Page 55 of The Way We Dance

Not sure that was any better but I knew him finding out was a possibility, so I had to be ok with that.

"Cool," I played it off, though not very well. Cool seemed to be the only word I could squeak out.

"He said you never gave those tickets away before. Should Sam and I feel special?"

I shook my head because the reason behind that was not very exciting. It wasn't like I coveted those tickets. I just never had anyone in my life worth a shit to give them to. Not even my brother wanted to come to any of my games. He and his friends were too busy causing havoc everywhere they went, so even if they wanted to, I wouldn't have invited them just based on that fact.

"Yeah, you guys are special," I ended up telling her since it was the truth.

At this point, she had stopped laughing and was quiet on the other end.

"Why did you call, Ty?" I fucking loved it when she called me Ty. How did just the two letters of my name become so deep, so fast?

“I missed you,” I said with more honesty.

“So this is a booty call?”

“No Miss Priss, I am halfway home and need to deal with my brother before tomorrow. I think I really did just miss you.”

She processed my words with a few quiet breaths before responding. “Unbelievably enough, I miss you too.”

My smile could have lit my way home with how bright it was. In that instant, I knew I was getting a little too attached to Giselle but I couldn’t bring myself to find a downside to that as long as Coach didn’t find out—at least not until he wasn't paying her for my lessons anymore.

“Tell Mrs. Watson to meet you at gate D. There is a Family and Friends Will Call booth there. Just give them my name and have an ID ready and they’ll give you my tickets.”

“Ok, I can do that,” she drifted off and I knew she was writing everything down. It would be like her to take specific and hardcore notes on the process of attending a football game. “Anything else?”

“Yep,” I had just decided then and there on something else. “I will tell Will Call to give you a pass for the post game waiting area. It’s right outside the locker room. Show the pass to the staff after the game and they’ll escort you to the right spot.”

At least I hoped that was how it worked, I hadn’t really ever done this but Giselle was going to need a plan if I expected her to follow through and wait for me.

“Sam will enjoy that,” she was still writing all this down as she listened. “Anything else?” She asked again.

I knew Sam would enjoy that, but I was going to enjoy it more. I ended every game with an adrenaline rush, pent up energy, and no where to deposit it all. If I couldn’t shake it off before getting home, I would sometimes end up working out after a game.

This Sunday, Giselle was going to be where it all went. She just had no idea yet. I was not a man of many surprises, though, so before hanging up, I warned her.

“Yeah,” my tone was husky and deep, taking on meaning all on its own. “Don’t wear any panties, Miss Priss. And wear your hair up in that tight bun… I want to be the one that unravels it.”

* * *

I had hungup with Giselle on that final comment, letting her think about what I was implying. When I saw her Sunday, sitting in the stands and watching the game, I would know by her hair if she was on board.

The thought of her up in the stands, clapping and cheering, her hair twisted up tight, no panties on, and only her and I knowing what that meant made me fucking hard again. This woman was going to be the death of me if I couldn’t get myself in check.

Whipping my car into my parking spot at my apartment, I looked around to see if I saw my brother’s SUV. It was there, sitting in the corner of the parking garage. It was just the sight I needed to deflate my dick.

I had a feeling he would be here tonight and I needed to talk to him once and for all about his trip to Brisé—and the stare down he gave me on the sidewalk.

He was leaning against the bar in the kitchen with his arms crossed, staring at the floor, when I walked in. It wasn't what I expected so I stopped and tilted my head, wondering if he even heard or saw me come in.

“I found a place,” he huffed without looking at me.

“Good, bro. If you’re staying in Atlanta, you need your own place.”

I inched further into the kitchen and leaned on the counter across from him, crossing my arms and mimicking his stance. The only difference was, I was looking at him, wondering why he was being so dramatic.

“Marcus and Devon got into some shit I’m not comfortable with and I told them to get the fuck out of town,” he was shaking his head and looking sad. “They were going to room with me so it looks like it’s just me.”

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