He glances over at me. “What? This?” he asks, doing the exact move that has me amazed. I smile and nod and he does it a few more times just to show off. I laugh as he strides toward me. “I’m just that fucking good.”
“Ha. Ha. I bet you spent hours upon hours practicing that and I’m sure you caught yourself in the balls a few times too.”
A devilish grin spreads over his face and he turns and launches the balls toward the hoop. They fly in a perfect arc, one after the other and shoot through the basket with skilled ease. “Admit it,” he says, turning back to me and dropping down onto the grass beside me. “You like the way I handle my balls.”
“Oh, definitely,” I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Seeing you playing with your balls day in and day out just gets me so hot.”
At my smartass comments, he grabs hold of my arms and hoists me up onto his lap. My legs fall on either side of his until we’re face to face and I take the opportunity to kiss him deeply, loving the feel of his lips on mine.
I pull back to find his curious eyes on mine. “You saw me dominate during that game, right?”
“Uh-huh. You kicked their asses,” I tell him proudly.
He nods, not denying it one bit. “You know, I saw a few things during that game too.”
“Really, now?” I question, my eyes lighting up as I know the exact few things that he’s talking about.
His eyes narrow on mine and the curiosity pours out of him in waves. “So, do you make habits of hugging random strangers at basketball games, or do you know my mom and I’ve missed something?”
“I know your mom,” I tell him before amending myself. “Well, sort of.”
“Okaaay,” he says slowly. “You’re going to have to help me out here because I’m pretty fucking sure I never introduced you. Actually, I’m positive I didn’t.”
I smile wide, curling my arms around his neck. “Your mom was my mom’s best friend in high school. They went to Aston Creek High together.”
“Holy shit,” he gasps, wide-eyed, clutching onto my waist. “Your mom was Chelle?” I nod and he carries on. “How the fuck didn’t I put that together? Mom always talks about her best friend who passed away years ago and had two kids but she must have sugar-coated it so I wouldn’t know just how horrible it was.”
I nod. I know I haven’t really gotten to know Daniella much but protecting her kids from the ugliness of the world sure seems like something she’d do. “I met your mom when I was sneaking out of here on Sunday morning,” I say, making him cringe as he realizes his mom knew he had me in his room all night. “Well really, I actually met her when I was a kid, probably you too as well.”
Slade goes far away and I study his face, wondering what the hell happened when he grins back at me. “I think mom has a photo of us as kids. Well, at least, I think it’s us.”
“Seriously?” I ask, grabbing his head and making sure he can’t look away.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’ll have a look in the morning. I’m sure mom might have a few things of your mom’s. I’ll have to check and ask where she keeps it all.”
My eyes fill with tears as the emotions take over and Slade instantly crushes his lips to mine. “Don’t cry, Virago. I meant for that to be a happy thing.”
“It is. They’re happy tears,” I tell him.
“Really?” he laughs. “I didn’t take you for the happy tears kind of girl.”
“Shut up. I’m not, but…you know.”
Slade’s fingers come up and brush over my cheek as his eyes soften and gaze into mine. “It’s your mom,” he finishes for me.
I nod. “Yeah…it’s mom.”
He pulls me back into him and after brushing his lips over mine, he leans his forehead against mine. “Was Nessa trying to cause trouble? Just say the word and I’ll handle it. Nessa is my problem, not yours.”
“Believe it or not,” I tell him, watching his facial expressions closely, knowing he’s probably not going to like what I’m about to say. “Nessa is growing on me. She came to tell me that she won’t be a problem for us and I think I believe her. Actually, I think I might even befriend her.”
“What?” he groans. “Her? Fuck, babe. You have really shitty judgment when it comes to friends. Do you not remember the whole catfight thing and the comments she made about your parents?”
“I know, but she was sincere and we talked through all that shit,” I explain. “You know, it takes a big person to come and face me with an apology the way she did. I respect that. She’s feisty and strong, and that makes her my kind of people. Besides, you wouldn’t have kept her around if she was a bad egg.”