Page 2 of Deck His Balls

Taking a deep breath, I step onto the stage. The bright lights nearly blind me as I scan the crowd. My heart stops when I spot Joel in the front row, looking devastating in a perfectly tailored black suit. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly I’m back at that pickup game, feeling the ghost of his touch on my skin.

“Let’s start the bidding at five hundred dollars for a date with this basketball sensation!”

The numbers start climbing. One thousand. Two thousand. Three thousand. Each bid makes my smile feel more wooden. Then a voice rings out that turns my blood to ice.

“Five thousand.”

Trevor.Caress’s creepy ex who’s been sending me inappropriate DMs since she ran into him on their awkward cruise. My stomach churns as he leers at me from his table.

“Ten thousand.”

The new voice is deep, commanding, and achingly familiar. Joel stands, his jaw set in a hard line as he stares down Trevor. The look in his eyes reminds me of how Caress told us her now fiancé, Dylan stepped up to Trevor on the cruise ship last year, ready to throw down to protect someone he cares about.

“Going once…” The auctioneer looks between them. “Going twice…”

“Fifteen thousand.” Trevor’s smirk makes my skin crawl.

“Twenty.” Joel doesn’t miss a beat.

The room goes silent. Even Trevor’s face darkens as he stays quiet.

“Sold!” The gavel strikes. “To Mr. Joel Mitchell for twenty thousand dollars!”

Relief floods my system until Joel climbs the stairs to the stage, that signature half-smile playing on his lips. He smells like expensive cologne and danger, a combination that makes my pulse race.

“So,” he says, voice low enough for only me to hear. “How do you feel about giving private basketball lessons?”

I blink. “What?”

“That’s my date request. Teach me your moves.” His eyes dance with amusement. “Unless you’d prefer dinner and dancing?”

The thought of Joel all sweaty and focused on the court sends heat pooling low in my belly. “You want lessons?” I ask skeptically as he nods.

He tries and fails to hide his smile. “News on the street is that you’re the best Coach in town.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Flattery will get you everywhere, and though we both know you do not need basketball lessons, it’s your date to do with as you please. So, basketball it is. Though twenty grand seems steep for a lesson, though.”

“Consider it my Christmas charity. Plus,” his smile turns sharp, “watching Trevor’s face when I outbid him? Priceless.”

“My hero.” I roll my eyes, ignoring how my skin tingles as his hand finds the small of my back. “But just so we’re clear—I don’t go easy on anyone. Even stupidly generous CEOs.”

Joel’s grin turns wicked. “Wouldn’t dream of asking you to, Coach. Game on.”

As we head toward the exit, my phone buzzes with a text from Jasmine.

Jasmine:

You can thank my baby’s timing later. Now go get your man.

A second text follows from Caress.

Caress:

Joel’s been planning to bid on you all week by the way. Don’t mess this up.

I glance at Joel, who’s busy giving instructions to his driver about taking me to the hospital to check on Jasmine and his sister. His hand hasn’t left my back, and each brush of his fingers sends sparks dancing across my skin.

“How’s tomorrow for the session?” Joel asks, turning back to me. “Around noon work? We can maybe even grab lunch after?”

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