He let go of me before I let go of him. I was shameless. Any opportunity to touch him, I’d take it.
Adam launched himself at the gate until he’d monkeyed up high enough to raise the latch.
“Wait up, champ. You’ll break the gate and they’ll refuse to feed you.”
“What!?” Adam’s feet dropped so fast he lost balance, stumbling back into his older brother. “Really?”
Ben unlatched the lock and the boys and him made their way through to the outdoor eating area. He guided the younger two, teasing them as he led them to their seats. “Yes, about the gate. No, about the food. Of course they’ll feed you. They haven’t booted Stewart out yet and he’s done way worse.”
Tall and broad, way too big for his sixteen years, Ben’s presence alone could have parted the tables even though they were bolted down. Those boys hung on his every word. Chaos churned my insides as Ben threw a grin at me over his shoulder. I was still standing in the play area like an idiot. I scurried out and grabbed a seat two tables away. Leaning on my elbows, I dropped my chin to inspect the scratched tabletop, and prayed for the riot in my gut to stop. I expected Ben to go inside and join the others at the counter, but the chair beside me squeaked as he plonked his weight down.
“You’ve gone quiet. What’s wrong?”
I flicked a glance at his nose, knowing that if I looked him in the eye he might see something I wasn’t ready for him to see. Something I was trying to understand for myself before I admitted it to anyone else. I wouldn’t be admitting it to him, that was for sure.
“Hm? What? No, nothing. I’m just hungry.” I hid my hands under the table. Way to play it cool.
One of Ben’s brows inched up.
Tapping a finger on the edge of my seat, I ignored the weight of his stare. The silence was like a wedgie that you couldn’t get rid of.
I cleared my throat and aimed for casual conversation. “So, are you a league convert yet?”
He scoffed. “Never. I was only helping out a friend.”
“If you hate it so much, why’d you do it?”
“I don’t hate it. I’m just loyal to my code.”
“Plenty of players switch.” I picked my brain trying to remember the names Dad had said at the game. “Like, you know, that guy, The King. What’s his name?”
“Wally Lewis?”
“Yeah, him.” I think. He was the only player I could think of.
“Just ’cause The King switched doesn’t mean I have to.”
“Fair enough.”
Ben stood by his convictions. I liked that. My eyes drifted sideways in a bid for some reprieve from his gaze. Two tables away, the boys were slapping each other’s hands, doing some customised shake thing, and laughing like loons.
“They’re good mates.” Ben’s comment brought me right back to those crystal blues.
“They are.” I tilted my head. “Why are you friends with my brother? Seriously?”
His lips quirked. “Stewart’s all right.”
“He’s different with his friends, I guess.”
He hooked an arm behind his seat, twisting his chest towards me. “I know he can be a dick sometimes. He has a weird way of getting attention. He means well.”
The fact that he was defending my brother endeared him to me even more.
“Do you play any sport?” Ben scratched behind his ear like he was uncomfortable talking about Stewart.
I was happy to change the subject. “I dance.”
“You dance?” His brows rose as he leaned back a little. “Like ballet?”
“God, no. I’m not graceful enough for that. Hip-hop is my thang.”
“Your thang?”
“Yeah. Like this.” I jumped out of my seat and gave him a demo—legs popping, arms locking, all while Nelly Furtado and Timbaland sang about promiscuity in my head.
His mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged out.
Am I that bad? I slid back onto my seat, heat infusing my cheeks.
“You’re good.”
Pulling my shoulders back, I puffed out my chest. “Thank you.”
“No, I really mean that.” He blinked, swallowing.
I relaxed against the back of my chair. Sincerity. Another tick on the list of his good characteristics. I was sure there had to be some negatives.
I already liked so many things about him. His commitment. His discipline. His arse. But if I told him, I’d scare him away. He wouldn’t get it. Not for another few years at least. I wasn’t sure how I knew that either. I just did. The thing was, I didn’t understand how or why it was going to take a few years. And that worried me. What was about to go down that I’d have to wait so damn long to have him by my side?
The air grew so thick, my lungs had trouble dragging it in. I shuffled my butt, fighting against the unbearable tug urging my eyes to connect with his. “It was nice of you to help out the opposition, even though they couldn’t find a uniform that fit you.”
He placed his arms on the table, his elbow bumping mine. It was the final yank in the tug-of-war. My gaze snapped to his crystal blue stare.
A hint of a smirk played on his lips. “It’s no biggie.” Deliberately bumping my elbow again, he set his grin free.
He’s laughing at me! My mouth popped open before clamping shut.
The rest of our group approached through the glass, trays in hand. Their arrival would mean the end of our conversation. Last chance to make an impression. “Yeah, you’re right. Their team lost. You were no help at all. I don’t know why Dad whinged that you’re not a league player. Seriously, you sucked. Stick to what you know, Benji.”
Ben’s grin dropped off his face, and his eyebrows jumped high as he barked a laugh.
Like idiots, we
