My eyes roamed his face for any sort of clue he might be joking, but not knowing anything about him to be sure. “What do you mean?”
“The talk. Otherwise, we just go back and forth, both of us trying to claim dominance over the armrest. I don’t want to live like that.”
A smile played around his lips, and I couldn’t help but join him. Then I remembered I was on a date and glanced back at Jason. He was now gesturing wildly, his furry armpits flailing about, and shouting mild obscenities to his new friends, who looked equally as rowdy. I turned back to my seat neighbor.
“So, I get it the whole second quarter?” I raised my eyebrows in question.
He solemnly held his hand up in some sort of Boy Scout signal. “On my honor.”
“And then what? At the buzzer, you just bump my arm off?”
“Exactly.”
I laughed. He joined me, a low breathy chuckle that raised the hair on my arms.
“I was under the impression men always took the armrest. No questions.”
His eyes flicked over to Jason for a brief second then back to mine. “Not all guys. Some of us like to have the talk.”
“I appreciate that.” I made a show of plopping my arm on the armrest between us.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said. “Come third quarter, it’s all mine again.”
“So, wait. That means I get it all through half-time then, right?”
He blinked. Clearly, he had forgotten about the twenty-minute halftime show. After the dunks, the halftime show was mine and Mira’s favorite part of the whole game.
His head tilted as he considered his options. “How about we go halfsies?”
I made a face. “I’m not sure. You said specifically your time started again at third quarter. And even though I know absolutely nothing about you, I’m positive you’re a man of your word.”
His lips lifted in a smile, but before he could speak, Jason nudged my arm, forcing my attention back to my date.
“Those guys think the Jazz won’t make the semifinals this year.” His voice was about two octaves louder than it needed to be, and his sour breath singed my nose hairs. “Idiots!” He laughed, yelling his last statement toward the people in question only to get into another spirited discussion on the merits of the team.
I leaned back into my seat. My seat neighbor was talking to his friends on the other side of him, so I took a fresh breath of his scent and enjoyed my turn with the armrest. It was so much more comfortable that way. From sly glances out of the corner of my eye, I discovered he was with two other guys, one of whom had a wedding ring on his hand, but that was all I could discover before I started to worry my interest would be noticed.
The whistle blew, and the second quarter began. The Jazz were up by four points. Jason settled back in beside me, offering me his special brand of commentary. Earlier, when we were traipsing up the stairs to our seats making small talk, I made the mistake of telling him I had never been to a professional basketball game. That confession resulted in him thinking I had also never heard of the sport of basketball. The patronizing way he talked grated on my nerves.
Still, I feigned interest while he droned on and tried not to doze off.
During the halftime dance show, Jason stood up.
“I’m grabbing another dog and a beer. You want anything?” he asked, his voice in competition with the music.
At this point, all I wanted was a hot bath and a Tylenol PM, but that wouldn’t happen for about two more hours.
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
He frowned. “You sure? I haven’t bought you anything all night?”
And he wouldn’t start now.
“I ate dinner at work today.” It was slightly astonishing how quickly a white lie could fall from my lips. I blamed it on me shifting into some sort of survival mode.
A sigh escaped me when Jason made his way down the aisle away from me. I leaned back in my chair. He wasn’t a bad guy—that I could tell so far, anyway. But he wasn’t for me. That much was certain. A part of me was tempted to bail on him and save ourselves an awkward post-date goodbye, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave the game, let alone actuallydothat to a person.
A nudge at my right side had my arm falling off the armrest. I looked over to my seat neighbor who stared forward, an innocent expression on his face.
