here to win. Seraphine claps and cheers with me as Desi runs up and down the court, holding her own during her varsity debut.
By the fourth quarter, the game is tied and everyone—players and spectators alike—are tense. There are only seconds on the clock when Desi manages to steal the ball. With lightning-quick speed and damn near robotic precision, she maneuvers back down the court before.
“Shoot!” her coach yells as the clock rapidly counts down.
She stops at the three-point line and launches the ball like it’s a grenade and the goal’s her target. I hold my breath, feeling frozen in place, until the ball sails through the hoop, nothing but net.
The buzzer sounds.
The crowd goes wild.
My girl just scored the winning point in her first varsity game.
“Mateo,” Seraphine yells over the cacophony of sound, “she’s amazing!”