Page 62 of Love & Streetball

“And what?”

“And I’m with you.”

My attitude weakened a little. “Okay.”

“Say it like you believe it.”

“You’re with me,” I mumbled.

“Only you.”

I looked up at him.

His face was serious now. “Kayla can call, run up, send smoke signals, or hire a damn plane to fly over my house. It ain’t changing shit. I chose you, Slim.”

My heart squeezed. I tried to keep my face hard, but Kane knew me too well. His lips curved into a smirk.

“You smiling.”

“No, I’m not,” I lied.

“You are.”

“Move.”

Kane kissed me before I could push him away. The kiss was slow and soft, and my fingers curled around the front of his windbreaker. There went that feeling again. Heat rushed through me so fast that I forgot we were standing in a mall parking lot. Kane pulled back first, staring at me with heavy eyes.

“Get in the car,” he said.

His voice sounded different.

I swallowed and hurried into the passenger seat.

For the next ten minutes, neither of us said much. Kane drove with both hands on the wheel this time. I kept my eyes out the window, pretending my whole body wasn’t tingling.

When we pulled into a tattoo shop, I sat up.

“You were serious?” I asked.

“You said that’s what you wanted.”

“I thought you were going to try to talk me out of it.”

“You eighteen today. Do you.”

I smiled as I unbuckled my seat belt. “Is it gonna hurt?”

A loud guffaw escaped from Kane’s lips. “It will but depending on the area, it might not be too bad,” he answered, opening his door. I followed his lead, now a little shaken up, but this was my idea and I had to push through to show Kane that I was no punk.

“You don’t have to do this,” he spoke up.

I laughed nervously. “Is my shaking that obvious?”

“Damn near Harlem shaking,” Kane jested.

He opened the shop’s door for me and I walked in, the cool air greeting us before anyone else.

“Welcome to Tatt World,” a Black man covered in tattoos, including his face, called out. “What can we do for y’all today?”