He scoffs. “She’d be a fool not to give in to you. You’re the best guy I know. But don’t let it get in the way of the game. You’re too close to breaking the all-time school record for touchdown passes. It stands at 88.” I nod, I don’t plan on Amaya standing between me and the game. I’m going to demolish the record. “Okay, good talk, if Keith keeps up with this shit, let me know. I’ll make sure he gets in line. I won’t tolerate him making a fool of the program.”
I laugh. “Sounds good, Coach.”
I leave the office, catch a quick shower, grab my bag, throwing it over my shoulder, and jog out of gym. I don’t want to be late, or Amaya will have my balls.
“Where you going off to so fast?” Big Tex calls from the parking lot.
“Gotta go see my Twinkle Toes!” I shout back.
The guys laugh, and I can hear Keith freaking out and glass shattering. I look back and see that he punched out his driver’s side window on his car. What a fucking idiot. At least he had the brains to use his non-throwing hand.
I send a quick text to Coach letting him know what Keith just did so he can check the hand out. He’s lucky we’re only in training right now, otherwise his ass would be benched for two games.
I brush him off and head to the dance center. My girl’s waiting for me. She just doesn’t know it yet.
I head over to the center and Amaya isn’t here. I pull my phone from my bag and double check the time. Shit, I’m on time. Where is she?
I’ve had her number but never thought of using it until now. I fire off a text.
King: Hey, It’s King. Did I screw up the time?
Twinkle Toes: Coming up the stairs now. I have a surprise for you.
I’m about to shoot off another text when she walks in stealing the air from my lungs. Her hair is braided and laying over her left shoulder. I want to pull her in close by that braid and kiss her. She isn’t dressed for dancing, wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans and a tight fitting, low cut shirt, hinting at her ample and sinful cleavage.
“What’s this surprise?”
“I’m taking you to a show.” She is beaming as she flashes two tickets, waving them around.
“The theater? Do I look like the kinda guy that does the theater?”
“Yup!” She pops the P, smacking the tickets into my chest.
Fuck. “Should I change?” I’m not exactly dressed for anything fancy in my jersey shorts and muscle shirt.
Her eyes travel my body with a flirty gleam. Her lips lift into a playful smile. “Can I dress you?”
“I’ll be your Ken, if you agree to have dinner with me afterwards.”
“Have you been spying on me? How did you know food is my weakness?” She eyes me turning her head to the side.
I rub my hands together. “I didn’t but now that I do...” I trail off looking away with a smile.
“Let’s go. We need to hurry if you’re gonna change.”
I pick my bag up from the floor and follow her out. For having such a tiny butt, it looks damn good in those jeans. We pass a few dancers on the stairs and they blush, giggling, and whispering in my direction. I can hear Amaya muttering a curse under her breath. Is she jealous?
On the sidewalk, I grab her hand and she jerks from my grip. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t hold your hand. As a friend?” I tack on the friend part.
She shakes her hand. “Friends do not hold hands like that.”
“Well, we can change that.” I take her hand again and this time she doesn’t fight me.
Her face goes red as people begin to stare and question, “Who’s that girl on King’s arm?”
She clenches her teeth, and I squeeze her fingers lightly. “You want Keith to believe we?