I felt my smile reach my ears.
“I knew it!” Blane slapped his hand into the small table in front of us, causing a commotion.
“Shhh, I’ve already been delisted as a feminist. Now they’ll call me a ball baby!”
“Let’s see what’s happening on Twitter,” he suggested, and I slapped my forehead.
“Fuck.”
He cracked up and swiped his finger up the screen on his phone.
@Hafton101:
Looky here – @BallerSteele is out with the former #CuteCatie. Are they an item? (@SonnyB_KnocknBoots) What about the ’ship?
@SonnyB_KnocknBoots:
Hey, #CuteCatie, come back and see me - fill me in - I have this new intern who spends his day watching porn
@SexySarina:
Aw, look at the cute couple #steeleandcutecatie <3
Blane started typing away, and I peered over his shoulder.
@BallerSteele:
Working on it, @Hafton101 (On both the #ship and #CuteCatie)
“Looks like they’re already talking about you.” He ran his knuckles over my cheek, and I shivered.
“You cold?”
I shook my head.
“Here.” He picked off a piece of the scone and ran it along my lips. I opened willingly and let it fall on my tongue. “We could take a picture of our tattoos.” He swiped the hair off my shoulder and tugged at my sweatshirt.
“Oh God,” I grumbled. “That seems like a lifetime ago. But it wasn’t.”
“It definitely wasn’t, and it was fun.”
Blane ran his nose along my cheek before backing away. Then he winked and leaned close again. I was getting dizzy from all the back and forth, or maybe just from him. Who the hell knew?
He whispered near my ear, his warm breath stirring my hair. “Let’s do this again, Cute Cate.”
I smiled like a fool, swallowed, and nodded.
“I have to go; Coach wants us in for a team meeting. But I’m driving you home.”
“Okay.”
That’s how easily I gave in to him.
Ball baby.
Blane
She wasn’t the same Cate when she first showed up on Saturday. Quiet, reserved, or whatever the fuck you call it. She wasn’t the foulmouthed sprite I knew her to be.
But it didn’t take long for her to warm up, the pulse in her neck to start fluttering, and a few four-letter words to come out of her mouth. I had her at hello, or whatever the movie said. I think my high school girlfriend made me watch it before she put out.
Monday morning, I arched my back in my seat on the bus and adjusted my earphones. A little old-school Guns and Roses blasted in my ears as I shut my eyes and concentrated on ball. And a little more Cate.
I’d have to invite her personally to the game on Friday, so I could know where she’d been hiding.
Okay, enough Cate.
I visualized my crossover and my spin move. I actually saw it happening in slow motion against our upcoming opponent, and felt a rush of adrenaline.
Someone tapped on my shoulder, and I turned to find Mo behind me on the bus.
“Ready to ball out?” He slid the cans off my ears.
“Fucking A right,” I shouted.
“Listen, man, the baby’s due in April,” Mo said in a low voice. “I’m yours until then, but I got to have a plan. We need this ’ship.”
“I know, my brother. I know. You’re gonna do good and make your bro proud. And me.”
“You too, Steele.”
We both settled back with our music until we arrived and were hustled off to a practice.
My mom called just as I was heading to my hotel room for the night.
“Hey, Mom,” I answered, shutting the door behind me.
“Guess what? I got a bigger advance than I thought, and Gigi is coming to stay with the dogs so I can come up again in two weeks!”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I blew out a long breath. Of course she was. My dad was also scheduled to come in two weeks.
“I assume you know Dad is coming?”
“Yeah, I’m going to stay out of his way . . . okay, baby?”
As if.
“Of course. Listen, I have to get some rest. Big game tomorrow night.”
“You do that, honey.”
We hung up, and I texted Cate on the new number she’d given me, but I didn’t hear back.
The next morning, I woke up early and did a few rounds of pushups and sit-ups in my room. Ashton, who had come in sometime after me, was dead asleep in the other bed. I slapped his ass when I was done.
“Come on, we got a team breakfast and a light practice.”
“Shit, fuck,” he mumbled, but got up and walked to the bathroom with his dick in his hand.
“Dude, you have got to stop that,” I called out, but knew he wouldn’t.
I checked my phone after lunch and saw I had a text from Cate.
CATE: Sorry. Was working on a project late last night. Good luck today! :)
I didn’t respond; Coach would have my hide if my mind wasn’t on winning this game, which it was. It was a nationally televised matchup, prime time on ESPN, and I was fucking ready to ball out.