Torrid Affair(6)

We put our belongings in a locker and headed toward the empty basketball court. Nate threw a small ball at me. “Do you play?” he asked when I caught the ball.

“I’d compare my skills to Kobe Bryant,” I joked, and he raised his brows. “No, I don’t play.”

He motioned for me to throw the ball toward him. “Here’s the deal.” He jumped over to the basket. “You have to jump up and dunk the ball in.” He jumped up and put the ball in the net to demonstrate. “We’ll take turns. For every shot you make, you can ask me something.” He tossed the ball back at me. “Deal?”

Holding the kid-sized red ball in my hand, I ran toward the basket, jumped straight up and dunked it the way he had. “Deal.”

“Impressive.” He cocked his head to the side.

Nate took the ball from me and hopped twenty feet away. He sprinted forward, swept the ball around his body, and dunked it.

“Show off.” I grabbed the ball from where it had rolled on the trampoline. I stood a few feet away from the basket and rested my hand on my hip. “Your question?”

“Where are you from?”

I inhaled and closed my eyes. I hated talking about my life. “Outskirts of Chicago,” I answered quickly and ran toward the basket. I jumped as high I could, kicked open my legs to make my dunk look fancy, and slammed the ball in.

“Okay.” Nate nodded, appreciating my skills.

“You said you’re majoring in architecture. How much longer until you graduate?”

“Four semesters.”

“Oh, so you’re a junior.”

“That’s two questions.”

“Technically, it wasn’t a question.”

“I’ll let it slide on the technicality.”

“Whatever.” I threw the ball at him. “Dunk away.”

Like he had done before, he ran toward the basket and slammed it in. “Favorite movie?”

“Die Hard,” I answered softly, my eyes narrowing at his. I knew there was another question coming.

“The first one?”

I scrunched my nose together and shook my head. “Third, With A Vengeance,” I stated matter-of-factly.

“Yippee ki-yay mother fucker!” Nate said, quoting Bruce Willis.

“My father and I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid.” My father hadn’t been a father in a long time. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I spoke to him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” I nodded my head. “That was three questions, by the way.”

As Nate and I continued to jump around, I learned he’d lived in North Carolina most of his life, had a younger brother, his favorite color was red, and he hated blue cheese.

An hour after we began, we found ourselves sitting at the snack shack. “Is your hair naturally curly?” he asked, brushing a tendril back.

I jerked away and patted my hair down. “I probably look like Medusa right now.” I tried to push down the baby hairs I was sure were sticking out. “But yes, it is. I call it the uncontainable beast.”

“I like it.” His tongue ran across his lips and I couldn’t help but gawk. When Nate noticed my blatant stare I shook my head.

“My roommate jokes at the amount of time I spend getting it to look decent. “

“Do you dorm?” I nodded. “Multiple roommates?”

“No, just one.” I shook my head. “I tried more than one my first semester. It’s cheaper but it was hell. Three girls, one tiny room . . . I’m surprised there wasn’t a murder.”

Nate chuckled. “Nothing a pillow fight couldn’t solve, I’m sure.”

“Yes, in our panties.” I slapped his arm. “Do you live on campus?”

“No. Me and a couple of buddies rent a house on the other side of town.”

The waiter delivered our food and I picked at my cheese fries. “Do you come here often?” I asked before taking a sip of my Coke.

“It’s probably bad to admit it, especially since I’m hoping for more than one date with you, but yes. I come here any chance I can.”

I giggle. “Is there a reason why?”

“It’s like jumping on your bed. As a kid I never got to do that.” His voice lowered an octave. He swallowed and his gaze pulled away from mine. His lips formed a flat line.

“Never?”

There was a spark of some indefinable emotion in his eyes when he met my gaze. “You’re not ready for the ugly truth. Not yet.” A shiver ran up my spine and I knew not to press the subject. I stretched my legs. “Jumping is exhausting.”

“We don’t have to go back in.”

“No.” I shook my head and looked over to the foam pit. “I still need to flip into that.”