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“Derrick’s dad. Derrick’s my new friend and his dad is real nice and he’s helping us play better,” Sam answers in one long breath. Calvin places his fork down and crosses his arms. This new information displeases him. Before his mood can get traction, I cut in.
“I’d love for you to come.” My breath comes to a screeching halt when I realize I just used the word ‘love’. The serious expression Calvin was wearing a second ago disappears, replaced by…he looks happy. He looks happy and I get happy, too. This is really bad.
By the time we reach the park the next day, Jason and Derrick Miller are already waiting for us. Standing on the basketball court, stretching, Jason Miller beams a thousand watt smile at me that gives me pause. I sincerely hope he’s not getting any amorous ideas because I am definitely not interested. He’s a great guy and all, but there’s another great guy that has been haunting my dreams every single night, and I need to deal with excising him from my head before I can even consider how I feel about dating again.
“Wanna play two on two today?” Jason asks with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Groan. That better not be what I think it is…blatant male sexual interest.
I glance at Sam, who nods. “Sure,” I answer with a tight lipped smile. I’m warming up when I hear the bling of an incoming text.
Where are you?
It’s from Cal. Why do people forget simple manners when they’re texting? I text back.
At the park. Oh hey, how are you? Having a good day, Shrek?
A second later.
Shrek? What park?
Hmmm. My fingers fly across the screen.
The one off Hillside Ave.
Ten minutes later I spot the Range Rover pulling into the parking lot. Da heck…
Rendered mute by the sight of the big guy jogging toward us in his workout gear, all I can do is stare. As usual, he draws all the attention; everybody at the busy park is suddenly elbowing the person next to them and gawking. Calvin stops less than a foot from me, his expression neutral. I don’t have a clue what to expect. His gaze moves between my lips and eyes, and a prickle of discomfort crawls over my skin. It’s clear we are an item of intense interest and it sets me on edge. Then he turns to Jason, who’s staring back at us in total confusion, and says, “Sup,” accompanied by a short nod.
Sup? “What are you doing here?” I do my best to contain the smile that’s threatening to spread across my face. And then the s-h-i-t hits the fan because he swoops down and smacks a kiss on my lips.
Huh? I might as well have stepped in front of a freight train because, at present, it definitely feels like I just got hit by one. Stiff as corpse, I don’t move a muscle while Calvin extends a hand at Jason and hooks a heavy arm around my shoulders like it’s been living there its whole life.
“Calvin Shaw, Sam’s uncle.” It takes Jason a second to snap out of his confusion but who can blame him––it’ll take me a heck of a lot longer. I glance briefly at Sam and find him grinning at me, grinning.
“Jason Miller, Derrick’s dad.”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Now Jason is fangirling. Calvin shakes Derrick’s hand and Derrick gives him a shy little smile in return.
“Do you like football, Derrick?”
Although he keeps smiling, Derrick’s timid gaze falls to the rock he’s nudging with his toe.
“Whata ya say, Derrick,” Jason gently prods.
Derrick nods, and Calvin adds, “Would you like to come to a home game this season as my guest?”
Oh Jeez, the bright excited look on Derrick’s face feels like a punch to the sternum. I rub the ache.
“I have your jersey,” Derrick softly says and Calvin smiles.
Slay me now.
Thirty minutes later, Calvin is exchanging numbers with Special Agent Jason Miller of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s New York office, some serious man love developing between him and the dude that kissed me. The four males ended up playing while I bit my lip and wrung my hands in a state of high anxiety that one of them would end up in the emergency room.
Calvin drapes his arm over my shoulder while he says his goodbyes and Jason’s gaze goes straight to the hand hanging loosely over my breast. Instantly, my face goes up in flames. All this touching is making me crazy. I’m constantly wavering between turned on, craving it, and complete embarrassment. On the way back to the cars, I decide to get to the bottom of this strange new behavior.
“What’s with the moves, Don Juan?” I whisper.
“Doing my part to sell this thing. Don’t look so disgusted.”
“I’m not disgusted!” I’m shouting. I’m shouting, emphatically disputing that his kisses do not gross me out. The smile flirting at the corners of Cal’s lips tells me I am a class A sucker. Time for a change of topic.
