“I guess we’ll starve then,” he grins. “I can’t cook either. But I have a secret weapon.”
It’s good to know I’m not the only one who struggles with cooking, but I need to know what this secret weapon is. “And, what’s that?”
“My mom lives less than twenty minutes from me. All I have to do is show up at her house for dinner.”
“That’s wrong on so many levels. How are you going to make your mom cook for you?”
“I don’t make her do anything. She’s stubborn as hell, but I’m not going to turn down the offer to go over there for good food.” He grabs the plates before pulling me close to him. “Now, eat. I have a surprise for you.”
“Unless it’s a repeat of last night…I don’t want it.” I snuggle into his side and bask in the feel of being next to him. Of being with a man that doesn’t try to tell me what to do, or how to act. Of a man that has done all he can to prove that I’m the only one he has eyes for.
“That can be arranged.” He mutters into my hair and pokes me playfully in the side. “But no, that’s not it.”
“It’s not nice to poke people,” I grumble. “Why can’t you just tell me now?”
“Because I’m hungry, and if you want a repeat, you’re going to need your strength.”
“Fine.” I may be pouting but so what. I don’t understand what’s so secretive that he can’t spill the beans while we eat. I grab the plate off his lap and take a bite of the burrito. It’s already lost some of its heat and the eggs are rubbery, but if he wants me to eat, then I will. After swallowing, I put the burrito down. “There, I ate. Now, tell me.”
“Fine. Since you’re so impatient.” That last part is barely audible, but I still make it out. “I got you, and Lana, front row tickets to the game tonight. You said you’ve never been to a game, and I want you there.”
Holy crap. That had to have been insanely expensive. I’m sure he has perks when they are playing in their home stadium, but I’m not sure how that works when they travel. “Bentley, that’s too much.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” he taps me on the nose. “All that matters to me is that you get to experience the game up close and personal. Just be on the lookout because there are times the ball, or players, will end up in that area.”
“Soooo, you’re putting me in harm's way.” I side-eye him. Unsure if that’s the best decision. Maybe we would be better higher up.
“It doesn’t happen often. I only wanted to give you a heads up to not freak out. Most of the players try their best to avoid it at all costs.”
“That’s good to know,” I mutter. “What does one wear to a basketball game?”
“Clothes, usually.” He narrowly dodges my elbow to his ribs. “Just jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy. Well, except I also have a jersey for you.”
My heart flutters in my chest. It might not mean anything, but in my mind it’s him showing the world that he’s with me. I know that’s ridiculous because other people will undoubtedly be wearing one with his name on it, but it doesn’t stop me from hoping that’s the case. It’s safe to say that I’ve one hundred percent fallen off the deep end with him. “Where is it?”
“It’s at the hotel,” he chuckles. “Lana will pick you up and then meet Jordan’s wife there before heading to the game.”
“Do I get a say in any of this?”
“Not really.” He picks up the plates of nearly untouched frozen burritos and puts them on the nightstand. “I already cleared it with Lana. I didn’t want you to go alone and feel out of your element.”
He may be a badass on the court and in bed, but he really does have a sweet side. Not many men would think about that stuff. Yep, I’m totally a goner. “Since the plan was already made without my input, I know a way you can make it up to me…”
I let the sentence trail off, hoping he gets the hint. An eyebrow raise is the only response. Fine, it looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. I push the blanket off and straddle him...I can seduce him just as much as he does me.
Twenty-One
Bentley
As happy asI thought I was flitting from woman to woman, nothing compares to being with Jolene. Well…almost. Seeing her in the front row, wearing my jersey, is pretty damn amazing.
She looks like she’s having a good time. At least, from what I can tell when I glance over. I wish I could be on the sideline with her, explaining the game as the plays happen. But I’m right here, on the court, where I belong. Hell, I’m not even sure what I would do if I wasn’t playing ball. I only know it would revolve around sports somehow.
“Yo, Bentley,” Jordan smacks my arm. The sounds of the game come flooding back in. The people in the stands yelling and cheering for their teams. “Get your head in the game. We aren’t ahead enough for you to be giving puppy dog eyes to your girl.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I huff. “I don’t give that look to anyone.” Except I am. And now I feel like a hypocrite after giving Derrick hell while I was still at Hilltown U.
“Dude, I know that look,” he glances over at the woman who has made me want to give relationships an actual shot. “It’s the look I still give my wife.”