It’s a dream I’ve never imagined, a pipe dream. Every kid playing ball dreams of making it big, dreams of hearing their name called to a crowd of thousands but playing for a small school it’s not a dream I would ever believe would come true but it has. Only this dream takes me away from Ten, away from school and into a life of the unknown.
I just found Ten and what we have is new, wonderful and everything to me, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that may not be there in two years.
How do you tell the woman that you’re in love with, the woman who opened her heart to you that you’re going to leave her to become a basketball star? Wait, what? Did I just admit to loving her? Yes, I’m head over ass so deep in love but knowing it just complicates things more.
I see her sitting there, worry marring her delicate face. Her eyes searching, seeking, nibbling on her fingernails. I know when she spots me moving toward her. I see the tension leave her body, breathing a sigh of relief, her warm smile lights up her eyes.
Her smile slowly fades the closer I get. She knows something is off. We’ve spent so much time together the past few weeks that she knows my face better than I do.
When I sit in the seat next to her, she leans to me taking my face in her small hands, “What’s wrong, Baby?” she asks rubbing her thumbs along my cheeks, her eyes soft and worried, “Where have you been? You’ve missed most of the game.”
“I was talking to some of the crew, got lost in conversation,” I lie. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” I say kissing her pink lips. Wiping the stress from my face, I give her a reassuring wink.
Her face brightens, “You were amazing out there, Kohl. Holy crap, I had no idea how talented you are. I mean I knew you were good, you’re good at everything you do, but you were spectacular. Then there was this guy, this guy in a suit behind me that was saying great things about you. I think his name was Mr. Bird? He was asking Paul about you.”
“Yes, I saw you sitting here all gorgeous and wonderful being hit-on by Paul George,” I joke, loving the blush the covers her cheeks. Adoring how she is clueless to what she just experienced. The guys on my team would offer up a testicle to spend time with Paul George but my woman acts like she just met a stranger on a bus. My love for her explodes through my body, knowing all her quirks are mine.
“I didn’t know who he was, to tell you the truth. He was just a huge man talking to me. Then he went out there with you on the court and I Googled who he was. I felt so foolish for not recognizing him.”
“He loved it, Tennie Girl,” I assure her wrapping her hand in mine, kissing her knuckles. “He thought you being clueless was refreshing and hilarious.”
“Are you serious?” she asks, her eyes holding mine.
“Yeah, it’s not often that he gets to talk to someone and not feel like he’s in a fishbowl. You said someone was asking about me?”
“Yes,” she exclaims, “I think he was important. He was wearing an expensive suit and when he mentioned that Paul should be out on the court, Paul referred to him as ‘Sir’ and jumped at his suggestion.”
“Oh my,” I sigh, “You honestly don’t know anything about this sport, do you?” I ask laughing at her innocence.
Shaking her head, I continue, “That was Larry Bird. Huge star of the Boston Celtics back in the 1980’s and 90’s, a member of the Dream Team during the Olympics. You’ve never heard of him?”
“Nope,” she says smiling, popping the ‘p’.
This girl lives in her own world. She sat here within touching distance of two major icons in the sports world and she was just herself. Another one of the many qualities I love about her is that she isn’t superficial. She doesn’t pretend to love something because I do and she doesn’t expect me to love school and books the way she does.
Releasing her hand, I run the back of my fingers along her thigh. All the excitement of the night building in my body. Her cleavage showing at the top of her dress, her eyes darkening when my fingers move along her skin, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips watching my fingers slowly move her dress.
Beautiful is not a strong enough word. She’s breathtaking.
I know she won’t let my hand get too far but I my need for her is too great. I need to reassure myself that if I take the offer to play ball that we will try. I need to know she loves me. I need to feel her come apart on my skin, smell her in the air, taste her on my tongue.
She stops my hand half way up her thigh, “What are doing, Kohl?” she asks, her voice husky and low with want is my tipping point.
“I need you now, Ten. I can’t wait,” I growl grabbing her hand, leading her out of the stadium.
“But the game, Kohl. The game’s almost over.”
“I don’t care about the game. Unless you want me to bury my head under your dress in front of thousands of people, we need to go now,” I insist, dragging her
