Dolce (Love at Center Court, #2)

Doing my usual thing at warmup, stretching my wingspan and my hammies, I heard a lot of boos. Part of being on the road. It didn’t matter; I took possession after the tip and didn’t let my foot off the gas.

“Push it,” Coach yelled from the sidelines, and I did.

We put on a show, the starting five. We were up by twenty-two at the half, and hit the locker room with chants and slaps.

Back at the new half, we all took turns getting rest on the bench. Conley rotated us like a pro, veins bulging in his neck as he screamed plays to two of the new guys rotating in and out, and then to us. I ended it with a quick pass to a newbie, Slick, and he dunked at the buzzer.

Another one in the bucket.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” I yelled in the showers after the game.

“Dude, I need some chicken and some bird,” Alex yelled back.

“You’re sick,” I called back.

“No, that’s you, lover boy.”

He was sort of right.



Wednesday, I picked up Cate at her new place at five. She came running down the steps in jeans and a puffy coat, her hair tucked into a dark green Hafton knit cap. I smiled to myself at her repping the team.

“Hey,” she said.

“I could’ve come up to the door, but if you’re not ready for me to be in your place, I’m cool.” I winked as she buckled up.

“It’s just . . . never mind. Chalk it up to excitement.”

I wasn’t sure what it was going to take for her to come out of her repressed shell, and I certainly didn’t know why I wanted to try, but fuck it.

“Congrats on the game,” she breathed out, her words making little puffs of smoke in the car.

Reaching out to turn up the heat, I said, “Yeah, it felt good to give a beating that bad on the road. Speaking of which, you coming on Friday? I can get you a ticket with an actual seat.”

“I’m not sure yet. I want to, but I have to see if I can.”

What the fuck was that all about? I raised an eyebrow.

She focused on fastening her seatbelt, not meeting my eyes. “Seriously, I’m working on this project with a partner, and they only have certain times available.”

“I got you. I’m hurt, but I got you.”

“So, what are we doing?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I reached over the console and flicked on some music. “Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

She turned the dial, and whose voice came shooting through the truck? Yep, Sonny.

“Yo, Hafton, I’m single. Miranda and I had a bad breakup. Who wants to console me? Call me here. Now.”

Some awful twerk it on the dance floor vibe came on, and we both laughed.

“I can’t believe I quit,” she admitted.

“I don’t get why you let him push you around.”

Cate pushed her hair behind her ear, but kept her gaze focused on the road. “It was complicated. Basically, my sisters are different from me. They’re all girlie and like to woo the guys. Clara, the oldest, told me to soften my approach at work.”

“Doesn’t seem like you to give a fuck.” I caught a quick peek of her out of my peripheral vision. She was biting her lower lip and scrunching her face, deep in thought.

“I guess I was struggling with who I was before all this . . . getting kicked out of my major. I don’t really know.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re finding your way,” I said honestly. I thought about if I didn’t have ball. Who would I be?

Then Sonny interrupted my thoughts again.

“Sonny B. here, who’s this?”

A male caller said, “Dude, if you’re single again, you have to check out Ariel Stone. I’ll—”

I didn’t hear the rest because Cate grabbed the dial and switched the station.

“I can’t listen to him anymore.”

“That’s good, ’cause we’re here.” I stopped in front of a barn and put the truck in park.

“What’s this?”

“A barn.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “I can see that.”

“Another booster, they all love me. They’re banking on tickets wherever I settle. Come on.” I threw open my door.

Cate jumped out of her side of the truck, and I came around to grab her arm. Her head was even with my rib cage, and she was practically sinking into the wet grass as we walked toward the door. With a flick of my wrist, I slid open the large slatted door, and right there in the center of the barn was a picnic.

I might have asked Mo for help, who in turn might have asked his woman for some guidance.

“This is so beautiful.”

Cate stopped in her tracks and stared in front of her. Strings of tiny white lights hung from the ceiling, giving the barn a romantic light. A large, soft blanket lay on the floor, an invitation to sit down and relax if there ever was one. A bottle of wine chilled in a bucket, and a small spread of finger foods sat with a pair of wineglasses and small plates on one corner of the blanket. On the other corner was a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries, artfully arranged into a heart, sitting on top of another folded blanket. A small cooler waited beside the wine.

“I didn’t really do much,” I said with a shrug. “D’s sister Angela helped; you know, Mo’s lady. But I asked her to,” I quickly added.

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