I’m mortified. It’s not like me to cause a scene. I’m always so calm and polite. Except on the basketball court. Then I let my aggression show. Only on the court. Off the court, after a game, before a game, between games… I’m a princess.
But I’ll never be on another basketball court again, and that has caused me to feel aggressive every minute of every hour of every day for a week. I feel myself entering hysteria now. And frankly I don’t give a fuck.
These two giant men flank me as they guide me toward a door on one side of the room. I’m certain this idea of leaving the main floor with them is a bad one, but I’m so embarrassed right now that I’ll do anything to get out of the spotlight.
I don’t even know their names, and I’m confused about why two of them are engaging me. Do they think they’re going to fight over me?Me? Madness. No one fights over me. Granted, I’m too much of a priss off the court for anyone to have even attempted to get close to me.
How would I know if anyone might have thought I was worth fighting over? My life has been head in books, head in hoops, head on my pillow for as long as I can remember.
There was never head on boys or head on men as I got older. I didn’t have time and refused to lose focus. I don’t think I care anymore. So what if two giant men have invited me up to one of their apartments? Maybe tonight is a good night to lose my virginity while I’m recklessly out clubbing and drinking. Except I never made it to the bar, and I’ve only been in the club for a handful of minutes.
These two men are night and day but both sexy as hell. The one holding the door for me is dark-skinned with dark hair and eyes. He towers over me at about seven and a half feet, and that’s sexy in and of itself since very few people tower over me.
The man at my rear is a pale blond with blue eyes. He’s a few inches taller than his friend. I can’t believe I’m having this thought, but I think I might swoon.
As soon as I plant my crutches and swing my body through the door, it shuts behind me. My entire body relaxes irrationally, and I look up to see the blond man smiling. “It was too loud in there, wasn’t it, Little one?”
He’s right. The noise was grating on my nerves. I chuckle, though. “You keep calling me Little. That’s hilarious.”
The darker man snickers. “You are Little, to us.”
I kind of like it. They don’t say it in a tone that’s demeaning. It sounds like an endearment. Maybe they call every woman Little one.
I glance back at the door we just came through. “Thank you. I think.” I try to laugh off my behavior. I don’t go to apartments with men I just met. I don’t even go to apartments with men I’ve known for years. I’ve been acting like someone other than myself for a week, and it seems to have no end.
“Mine or yours?” the blond asks his friend.
We’re in a white hallway, and the blond reaches up to push the button for an elevator. Thank goodness. I was never going to survive stairs.
“Doesn’t matter,” the darker man says.
The elevator opens and the blond stands in the frame to keep it from closing while I swing myself inside. He winces. “Those crutches are hurting your armpits.”
“Yeah. I’m not very good at them yet,” I say.
“How long have you been injured?” the darker man asks as he steps in with us before the door shuts.
I look down. “Longest week of my life,” I murmur.
The dark man strokes my forearm. “I’m sorry. Are you in a lot of pain?”
“No. I’ve been taking painkillers. As long as I don’t bend my leg, it’s not too bad. The brace is keeping me immobile.”
The elevator pings and opens.
The blond blocks it from closing yet again like a total gentleman as I hobble into whoever’s apartment this is. I assume his since he was the one to push the button for this floor.
I gasp as I look around. The room is huge and the furniture is even bigger. It’s made for people the size of these two men. Not regular humans. It’s even kind of large for me, and I tend to dwarf furniture.
The blond rushes toward the couch and pats it. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
By the time I reach the huge sofa, my armpits are screaming. I don’t know why I thought I could go out tonight and not end up in pain all over my body.
“Turn around, Little one,” the darker man says from behind me.
I spin on my one foot to face him.
He bends his knees, grabs my waist, and lifts me off the floor as though I weigh nothing. “You can drop the crutches now.”
