I let him have his moment, attempting not to seem affected by his nearness. But when he bent down to stretch his hamstrings, leaning one way and then the next, before picking up the ball, intent on shooting a one-handed three-pointer, I’d had enough.
“Nancy!” I growled.
“Oh, too bad you said that. I was just about to put you down.”
“Jake!” I smacked at his back until he finally relented, putting me down gently on the pavement before sprinting across the court, away from me.
He was right to run.
I attempted to put my shirt and shorts back into their place while trying to hide the fact that my face felt blazing under the glow of the court lights.
“I believe it’s tied up now, Shelby May.”
This time, Jake allowed me no space. Everywhere I went, he was there. I moved right, he moved left. Into my space. His legs grazed mine. His hands found my hips. His bare stomachpressed against my back. Though he didn’t lift me or bear hug me again, my heart settled into a constant pounding at his nearness. My body was in a state of jolts and jumps. Maybe I did have a problem with touching people. My self-reflection made it that far before he stole the ball from me, drove to the basket, and sank the winning shot.
“That’s not fair,” I protested as he walked toward me, hands in the air like he was LeBron James and not my scheming friend winning by way of cheap shots.
“What’s not fair?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“You got in my head, and you know it.”
“You called me for help. The more practice you have at games like this, the fewer people get hurt.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. The fact of the matter was that I, Shelby Tucker, a mid-range college basketball player from a small school, had just gotten beat TWICE by two irritating men tonight. And that was something I could not tolerate. I refused to go to bed with those stats chasing me.
“Alright. I can’t do this anymore. We play again to five. Your shirt stays on, and if you try to pick me up, or give me a bear hug, or touch me in any way, it’s an automatic win for me.” My tone changed from diplomatic to slightly deranged as I shoved my finger into his chest. “That includes full bragging rights. And I will make sure everybody in this town knows about my win. Got it?”
A grin stretched across his face as he lifted his hands up in peace. “Got it.”
“Now put your shirt on.”
I waited until he had covered his chest with his shirt. He seemed to be moving in slow motion, letting the shirt drop across his shoulders and down his stomach, and an irritating smile crossed his face. Though I did find him and his know-it-all ways aggravating, the spark was back in Jake’s eyes. And I couldn’t help but think it might have all been worth it.
But sometimes a girl has to take care of business.
“Now toss me the ball,” I demanded.
I killed him.
Five to zero.
It felt good.
The Hot Housewives of Eugene and their husbands…and Briggs
Briggs: I’m bowing out. I’m not man enough for Shelby.
Cade: Was that a fresh shiner I saw on your face this morning?
Briggs: Yeah. She’s fun, but I don’t think it’s supposed to hurt this much.
Logan: Good. Leave her to Jake.
Briggs: Get this. I left my water bottle by the court, but by the time I went back to grab it, they were both there—not really playing basketball, if you know what I mean.
Kelsey: No. We don’t know what you mean. What do you mean?!
Tessa: Tell us everything right now!