The players on Cole’s team erupted. Cole’s face broke into a grin when he saw me. He jogged over, grabbing a towel from the bench, his chest still heaving.
“You see that shot? Tell me you saw that shot.”
I tried to keep a straight face but gave in, smiling up at him. “You think I came all the way down here to watch you miss?”
He was still catching his breath, looking at me like he wanted to grab me and kiss me but knew better with his whole team watching. “Glad you made it.”
A woman appeared beside him, wearing purple shorts and a black tank top soaked through with sweat. She glanced at me, then at Cole.
“Harper Sutton,” she said slowly. “Right?”
I smiled. “That’s me.”
“Freida Banks, Trauma. You here to see this showboat carry this team?”
“Apparently so.”
Banks grinned. “So, this is interesting.”
“Freida, don’t start,” Cole said, but he was smiling.
“I’m just observing that Cole brought a guest to pick-up basketball. Which he has never done in the history of pick-up basketball.”
One of the other players walked over—tall, built like he spent more time in the weight room than most people spent sleeping. He wore black shorts and a white tank top.
“You brought a guest to watch me play?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbling.
“Harper, this is Jackson,” Cole said. “He’s a fellow in plastics. And don’t let his height fool you. He can’t get past me.”
Jackson grinned, showing perfect white teeth. “Cole should worry about not injuring himself trying to jump over me.”
“Well, I’m here to watch his team win, so…”
“Oh, she’s funny.” Jackson elbowed Cole in the ribs. The sound was dull, meaty. “I like her.”
“Ow,” Cole said, flinching. “I told her I dominate this court. Play along.”
“Can’t. This is too good.” Jackson turned to the rest of the players, his voice carrying across the gym. “Vaughn brought a woman to watch him play basketball!”
The entire team stopped. Seven heads turned to stare.
“Are we…seriously? We’re doing this?” Cole glared at Jackson, who grinned, completely unbothered.
“Absolutely,” said Banks. “This is monumental.”
The team erupted in laughter.
“It be your own people,” Cole groaned.
They ran one more game and when it was over, Cole walked back to the bench, his shirt completely soaked now. He grabbed his water bottle and drained it before he sat beside me.
I felt the heat radiating off his body, could smell the salt and sweat. It was erotic to me.
“Verdict?” he asked, panting hard.
“You are, indeed, good with your hands.”
His brows danced, eyes darkening as he leaned closer. “But you already knew that.”
