Page 15 of Coming For Her Curves
She tenses, and I nudge her with my shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? I can move if this is too much, too fast. I'm not in any rush..."
I hold my breath waiting for her to make a decision. She blinks at me. “Ry, are you okay knowing all these people are talking about you?"
I brush a stray hair off her face and tuck it behind her ear. The basketball game goes on in front of us, and the crowd is loud, but this is too important to just put off. "They're saying that I'm the luckiest man here to be sitting with you."
She doesn't even smile. If anything, her frown deepens. “No, they're trying to figure out why you'd want to be sitting here with me."
I reach over and put a hand on her thigh. “Stop. You're beautiful, Izzy. If we were alone, I would show you just how beautiful I think you are.” I lean in and whisper into her ear, “There’s no hiding it. Even right now, just sitting beside you affects me in ways I can’t hide."
Her eyes widen, and she glances down to my lap. Even my denim jeans don't hide the growing bulge between my legs. Isabel's cheeks flush a pretty pink, and she taps her hand on my leg. “No, it's probably best if you stay seated."
She looks out to the court. “Brock is in.”
We watch the game, but I can't stop glancing at Isabel. So much time has passed, and we've missed out on so much, but I'm determined that nothing is going to come between us again.
She may not have chosen me twenty years ago, but I'm not giving her an option this time. I have no doubt we're meant to be together.
A man walking up the bleachers catches my eye. It’s the same man that sat next to Izzy at the last ballgame. I was across the court then, but now that I’m right next to her, I’m not going to just sit here and let him think he has a chance because he doesn’t.
He passes in front of us and then sits down next to Isabel.
She tenses but still greets the man. “Hi, Carter."
The man smiles at Isabel. My Izzy. He's obviously interested in her and makes me wonder if the man has a death wish. I lean across Izzy and hold my hand out to him. “Hey there, Carter. I'm Ryker Kirby, it's nice to meet you," I lie.
He doesn't want to, but he puts his hand in mine and shakes it. "Carter," he answers tersely.
I keep a smile on my face. I want to tell him she's mine and to back the fuck up, but I know Izzy wouldn't appreciate me making a scene, so I keep it pleasant. “It's nice to meet you, Carter. I just moved back to Whiskey Run and am going to be around a lot, so any friend of Izzy's is a friend of mine."
Izzy puts a hand on my arm. I'm not sure if she's trying to stop me or what because I'm staring down Carter, making sure he gets my drift. Izzy's hand tightens on my arm. “He scored. Brock scored."
We both stand up, cheering, and when we sit back down, Izzy, slowly slides her hand down my arm and then holds my hand. I search her face, and she smiles at me. Fuck that smile undoes me.
I move our hands to my lap and keep them there the rest of the game.
This just feels right. Sitting here with Izzy by my side, watching Brock play, driving them home after the game—it just all feels like I’m in the exact place I’m supposed to be.
When the game is over and Brock's team won, Izzy and I descend the bleachers hand in hand. I keep waiting for her to let go, but she doesn't.
Not even when the other parents all openly stare at us.
I learn as I'm standing here that parents of the older boys that drive leave after the game. But the parents of the kids that don't drive stick around and chat while they wait for the boys.
A few of the fathers talk to me, and we get into a conversation about baseball. I keep a hold of Izzy, but she seems okay with it. When Brock and his buddies come out of the locker room, I see the instant that Brock sees me holding his mom's hand.
I fist-bump the boys, congratulating them on their win.
On the way home, I listen to mother and son talk about school and the game. I stop and pick up a burger for Brock, and he waits for me to give him the okay for him to eat in my car. When we get to their house, Brock asks me, “Ryker, can I talk to you for a minute?"
I nod even though Izzy tenses next to me. I give her a look, letting her know it's okay.
I get out of the car and first walk Izzy to the door. “I’ll talk to you soon?”
I frame it as a question, but I have no doubt that I’m going to talk to her soon. I’m not backing down from this.
She nods her head. “Yeah, thank you so much for the ride, getting me dinner, and fixing my car and?—”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me, Izz. If anything, I should be thanking you.”
