Page 26 of You're All I Need

“Yuck. Shopping.”

She laughs. “I hear ya, but we need to get some meals for this week. Wanna come?”

“Grocery shopping? Not on your life,” I counter, mentally running through the contents of my fridge and pantry.

“Figures. You can come to the basketball games with us if you want. We’ll probably go and watch one of the games. Caden’s nephew plays summer ball, and he’s really good. I don’t know much about it, so you can keep me company while the guys get all into it.”

I shouldn’t even be considering this, especially after the night I just spent with Caden, but I love basketball. It’s my favorite sport to watch, and I used to play in high school. When I lived in Cleveland, I went to a handful of collegiate and professional games, and if I could, supported my former alma mater, Crestview High’s team.

So, why not? Just because it’s Caden’s nephew who’s playing, and he’ll be in attendance shouldn’t matter. We’re friends.

Just friends who have slept together.

We aren’t the first and won’t be the last.

Plus, popcorn is the best concession stand snack there is, and there’s a good chance I’ll get to gorge myself on the buttery goodness until I’m ready to explode.

“All right, I’ll go.”

“Excellent,” she cheers. “Want us to pick you up on our way?”

“No, I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay. I’ll text when we’re finished and heading over,” she says.

“Sounds good. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

I hang up my cell phone and turn my attention to my laundry. I don’t have too much to do, but I need to wash a load of towels and some of my gym clothes. Once the washing machine is loaded, I grab some cheese cubes, salami slices, and green grapes, then head into the living room. I consider finding something on TV to watch but end up starting the e-reader sitting on my end table.

Before I realize it, almost two hours have passed. My plate is empty, the second load of laundry is complete, and I’m neck-deep into a murder mystery that has me second-guessing my thoughts on the killer at every turn. I get up and throw away my paper plate and grab my phone off the counter when it chimes.

Stevie:Heading to the high school gym.

Me:OK. Meet you there.

I run upstairs and slip a large comb through my hair, along with my favorite curl control product. I leave them hanging free, remembering how it felt to have Caden’s fingers tangled in them. A light blush creeps up my neck as memories from very early this morning replay once more. I’m certain I’ll carry them with me for the rest of my life, unable to escape them. His touch has branded my skin. I’ll always feel it, see the scars.

Once I’ve made sure I’m presentable, I grab my backpack and car keys and head for the door. It’s hot outside, with less humidity, and is a welcome reprieve. I fire up the air in my car and back out of my parking spot before it has a chance to cool off. With the windows down, I drive to the high school, anxious.

Is it to hang out with Stevie?

Watch basketball?

See Caden?

Probably all of the above.

I find a parking spot in the very back of the lot and make my way toward the entrance. The sound of balls bouncing on the hardwood makes me smile, and as I pay the five-dollar admission price, I feel myself calming. Basketball was always a release for me, and even though I don’t play anymore, I still feel the love for the game running deep through my veins.

“Hey.”

I turn and find Stevie approaching, a bag of popcorn in her hands. “That’s my next stop,” I tell her, jumping into the line to purchase snacks. Once I’ve secured a bag of popcorn, M&M’s, and a bottle of water, I make my way into the gym with Stevie.

“We’re down here,” she says, pointing to a section of bleachers near the court. We walk along the hardwood, my eyes subtly scanning the crowd. “Caden has to sit in the same seat or it’s bad luck,” Stevie adds with a chuckle.

Everyone has their own superstitions.

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