Page 58 of Mine

Quentin leaned even closer, with his mouth hovering right above hers.

“Or you an Indian princess,” he continued.

When his mouth sank into hers, Phoebe purred, “Or you an Indian prince...”

The spark started in their ears then tinkered down their face, and mouth, covering their body entirely. A guttural growl fled from Quentin, and a soft moan skittered from Phoebe.

Their mouths meshed with a twinge of energy, and Phoebe shuddered again. Quentin couldn’t be certain the vibration wasn’t because she was cold, so even though he could stand their kissing her all night, he slowly pulled away.

“Let’s go.” Quentin grabbed her hand, and they began strolling inside the establishment.

“Wait,” Phoebe said. “Did you bring me here to watch the game?”

“I was hoping you might enjoy the game with me, but I know you’re not into that, so it’s cool.”

“If you have tickets, then I want to go.”

Quentin turned full circle to her. “If we go to the game, we can’t eat here, or we’ll miss most of it.”

“Well they have a hotdog stand or something, don’t they?”

Quentin chuckled, amused that Phoebe would be such a team player that she would eat hot dogs from the concession stand.

“Okay, since you insist.”

Phoebe pursed her lips. As if he didn’t want to go to the game in the first place.

“Ha ha, you are so funny,” she said.

“I thought so, too.”

Quentin drew Phoebe in, tucking her shoulder underneath his arms as he slipped his around her. In sync they left the hidden area of the restaurants and lounges coming to a set of double doors where two security guards stood.

“Good evening,” the security chimed. “You are more than welcome to venture through this door, but once you do, you’ll be in the mix with everyone else here to see the game.”

Quentin glanced down at Phoebe.

“Surely, if Lupe Fiasco or any other celebrity can sit at the game with no security, we can, too,” Phoebe said.

“We shall see,” Quentin nodded, and the security stood to the side and opened the doors.

Quentin and Phoebe strolled through, running right into a pack of Chicago Bulls fans. They meandered about, and so far, no one had noticed the elite couple. They made their way to a concession stand and Phoebe paused.

“Wait,” she said. “Which one of us do you think is more popular?”

Quentin raised a brow, but Phoebe waved him off. “Never mind it’s definitely you. So, let me grab our hotdogs, and we can possibly make it to our seats without disrupt.”

“Hold on, how do you figure I’m more popular? You have a whole family enterprise behind your name.”

“Yeah, but you’re a man, and fine at that, women are thirsty, they’ll notice your face long before they notice mine.”

Quentin laughed. “You’re serious?”

Phoebe straightened her face to show her sincerity. Quentin could understand Phoebe’s point, but he still didn’t like standing by the side while she stood in line.

“Eden!”

Quentin and Phoebe whipped around to find a rather large, tall woman running toward them. In her hand was a bag of popcorn, and more than enough hotdogs to feed a family.

---