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“Booty.” Yaritza raised an eyebrow. “Huh.”
There were a lot of assumptions packed into that syllable, emphasized when she looked between us and bit back a smile. Why did everyone thing Booty was some kind of sexy nickname?
“Can you just help us?” I demanded. “For real. We’re drowning. It’s my job to get beat to the ground by four other dudes my size on a regular basis, and you know what? Those little-ass kids owned my ass more than any game no matter how bad. Even the time I played with a broken wrist.”
“Did you?” Yaritza cocked her head. “Impressive.”
Oh. Lovely. All it took was an injury story to get a smile out of her. Or a somewhat warm smirk.
“Please?” Simeon asked, smiling. “Come on.”
She cracked. “Fine. This is my advice to you—split your time half in and half out. Two hours in the Center working on . . . I don’t know, let’s call it sports theory and sportsmanship because that’s what we’re pushing for. Break it up into three or four activities so the kids don’t get bored. I warn you, their attention spans are short and games get stale real fast. For the second half of the day, you take the kids out to the high school’s field and do your thing.” Yaritza looked between us. “Sound good?”
I made a seesaw motion with my hand.
“Yes, ma’am,” Simeon said. “Thank you.”
“And I’ll check in instead of throwing you out there to sink or swim.”
“Thank the sweet Lord,” he added, like a good little church boy. “You are a wonderful woman, Ms. Yaritza.”
She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t help a laugh. “You guys are out of control, but sweet. Even you,” she said, nodding at me. “I honestly didn’t know what to expect from you guys, so I was being hard on purpose, but . . . this is a nice surprise.”
“I’m glad one of us had a nice day,” I muttered.
Yaritza patted my arm. She didn’t even squeeze my bicep or do anything remotely flirtatious. I was losing my touch. Either that, or sulking detracted from the dimples. “Tomorrow will be a better day as long as we all work together,” she said.
We returned to the rec room to finish cleaning up, and I had to marvel at where I was supposed to be right now versus where I actually was.
“This is some freeze-fried bullshit,” I said. “I mean, I really could just blow this off, but Casey is my boy and that would be cold. Also, the media would say I’m a big bitch who couldn’t handle it, and that is just not true. I can handle anything. I could be locked in a room with your ass for two months and it’d be better than this shit. I feel like writing apology letters to every teacher who ever had to deal with me.”
Simeon’s mouth tugged up before he flattened it into a scowl. He was trying hard to maintain his dislike, but it didn’t come naturally. I was too damn likeable.
“Look,” I said, forcing seriousness into my tone. “All jokes aside, we need to have a come-to-Jesus if we’re going to make this thing work.”
“Tell yourself that, boo. I know how to be professional.”
“Yeah, you know how to flirt with our supervisor and be all sweet, but even those little-ass kids could tell you can’t stand me. If those pretty eyes of yours were lasers, they’d always be set to stun.”
I was trying to get him with flattery, and he knew it because that was his MO. But even so, there was a moment when he faltered. A widening of his eyes, parting of those full lips, and the faintest of sharp inhales.
“Oh, come on,” I drawled, loping over to him with a wolfish smile. “Don’t get all shy now.”
“I’m not,” he said quickly. “Your flattery is as effective on me as your dimples. Not at all.”
“Oh yeah?” I stopped walking when I was right in his personal space. Watching, waiting, and kind of wanting him to sweat. “My dimples work on everyone. One smile and panties fall at my feet.”
“Smile? Heh. I don’t expend that many calories to get my fuck on. All it takes is one look.”
“One look,” I repeated.
“Yup. A single glance across the bar and a guy knows I want their pants around their ankles . . .” There was a pause, just a breath, and a wicked glint passed over Simeon’s eyes. “And their dicks in my mouth.”
Holy shit.
“Nervous yet, straight boy?”
Holy shit.
“Struck dumb?” He tapped the side of my head. “Everything okay in there?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just shocked you came right out and said it like that.”
“Why? Is it a secret that you like going down on women?”
“Uh. No. Besides my mom’s cooking, it’s my favorite mea—”
Simeon covered my mouth with his hand, cringing, and I couldn’t help laughing. Loud, unabashed, unfiltered, guffaws that had my lips brushing against his palm as my eyes teared. He jerked his hand away, but not before grazing my lips with the tips of his fingers.
