Alex looked back at me. “Oh, I was just hearing about life in Jersey, near NYC and all that.”
“God, you are dead set on going to New York. You already know Mo is going to Brooklyn, and they’re not going to take two guys from Hafton again. That was a one-time deal with Tiberius and Jamel.”
“Bro, there are two teams in NYC. I’m thinking about my boys, the Knickerbockers.”
“I’ve seen them play once,” Cate offered.
“Yeah? Who knew?” Alex said.
When he wrapped his arm around Cate, pulling her tiny body next to his, I glared up at him and his big head of dreads.
“With my dad,” she added. “A guy who was a regular at his restaurant gave him tickets once. Dad is a sports fan with three daughters, but I’m the only one who was into it too.”
As Cate lifted her face toward Alex and explained her childhood, I clenched my free fist at my side.
“That’s what got you into sports?” I said, interrupting their walk down memory lane.
“Yep. My other sisters were easily poisoned against my dad, but not me. I loved how easy he was, and nurturing. I guess it’s weird how I found comfort at a sporting event. I loved the hot dogs and the action, and my dad explaining it all to me.”
Suddenly she waved her hand in front of her face, clearing any expression. “Ugh, this is getting too deep for now.”
Alex grinned down at her. “Well, take a good look at me, girl, because I’m going to be playing at the Garden one day.”
“Yeah, for the championship,” I reminded him. “Got to win that first, my man.”
“You already know, Steele. We got that in the fucking bag.”
A tall beauty who looked like an African princess slinked up next to White and purred his name.
“Gotta go, lovers.” He gave me a chin bump and blew a kiss at Cate before sauntering off with the ball baby.
“Who’s the little girl?” she purred at him as they walked away. “She’s not your type, babe.”
A frown spread across Cate’s face, and I gave her a squeeze.
“Slough it off, beautiful. She’s a hanger-on and you’re a keeper.”
At my words, she looked at me with starry eyes. “For years I thought when women said in romantic comedies their knees went weak, I thought they were bullshitting. But now I know what they were talking about.”
For some reason, this excited me. Cate’s eyes weren’t starry you’re-going-pro eyes. They were more what-you-said-meant-the-world-to-me eyes. The kind of shit my mom wrote about, but I also thought only happened in people’s imaginations. Now it was directed at me.
And it made me feel like Michael Jordan.
Enough was enough; I had to get Cate alone.
“Want to go back to my room where it’s quiet?”
She nodded and I led the way, my hand on her lower back, my fingers itching to run over her bare skin.
Inside my room, I asked, “Are you okay with me locking the door?”
Another nod.
“It’s not that I want to go all hot and heavy on you, but I don’t want any nosy people poking in,” I lied.
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t want anyone coming in, and yes, I do want to go hot and heavy, but only when you’re ready.”
“I think I am.”
You think or you know, Cate?”
We stood facing each other, our bodies barely an inch apart, not touching but sparking off each other. I reached out to take one of her curls between two fingers, sliding down its length as I focused on its silkiness rather than her eyes.
“I don’t want you running off again, saying what happens between us is wrong or forbidden. It’s not. When a man likes a woman and the woman likes him back, it’s okay. When there’s respect and shit—” Frustrated with myself, I ripped off my sweatband and ran my fingers through my hair. “God, I sound like a freaking psychologist. But I like you, Cate. You excite me, and not just sexually. In a lot of ways.”
“I know,” she whispered, and took one small step to close the divide between us.
I didn’t hesitate. My mouth came down on hers, nipping and tasting. Unable to wait another minute, I ran my fingers over her back, under her shirt but on top of the tank.
“Can I take this all off? It’s in the way,” I said, still feeling the need to ask permission.
“Yes,” she breathed into my mouth.
I broke free and tugged her shirts off. She stood there in a red lace bra, her pulse beating a rapid rhythm in the curve of her throat as she gazed up at me with wide eyes.
“You’re gorgeous, Cate.” My finger wound a path from her collarbone to her cleavage and back up to her heart. “Inside and out,” I mumbled before kissing her earnestly. My cock raged in my jeans, but my brain told me to slow my pace.