Page 32 of The Game

“I’m so sorry.” I pick it back up gently, and flip it over to kiss her palm, trying to soothe the ache I caused.

“It’s fine. Just a little tight.”

“Sorry. Charlene threw me. I should have been more careful with you.”

“I’m not made of glass. Just wasn’t expecting it.”

We make it out of the arena with no further incidents, and I automatically head for the piece of crap car I inherited from Jacks when he left last year. He was reluctant to leave Mabel behind, but he’s probably consoling himself behind the wheel of the brand new Jeep he bought himself with his contract money. Next year can’t come soon enough for me.

I’m pulled to a stop when Jazz halts, and I spin around. “What’s up?”

She’s clutching that coffee tumbler to her chest again. “I should go. I’ve got to catch the bus home.”

“You’re not going to come back to the house? The guys are having a party tonight, and it would be nice to have you there.”

Her lower lip is tucked between her teeth as she nibbles away, and it reminds me of how good she tasted. I shift on my feet, trying to be subtle about easing the tightness in my pants. Don’t want to scare her away. “No. I should get home. Her head swivels around toward the university center.

“That’s fine, but you’re not taking the bus.”

“What?”

“You’re my girlfriend now. I’ll drive you home.”

Her hand flies up to her mouth, so she can nibble on a fingernail. She can’t be as uncomfortable as I am after that kiss. I shift again. Maybe she noticed my situation, but it’s not like I’m going to jump her on the ride home.

“Not your real girlfriend. You don’t have to drive me home.”

“Yes, I do, Coffee Girl. What if your ex is lurking around again?” Rage flares up in my chest when I think about the last time I had words with that asshole. No way is she taking the bus. Not on my watch.

It’s as if she shrinks into herself, elbows pulled tight into her sides, shoulders hunched, and I want to wrap my arms around her to soothe the fear. The fear that I put there like the dumbass I am.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you. I’ll walk you to the bus stop if you’d rather, but I’d really like to drive you home.”

Her shoulders loosen a little as she looks back at me. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Well, I can’t promise it’ll be nice.” I roll my eyes, thinking of my ancient car as she follows me.

I hold out a hand behind me and am rewarded with the warmth of her palm slipping into mine. My pace slows to match hers as we walk through the well-lit parking lot for student athletes.

Mabel looks better than usual when we reach her. All the rust spots and worn paint are not as prominent in the shadow of night. The passenger door lets out a painful squeal as I wrench it open. “But at least I think it’s better than the bus.”

She laughs, slipping under my arm into the well-worn seat with the mysterious stains on it. I’m just happy to have a ride, though. I’ve never had my own car. Couldn’t afford it.

“It’s better than the bus.” She pats the beige dashboard.

“How’d you like the game?” I ask her, doing an extra shoulder check as I pull out of the parking lot. The driver’s side mirror is a bit wonky.

“It was great. I’ve come to some games before with Jordan, but this was the first time I had a person of my own to root for. Made it a bit more exciting.” She gasps. “I mean. Not that you’re mine, but we’re friends now, right?”

I chuckle. I kind of liked hearing her lay claim to me. “It’s fine. Yes, friends. We’re friends. It’s nice for me too. My family lives so far away they never get to come to my games. I liked having you out there cheering me on.” They used to come watch me. At my old school. Thanks to Charlene and Jeremy, that’s no longer a possibility.

“Well, you were amazing. That goal was fire. Had me on the edge of my seat.”

Good to hear. “I think you’re stuck now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you’re my good luck charm. You’re going to have to come out to all my games now.”

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