I cover my mouth with my napkin to hide my smirk at his reddening face and indignant scowl. “He’s probably dealing crayons from the back of his tricycle.”
He nods thoughtfully as if this might be a real possibility. “Maybe I should have a talk with his parents.”
“Phoenix,” I say, stifling my laughter because he’s blowing this way out of proportion. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Kids that age say someone is their boyfriend or girlfriend without even knowing what it really means. I doubt they’ve even said more than five words to each other.”
“Hmm,” he says, unimpressed. “That’s what Lorraine said when I asked her about it. Apparently they were at the park, and the boy’s soccer ball rolled over to where Reece and her friends were playing. Reece kicked it back to him, and then her and the other girls had some kind of preschool pow-wow and decided Big Dawg is Reece’s boyfriend.” He wrinkles his nose as if disgusted.
“See? They haven’t even talked to each other,” I soothe. “I’m sure it’s fine unless he’s a teenager hanging around the little kids’ park or something.”
“No, he looks to be about five.”
“Ah, you’ve done your research on Big Dawg. Did you hire a private investigator or something?”
Phoenix’s eyes widen. “Do you think I should?”
I burst into laughter. “No, goofball. I was kidding. How do you even know what he lookslike?”
“Lorraine took a few pictures of the girls playing, and he was in the background.” He pulls out his phone and flicks through it, zooming in on a photo. “Here. He looks suspicious, doesn’t he?”
I study the picture of a darling little boy in round glasses with his dark hair slicked over to one side. He’s wearing khaki pants, a button-down blue shirt, and a cute little bowtie.
“This is Big Dawg?” I ask skeptically. Phoenix nods, and I shake my head, handing the phone back. “He looks like young Sheldon.”
He scrutinizes the photo, his head tilted to one side. “Yeah, from that TV show. He’s probably some little genius who will grow up to manufacture meth like Walter White.”
“Or he could grow up to be a brilliant scientist like your brother. You could even hire him to work in the Hale lab.”
By the flat press of his lips, Phoenix appears completely unimpressed with this suggestion. “Maybe I should call the police and report him.”
“Ohhh, that sounds like a good idea.” I deepen my voice and pretend to hold a phone to my ear. “Officer, I’d like to report a potential future drug dealer. Yes, he’s about three-and-a-half feet tall, so you might want to bring backup.”
A smile toys with Phoenix’s lips before he finally breaks into a grin. “So you’re saying I’m overreacting.”
I hold my finger and thumb a half inch apart. “Maybe just a little.”
“Thanks for going with me tonight,” Phoenix says as we walk down the hallway of my apartment building.
“Thanks for inviting me and for the shoes.” I waggle the box in my left hand.
We stop in front of my door, and I turn to face him. At that moment, the door across the hall opens, and I hear my name. “Hey, Jordie. Do you want—Oh.”
Phoenix and I turn to find two of my Dragons teammates, Carrie Broxton and Sabrina Lee, standing there. Carrie has her curly hairknotted on top of her head while Sabrina’s box braids fall well below her shoulders. Their heads are swiveling back and forth between Phoenix and me like they’re being controlled by the same puppeteer.
“Hey, did y’all need something?” I prompt, and they both shake their heads in unison before dashing back into Carrie’s apartment and slamming the door. Weirdos.
Phoenix chuckles and turns his attention back to me. “Can I pick you up at the same time next week?”
“That sounds good.”
Our gazes lock, and we’re standing so close, I can smell the sweet musk of his cologne. My brain is saying to tell him goodbye and go inside. Another part of my anatomy, however, is aching to drag him inside and do very nasty things with him. I clench my thighs, and Phoenix’s eyes drop to the movement before meandering slowly back up my body. His gaze leaves a trail of hot goosebumps in its wake.
“I think we make pretty damn good partners,” Phoenix says, his voice doing that low husky thing that makes me think of the sounds he makes when he’s coming.
“Really good,” I breathe, and now I’m definitely not talking about dancing.
There’s a thump and a loudowfrom inside Carrie’s door, and I reflexively take a step back. Phoenix shakes his head as if coming out of daze and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his black athletic pants.
“Guess I’ll see you next week then.” His hand drags down my arm and gives my fingers a brief squeeze.
