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After locking myself in, I rest my head against the door, knowing how screwed I am with Donovan DuPont.
Chapter 17- Donovan
Ipull up to Shorty’s grandmother’s house. After I took her to see her mom, I wanted to ask if she would wear my number at my game, but I realized it wasn’t the best time to ask.
The weather remains steady at fifty-three degrees, an average temp for mid-March. A thin layer of clouds allows a little light to filter through the treetops.
Turning off the ignition, I step out of the car and saunter up the steps holding my jersey in my hands.
Releasing the breath I was holding, I knock twice on the door.
A light flicks on behind the small glass pane on the side of the door. The door swings open and the sight of Shorty takes my breath away. Black leggings that clung to her figure and a white cropped shirt shows off her belly button ring.
She holds open the screen door and leans against the doorframe with a huge smile spread across her face.
A few curly strands flow loosely around her face. I want to reach out, run my hands through her hair, and kiss her endlessly.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I, uh, wanted to ask you something.”
“In person? You couldn’t just send me a text?” She gives me a lopsided grin.
I let out a chuckle rubbing my chin. “Yeah, I guess, but it’s not the same as seeing you in person.”
Her cheeks turn that cute shade of pink when she’s nervous. That must mean I make her nervous.
Interesting.
“Donnie.”
I love the way she says my name. It’s like I’m hypnotized, and I can’t look away.
“Yeah, sorry. I wanted to invite you to my game tomorrow.” My heart pounds against my ribs as I wait for her reply.
“What time?” She licks her lips. My eyes follow the movement. I wonder what she would do if I leaned in and sucked her lower lip.
“Donnie,” she repeats my name with a giggle.
“Right.” I clear my throat. “Seven.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve watched you play.”
Yes, it has.
“Sadie!” her grandmother calls.
Shorty looks over her shoulder at the sound of her grandmother’s voice. She turns to me with a big smile and says, “I’m sorry, I have to go, but I’ll definitely be there.”
“Yeah?” I tried to downplay the excitement in my voice.
“Um-humm.” She nodded, a wide smile painted on her beautiful face.
“Wearing my number?” I hold out my jersey. For a second, she stands still, staring at the jersey as if it might burst into flames.
I exhaled, releasing some of the tension in my body when she takes the jersey.
“I’d love to,” she whispers.
