“Did you just quote Lewis?” He smiles at me. “It’s official, Carrie. You’re one of us now.”
“I take it back.”
We laugh together. Sure, Adam’s shorter than Lewis—smaller, too. But he’s cute, funny, and kind. What more could a girl ask for? Donovan should’ve been askingAdamfor help, not me. He’s basically perfect boyfriend material.
The cheerleaders wrap up, and the ground beneath my feet starts trembling as the crowd stamps in anticipation. My heart skips a beat. This is like the Hunger Games.
Finally, the two teams burst onto the court and trot over to their benches. Donovan is hard to miss. He’s leading the rest of the pack, and his eyes instantly lock on mine, like he was searching for me, intent on making sure I made it to the game. He winks at me, before throwing his arms up to greet the crowds.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen him in his basketball stuff, but right here, right now, in this exact moment in time, he’s hotter than I’ve ever seen him.
This is all kinds of wrong.
The Cardinals’ bench is right in front of us, and I’m pretty sure that’s exactly why he chose these seats for us.
He grabs a bottle of water, flashing me a smile. “You made it.”
“You’resoobservant.”
His eyes trail down to the tops of my thighs. “Did you bring the other half of my lucky charm?”
I have no idea why I decided to wear the panties—but I did.
“Why?” I smirk. “Are you wearing the top?”
“I tried, but I couldn’t breathe.” He glances over his shoulder. “Listen, we can talk lingerie later. I’ve got a game to win. Any last words?”
I think for a beat. I could tease him some more but what slips out is, “Make me proud.”
He thumps his chest twice, nods at Adam, and jogs over to the coach.
The game starts in a flurry of chants, whistles, and squeaks, and I’m tired just watching them. I keep my eyes set on Don, but it’s hard to follow. His energy is boundless, his eyes shining, focused on the ball.
Something stirs inside me. I knew how passionate he is, but seeing it in person is a whole other level. I’m actually glad I got to see this side of him. Lewis is different out there under the lights, too. The knowing smirk is gone, replaced by a furrowed brow, his concentration sharpening as he scores, and the Cardinals alreadyhave a twelve-point lead. It’s an incredible start, and I can’t help but cheer along with the crowd. Adam gives me a pointed glance and laughs.
Over on the other bench, you could cut the air with a knife. The Cardinals’ opponents are on edge. I don’t like them. They’re aggressive, too rough—and the ref agrees with me.
My eyes dart back to Don just as he snatches the ball off a player and makes a lunge for victory. It all happens so fast. The other guy spins on his heel and lunges for Donovan, reaching his arms out to block him, but Don dodges to the side and twists, lining up his shot. I dig my nails into my seat, ready to leap to my feet any second now, trembling with anticipation. Just as Don jumps, the other guy surges out of nowhere and rams him with his shoulder, sending Don falling back in slow motion and crashing onto the ground.
“Fucking asshole!”
The words come spilling out of me. The subs twist in their seats.
The crowd erupts, and the coach is losing it, yelling something I can’t make out at the ref.
Don clambers to his feet, a hand clasped over the shoulder that broke his fall, his face twisted in pain. He makes a beeline for the other player, and they stand there, inches apart. Donovan’s lips move. The other guy is taller—but Donovan is on fire.
Break his fucking jaw!
The ref blows his whistle.Foul.
I’m still on my feet, the blood thrumming in my ears, and when that scummy number 34 turns back and shoots Donovan a shit-eating grin, I lose it.
“Fuck! That piece of shit thinks he’s funny, huh?”
It’s not like me, and I’m not the only one baying for blood. But the guy glances over at me.
“Take this, you clown!” I hold up my middle finger. “Bigger than your dick, am I right?”
