Page 9 of Falling for 42
Jackson lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Mikey, I was the one who set them up. Of course I’m fine with it. Mally’s been crushing on Kobe since before his voice dropped. It was about time someone did something about it.”
“Fuck you,” I say with zero heat. Had I seen a photo of Kobe and heard stories about the guy before my balls had dropped, not gonna lie, I would have crushed just as hard when I was thirteen. I feel my ears warm. “You didn’t have to put it like that.”
“Oh, I did,” Jackson says, smirking as he tosses the carrot peel in the trash. “Besides, Kobe’s a good guy. And, uhm... you’ll treat him right.” He blushes faintly. And I get it. This is a little strange. “Just, uh, don’t make it weird at the game, okay? He’s coming to watch basketball, not to make out with you in the stands.”
Mikey cackles. “Yousureabout that? I mean, did you see the way these two looked at each other? We’re gonna be one awkward time-out away from PDA central.”
We weren’t that bad the night we met, were we?
“Can we focus on the real issue here?” I interject. “I need to figure out how to stay after the game. You know, spend some time with him.”
Mikey spins around, pointing a spatula at me like it’s a magic wand. “Fake an injury! Oh! Or pretend you got left behind. Hide from the bus until it leaves. Then leave a whole ‘oh no, look at what I did’ message on the team message board.”
“Yeah, great plan,” I say dryly. “Except Coach Tiller knows I’m terrible at lying, and the team would sell me out in a second.”
“What about the truth?” Jackson suggests. “Just tell Coach you’re staying to see family.”
“Isn’t thattechnicallytrue?” Mikey adds, gesturing with the spatula. “I mean, if you squint real hard, dating yoursecondbest friend’s brother is practically family.” He snorts when Jackson throws a chopped piece of carrot at him. “It’ll be like a Hallmark movie, but with more tattoos.”
I laugh despite myself. “Right. Because Coach is totally going to buythatlogic. Look, I just need something simple, believable, and not obviously related to Kobe.”
Jackson shrugs. “Tell him you’ve got a family dinner. He doesn’t need to know it’s a very… cozy dinner for two.”
I nod slowly. “Okay, that might work. And worst-case scenario, I just own up and hope he’s cool about it.”
“You’re learning,” Mikey says, flipping the chicken sizzling in the pan. “Now, what’s the plan once you’re with lover boy?” We both ignore Jackson’s wrinkled nose as Mikey continues, “Romantic dinner? Long walk on the beach?”
“I’m pretty sure Kobe’s busiest days at the shop are weekends,” I say. “So, I’ll probably just hang out there and watch him work. Maybe he can even start on the tattoo design he drew for me.”
Mikey smirks. “Ah, the ol’‘Oh, I’ll just casually hang around while you’re tattooing me’move. Very smooth.”
“Shut up,” I say, but I can’t help grinning. I’m also hella relieved they’re focusing on Saturday and not all of my wicked, dirty plans I have for Kobe on Friday night.
Jackson points the knife he’s holding at me, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Just don’t get so lost in staring at him that you flinch during the tattoo. You don’t want to end up with, like,‘I heart Mom’spelled wrong or something.”
Mikey cracks up. “Or worse—‘Kobe’ tattooed somewhere real obvious. That’d be a fun conversation at practice.”
I throw the other oven mitt at Mikey. “You guys are the worst.”
“Yeah, but we’re helping,” Mikey says, flipping the food in the pan with flair. “Now go text your man. Dinner’s almost ready, and you need to be at peak performance when you see him again. That means eating something other than takeout for once.”
I don’t argue. Nor do I challenge the “your man” comment, though Kobe is far from that. I’m not completely naive in all things crushes and hookups. But that doesn’t mean he won’t be with time.
I pull out my phone and send Kobe a quick text.
Me: Coach should let me stay after the game. Can’t wait to see you. Think we can make time for the tattoo too?
What I don’t add or make clear is where I’ll preferably be staying overnight. His reply is almost immediate.
Kobe: For you? Always. I’ll make it happen.
Yeah, I’m a goner. How can I not be when Kobe responds like that?
CHAPTER 7
KOBE
Coach Tiller hasthe look of a man who doesn’t buy into bullshit. Surprisingly, he’s also covered in ink. Last time I took in a game, to be honest, I paid the man no mind at all—my focus was too intent on Malik and the fact that I was wearing his number for that.
