I nodded. “Something that helps players empower themselves sounds necessary and important. Honestly, I’d need to know more about it to say for sure, but I feel the passion when you speak.”
“I wouldn’t mind telling you more.” He lifted his glass to his lips with his eyes trained on me. “Maybe you could look it over.”
Staring into the depth of his brown eyes, I murmured, “I could do that.”
Neither of us said anything as we held each other’s gaze.
He took another sip before placing the glass back down. “You’re cool as fuck, you know that?”
I bit down on my bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah.”
He smirked. “I don’t usually—”
Before he could finish his sentence, two attractive women in low-cut tops ran up on the other side of him.
“Hey, excuse me,” one interrupted with drunken giggles and flirtatious vibes.
“Hi!” the other one chirped, grabbing his shoulder.
He glanced over his shoulder at them.
“Are you Lamar Anderson?” the shorter of the two wondered. She tucked her ash-blonde wig behind her ear and smiled up at him.
He shook his head. “No, I’m not,” he responded, turning back to me.
He wasn’t rude, but it was clear that he wasn’t interested in entertaining them.
“Are you sure? You didn’t play football for Spring Hill High School?” the taller one asked.
With a tight smile, he turned toward them. “I think you have the wrong guy.”
“No, I’m sure of it…” The taller one leaned forward.
The shorter one, the one closest to me, looked over his shoulder at me and then did a double take. “Jummy?”
The childhood moniker that had haunted me from eighth grade until senior year knocked the wind out of me. I stared at the shorter woman as she tossed the ash-blonde hair over her shoulders. She didn’t look familiar to me at all.
“Oh my God, Olivia, it’s Jummy,” she said in a singsong tone.
Olivia!
My eyes darted to the taller one and then narrowed as her features came into focus.
I know that’s not who I think it is.
“Morgan, I don’t know who Jummy is,” Olivia said, even though I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes. She shifted her attention to Lamar and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m more interested in getting to know him.”
The shorter one, Morgan, continued. “She went to high school…”
As she talked, I decided to excuse myself to the restroom. I needed to compose myself. I slipped off the barstool and immediately caught Lamar’s attention.
His head snapped my way, and he reached out for me. His hand wrapped around my wrist, and his touch sent a jolt of electricity through me.
I gasped at the unexpected sensation.
“My bad,” he apologized in a rush, removing his hand from me. “You’re, uh, you’re not leaving, are you?”
I could still feel his touch and the way he’d engulfed my wrist. “Just going to the restroom,” I told him. “I’ll be right back.”
