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Guys like sports, right?
“He told you about Maria?” Millie asks, her shock evident.
“Yeah, how awful! No wonder he’s not interested in loving anyone ever again. I can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same way if I’d been through something like that.” I take a healthy gulp of my margarita and slouch back in my seat with a sigh. Millie and I had moved our debriefing to the local Mexican restaurant. We were lured here with the promise of Happy Hour priced drinks, and they did not disappoint. Millie and I both ordered their jumbo sized, lime for her and mango for me, and settled in to go over last night’s date.
She’s silent for long enough that I look up from my drink. Millie’s watching me with a questioning gaze, but she hasn’t said anything yet.
I try to be patient as she works through whatever it is she wants to say, but patience is not a virtue I have. “What is it?”
“He doesn’t ever talk about Maria. I guess I’m just surprised. He’s usually all but a closed book. That’s why I was worried about this.” She sweeps her hand toward me.
“Am I the ‘this’ in this scenario?” I ask, lips tilting in a slight smile.
Millie rushes to reassure me. “No. No, that’s not what I meant. I meant this as in the deal you’ve got going on. I was worried about this not working because I know how adamantly against all things love he is. But it’s huge that he told you about her. He hasn’t so much as said her name in years.” Millie’s eyes soften as she talks about her brother, and I squeeze my hand together in a fist as I remember the details he had given me.
“I can’t believe you never told me that story before,” I say.
“It was so long ago. And then he left, and any mention of Maria seemed to crush him that much more. I guess we all just got used to not talking about her anymore.”
Guilt stabs through me as I start to rethink this entire plan. “Millie, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
She flattens her lips together wryly as she deliberates. “I know. But he smiles around you, Charley. I haven’t seen him smile in so long I almost forgot he was capable of it. He’s been shrouded in sorrow for so long that it’s nice seeing him open up to you. But just be careful. I don’t want you getting your heart broken either.”
“Well, as he promised it was a perfectly platonic date. Not so much as a token good night kiss when he dropped me at my door.” I can’t help but wonder if I’m fooling myself to think he will ever be capable of putting himself out there again.
Millie ponders on this while she sips on her margarita. Finally, she says, “I think this is good. The fact that he’s willing to open up to you already.”
“He shut down right after. Understandably after reliving his trauma. I think he needs a friend more than anything else right now. Maybe we should just call this whole plan off?” I ask as my mind replays his shattered expression over and over again.
“I don’t think so. You’ve already gotten further than I thought. If he’s willing to open up to you about what he’s been through, that’s huge. This could actually work.” She’s nodding to herself, as if answering a question that she didn’t voice aloud. “Okay, so what’s the plan for the next date? Four left, right?”
I dip a tortilla chip into the delicious bowl of queso cheese and do my best to keep my thoughts from wandering back to the last time I was here. I’m careful to chew and swallow the entire chip before I respond to Millie. “Yes, and I have some ideas for the next one, but I’m not sure.”
For the next date, Millie and I decided on tickets to a sports game. We figured this made sense for a few different reasons. The first one being Millie knew for a fact that Emmett loved basketball and his favorite team just happened to be playing a home game. Not for the first time, I’m thankful for the insider insight Millie can provide. The second one being we would be in close proximity to each other for the entire game. And with how loud it would be, we would be forced to get even closer to have meaningful conversation. And last, but certainly not least, with the loud and crowded surroundings, I would be less likely to mortally embarrass myself somehow. It was still possible, I have a talent after all, but the odds were less. It’s the perfect plan.
“I didn’t figure you for a basketball fan.” Emmett yells so I can hear him over the roaring crowd. Somehow the seats I ordered that seemed so close on my laptop were about a million miles away in person. If I squint, I can almost make out the colors of the jerseys. One team wears a shade of blue, maybe. Or maybe it’s black. Alas, that’s a question without an answer unless a pair of binoculars miraculously appear.
“Oh, yeah. Huge fan.” I nod sagely, trying not to scrunch my nose up at the medley of surrounding scents. Stale sweat, beer, and hot dogs. Not an appetizing combination, I decide.
The corners of his lips twitch at my obvious lie. “Oh, really? Which team are you rooting for?”
“Oh, definitely the,” I try to discreetly examine the players again, “the red team.” My voice is confident as I meet his gaze. “I’m a big fan of red. The color and the team, of course.”
He laughs at my abysmal attempt to lie, and I can’t help but laugh with him. My gig is already up. “Alright, ya got me. I have zero interest in sports. Millie mentioned you loved basketball, so I thought you might like this.” Screams from the crowd have me turning my attention back to the game in front of us momentarily. From this vantage point I have zero hope of catching sight of an actual ball, but based on the players jumping up and down, I can guess someone must have scored. “To be completely honest, I haven’t watched a basketball game since the movie Space Jam.”
“I do enjoy basketball. And you’re in luck.” His husky voice rumbles in my ear, causing me to jump in surprise. Whipping my head back around to him, I notice how close he stands to me. Close enough that the entire left side of my body brushes against his and he doesn’t make any attempt to step back. So, neither do I. At least one part of my plan is working perfectly.
“In luck? How so?”
“Because I’m going to teach you all about it.” And he does. Surprisingly enough, I find myself getting into the game. It’s fun watching Emmett’s face light up as he tries to explain foreign terms to me like ‘double-dribble’ and ‘fast-break’. After a while, I find myself watching him instead of the game. With his thick, dark hair falling down into his eyes and his gorgeous face lighting up with excitement, I can’t help but notice how good-looking he is. Like heart-stutteringly beautiful. I’m close enough now that my fingers itch to reach up and run through his unruly locks to see if his hair is as soft as it appears. To run along his jaw and feel the prickle of his five-o-clock shadow.
I’m so busy watching him I don’t notice anything around us. The noisy crowd, the mingling nauseating scents, the loudspeakers squeaking as a sports reporter narrates every move happening on the court. It all fades into the background as my focus shifts to encompass Emmett. How he looks, cheeks flush with excitement as he watches the action below. How he sounds as he explains each play to me with the utmost patience. How he feels standing so close to me that his warm body bumps into mine.
Not until Emmett turns that blinding smile on to me and gestures to the court do I remember where we are. Grudgingly tearing my gaze away from the perfection that is my date, I see that same, perfect face reflected on a large screen high above us. And there I am. Right next to him.
Maybe I don’t know basketball, but I wouldn’t be a self-respecting romantic if I didn’t know what a kiss cam is. Not sure what to expect, I turn to Emmett. He doesn’t look concerned, though. He’s shrugging and smiling as he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. A friendly, platonic kiss is his intention, I’m sure. But that’s not what I want.
Without taking time to think about it, I turn my face so our lips meet. He freezes for a second. A split second when I'm not sure if I made the right choice or not. Then, like a switch flips inside him, he’s moving his lips against mine with an urgency I can’t help but replicate. I push back against him; his tongue tracing the seam of my lips until I give him what he wants. Opening for him, his tongue spears inside, stroking mine as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer to him. He tastes sweet, and my mind flashes back to the candy he had been snacking on the entire game. Whatever it was, that’s my new favorite sweet treat as I tilt my head to get a better taste and wrap my hands in his glorious hair. My last coherent thought is how right I was about how soft his hair would be. Then I lose myself to him entirely. Forgetting our surroundings as the world narrows to just him and I and this kiss.
