“Nothing much. Dancers, kiss cam, that kind of thing.”
“Oh, man, I missed the kiss cam? I’ve always wanted to do that.” He waggled his eyebrows in my direction before he hiccuped out a burp and took a swig of beer. I took that as a cue that I could look forward again. I wasn’t intentionally ignoring Duke, but though my heated cheeks had cooled, my hands were still shaking, the last effect of his kiss. He hadn’t looked my way either, but when the ref blew the whistle, Duke’s arm nudged mine off the armrest.
A grin exploded onto my face, and my heart began thumping all over again. I placed my hand over my mouth in an attempt to hide my unbidden smile. I couldn’t contain it, but I was trying my best to looklesscrazy.
I could tell he was smiling too, though I didn’t look at him. He kept fidgeting, like he was having a hard time sitting still. I knew the feeling. It wasn’t just the first kiss—the heart-stopping, bone-melting, fire-inducing, entire-arena-watching first kiss. Although, that one definitely got me. But it had been for show. The one everybody had been expecting. They asked. He delivered. But there had been a second kiss. I wasn’t sure the camera was even still on us by that time. I hoped it wasn’t. He had pulled back, looked down, smiled, and kissed me again. Quick and sweet. Like he couldn’t help it. As though we were on much friendlier terms than we actually were.
“What’s so funny?” Jason’s voice crowded into my space. Instantly, my smile faded, though it didn’t go away completely.
“Oh, nothing. I was thinking of something that happened earlier.”
“What was it?” Jason had chili drippings on his goatee. He took another bite and waited expectantly for me to fill the silence. I wondered howhethought this date was going.
“Oh…nothing. It was from work earlier. It would take too long to explain.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
To my right, I felt the distinct shaking of shoulders. I raised my arm next to his and nudged him. I meant to remove my arm but found there was enough space for both of us on the armrest, if we pressed close enough. I left it there—half expecting him to nudge me off. He didn’t.
“You’re a waitress, right?” Jason said.
“Yeah.”
“Can you tell me the special for tonight?” He raised his eyebrows at me again in a way that made my skin crawl. I looked away, giving him no encouragement to continue his thought process. If MixNMingle had a star rating, he just lost a few.
The crowd around us suddenly took an explosive turn, shouting profanities and booing down toward the court.
“Oh, come on, ref!” Jason exploded in an affront at the game, leaning down to discuss the last play with his new friends in front of us.
I folded my arms across my chest and sunk down in my seat, my previous good mood having taken a turn.
“Where do you work?” Duke’s low voice spoke to me. Our eyes were both on the game, but his head was tilted toward me.
Jason was still in a heated debate, so I braved a glance at Duke’s face. He met my gaze with a friendly smile. I didn’t feel threatened by him in the same way Jason made me feel. But I’d gone from ‘girl who never went on dates’ to ‘girl who went out with one guy only to kiss another guy on the same date.’ It had been a busy night. My mind was a whirl of over-stimulation. I wasn’t sure how comfortable I felt about giving him my personal information. I had done my best to vet Jason before I went out with him—though a fat lot of good that did me.
I mean, I could kiss him, of course, but telling him where I worked seemed crazy.
“Downtown,” I said, giving him a little smile. “How about you?”
His eyes grazed over my face before the hint of a smile played across his. “In my garage.”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head. Now I had the uncrushable urge to know exactly what he did in his garage and why. But in order to get that information, he would surely expect a bit more from me.
“That’s nice,” I said, stealing back the armrest.
“It is nice.” He grinned, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, giving up the armrest even though it was technically his turn.
My date was two and a half beers into the third quarter when he made his first move. I had leaned forward to give my body a new position in the uncomfortable chair. There I was, minding my own business, trying to politely ignore the guy on my left and stop thinking about the man on my right, when a heavy hand plopped onto my back and started massaging. My body froze. I never questioned the hand. I knew exactly who it belonged to.
I immediately leaned back in my chair, Jason barely moved his hand out of the way before it got squished between my back and the seat.
“Whoa, jumpy tonight, huh?” He grinned down at me, retracting his hand before holding out his drink. “Want a little? To take the edge off?”
“No,” I said. All my nerves were sending jolts of warning to my brain, my fight-or-flight sense suddenly activated. Not because the touch was necessarily inappropriate, but because it was unwanted.
I faced forward again once I was sure Jason’s hands were occupied with his beer and my foam finger that he had confiscated during a streak of points from the Jazz.
“If it gets too crowded over there, I’m happy to trade you seats anytime,” Duke said in my ear. Goosebumps rose up on every inch of my exposed flesh at his words.
“I’m okay,” I insisted, touched by his protective nature. “Thanks, though.”
