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“You were excited not two minutes ago, you doofus! Besides, you don’t want to upset the K-clan,” Cassie said. Kyle had four sisters and everyone’s name in his family started with the letter K, hence the moniker. “That simply wouldn’t do. Besides, I bet your dad has dreamed of walking you down the aisle. Don’t take that away from him.”
Aria grinned wickedly at Callie. “Cass is right. Don’t take that away from him. Just take a little bit of his money.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “Fine! I’ll look at fancy dresses. But if you get crazy and the pricing gets outrageous, I’m out. And you will have successfully ruined a day of fun dress shopping.”
Aria laughed. “Deal. So, Cass, what does that mean for you? Are you going to sit here studying all day or are you actually going to let your big brain rest and go shopping with your two best friends? I know size matters and all that –“
“Aria!”
“What? I meant the size of your big brain. Get your mind out of the gutter, smartie pants.” Aria grinned wickedly. “Like I was saying,big brainsmatter forstudying,butfabulousdresses matter forgorgeousweddings. Your books will wait for you.”
Cassie looked at her two best friends, arms linked together, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. But one of you is helping me study when we get back.”
“Whatever you say, Brainiac. Like you need our help anyway,” Aria said, linking her open arm through Cassie’s. “Now let’s forget about becoming the next supreme court justice and concentrate on more important things. Like dress shopping.”
“I quit my pre-law major a long time ago, Aria. Now I’m going to be a teacher. You know this. I swear, sometimes I don’t think you hear a word I say.”
Aria shuddered. “Why anyone would want to be around little kids all day is beyond me. At least as an attorney, you’d get to wear sexy clothes and get paid big bucks to argue with people. No money and getting puked on? No, thanks.”
“I doubt I’ll be puked on, Ar.”
Aria rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Less talking, more shopping. You’re making my brain hurt.”
-------------------------
Jamal heard the annoying chirp of his phone alerting him he needed to get up. With a groan, he stretched as far as he could before rolling over…right into a pair of beautiful hazel eyes framed by long eyelashes and beautiful mocha-colored curls.
“Good morning, sunshine,” the beauty said, her eyes crinkling with a smile that showcased her crater-sized dimples.
“It would be a good morning ifsomeonedidn’t have horrible morning breath! What did you eat last night? It smells like something died in your mouth.” Jamal held a pillow over his face and fanned in the direction of the girl in his bed.
Beauty’s eyes widened and her eyebrows drew together as she frowned.
“What? I’m just trying to keep it real,” Jamal added. “Now get your lazy butt out of bed and go brush those suckers!”
“Daaaaadd! You are such a punk!” Jamal’s eight year old daughter, Jaydence, pulled the pillow out from under her head and whacked him in the face. “My breath doesnotstink and I already brushed them this morning while your lazy butt was in bed!”
Jamal grinned and pulled his daughter in for a hug. Other than basketball, JJ was the only thing that mattered to him.
“Daaaaadd, you’re squishin’ me! You say I stink but your armpits smell like something crawled up adog’sbutt and died!” Jamal let out a laugh. The only person he would let talk to him like that was his wide-eyed, spunky daughter.
“I love you kid.”
“I love you more.”
Planting a kiss to her forehead, Jamal hoisted himself off his bed and with a grimace, walked to the bathroom for a much-needed hot, steaming shower.
“Hey, dad?”
Jamal turned and looked at his daughter, laying in his bed with her kitten pj’s buttoned the wrong way. She was so damn cute and the center of his universe. How he created something so amazing was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to mess it up.
“What is it, short stuff?”
“I told you I’mnotshort, dad! Besides, even if Iwas,” she said, freezing him with a glare, “It don’t matter if I’m short anyway cuz I’m gonna be the next Lauren Chamberlin and softball players don’t hafta be tall. So there.”
“You’re breaking my heart, JJ. Why can’t you want to be the next Peyton Little? I even got you season tickets to all the OU women’s basketball games. Come on, girl! Work with me!” Jamal pretended to stick a knife in his chest and twist. His daughter stood up in his bed, one hand on her hip and the other stuffed into a softball glove.
“Really baby? That glove can detach from your hand, can’t it?”
