I’m lightheaded from the kiss, the sun and the rapid changes in our dynamic, so it’s hard for me to form words. Pretty sure I’m just staring at her like an idiot.
“That was…not…” Avery makes eye contact again, and I see she’s actually flustered.
“Not what?” I ask.
She blinks twice. “It was good kissing practice, is all. In case we need to.”
Huh?My brain can’t process where she’s going.
She must catch my confusion because she explains again. “We might need to kiss sometime when we’re out in public. That was practice.”
Okay, now I know what she’s trying to say, but no. “I call bullshit.”
“What?” The lack of confidence on her face is very un–Avery like.
“You kissed me because you wanted to. You’d never do it for ‘practice’ without a conversation. You already said it was off-limits.”
Her face twists a little, and she sighs. “Okay, yeah, it wasn’t practice.”
There’s a lot of ways to play this, but I decide to keep things light. “It’s okay to want to kiss me, Avery. I’m awesome at it.”
She lets out a small laugh. “It seems like you are.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
Her eyes dip to the ground, and she crosses her arms. “It’s just hard, you know, not being able to be with anyone else and you”—she gestures toward my body—“looking like that.”
I let her confession settle. Fuck, it’s hard to know how to respond. I mean, I had a clue she was attracted to me, and I’m obviously into her.
That’s all this is—physical. Right? I’m not going to make any assumptions.
“But you have your ‘no athletes’ rule…”
“Yeah, I do.”
I chew on my lip. That fucking rule of hers. I get it, but like, can’tanyguy be a d-bag? Why pick on us athletes?
“I made this awkward. Fuck.” She says it like she’s talking to herself more than me.
Suddenly, a gust of wind hits the court. It’s odd, because there’s not a cloud in the sky, but Florida’s weather is weird that way.
Our ball, which is resting about ten feet away, starts to move, seemingly pushed by the gust. It rolls, and rolls, and rolls…until it hits the tip of my shoes.
And when I feel it knock against my feet, an idea shoots to my head.
“How about this?” I pick it up and start to juggle it in my hands. “We’re about twelve feet from the basket, yes?”
“Yeah.” She looks curious about where I’m leading.
“I would say I have a fifty-fifty shot of making a jumper from here based on my skills, or lack there of.”
She gives a small chuckle. “That’s generous based on today.”
“Fair. I’m bricking a ton. But even better. It’s the universe deciding, not my talents.”
“Deciding what?”
“Let’s make a wager. If I miss this shot, we can forget the kiss happened, if you prefer. Never talk about it again.”
