Dolce (Love at Center Court #2) (4 page)

“I didn’t know Sonny was going to do what he did, sir,” I’d stupidly answered.

“Well, he did, and you did something to lead him there., so now you’re one hundred percent committed, and one hundred percent focused. Think of it that way. Now, get out and go work out or something. I’m counting on you, Blane. You were my go-to man all last season, and now I’ve got to let you move up to the big dogs after this year. Give me something to remember you by. And close the door on your way out.”

That’s all he’d said, but he was right. I owed the school a championship, and I did agree to an on-air interview with Sonny, so this was all on me.

Shit.

In my head, I could see it. National champions. The NBA. Parties, girls, basketball every day/all day—that would be my life for as long as I was healthy. It was floating in front of my face, and I wanted to reach out and grab it like a three-dimensional movie.

Deep in thought, I almost didn’t hear Ashton yelling, “Dude! Where you going?”

He was leaning out the door of the coffee shop on the edge of campus, wearing a Hafton Ball T-shirt and sweats hanging low on his hips, and AF-1’s on his feet. Pretty sure he didn’t drink coffee or tea, so I knew he must have ulterior motives for being there.

I splowed him up—slapping his hand, then morphing into a handshake—and asked, “What the eff? You becoming an intellectual now? Hanging out in coffeehouses?”

“Can you shut the door?” a smooth voice called out from behind the counter, and when I looked up, I knew why Ash was hanging out there. A tall, blue-eyed, blond drink of water was working the espresso machine. She was model-worthy, and just his type.

“Oh yeah.” He smirked back toward the girl.

Bells tinkled overhead as the door closed behind me, and I found myself being dragged toward a table.

“Sit down, take a load off, brother. Tell me your troubles,” Ashton said.

“Who are you? Oprah? Dr. Phil?” I slapped his shoulder. “What’s her name?” I asked him as he lifted a disposable cup of coffee.

“Who?”

“The blonde who has you drinking coffee all of a sudden.” I cocked my head back toward the counter and tugged off my hood.

“Cappuccino, my good friend, made by Ava herself.”

“Crap, could you have a bigger smile across your ugly mug?” I slapped the table this time, stifling a laugh.

“I love when you talk ghetto, white boy, but let me tell you about this grill.” He swiped his hand in front of his pearly whites, nearly as shiny as his shaved head, and laughed loudly. “This is the money maker, my man.”

Turning serious, he tossed his arm over my shoulders and leaned in. “You’re not letting this Sonny thing get to you, are you? We were kidding last night, you know.”

“Nah, I know you were kidding, and it’s fine. Coach said I have to behave now.”

He laughed again, his coffee long forgotten.

I know he’s not a coffee drinker. Or cappuccino.

“You’ll be discreet, that’s all. You got us to cover for you. We’re not going to let your dick shrivel up and die an early death.”

This time I laughed, hanging my head, my whole chest rumbling. My guffaws traveled the length of the shop, disturbing everyone trying to have a quiet moment.

“Anyway what do you think of Ava?” he asked. “For me, not you, you monk. Apparently, she’s a transfer and a hoops fan. Endless possibilities, my friend. Just like our season.”

He rolled his eyes toward the counter, looking to see if the blonde was watching, and took another sip of his cappuccino.

“God, this is shit,” he whispered to me, and winced as he took another swallow.

This time I slammed my fist into the table. “Knew you weren’t going soft.”

The little bells over the door rang again, and I looked over to find Caterina from the radio station walking in.

“Oh shit!” I yanked my hood back up and stared at our pale purple table as if it were the most fascinating piece of shit I’d ever seen.

Ashton’s gaze zeroed in on Caterina as she made her way toward Ava.

“Damn,” he said, “she’s curvy in all the right places. Wish I liked that type. I like ’em lithe and long like a tiger all stretched out, but that little girl is stacked with curves. Moby would love her. He likes ’em a little bigger; likes to grab and roll.”

“Dude, shut the fuck up,” I barked at him.

Some strange surge of protectiveness came over me. Yeah, I barely knew the chick, but she was all kinds of cool and spunky. I liked the way she swore and wasn’t ashamed to be her clumsy self. Fuck Sonny for backing me into a corner and making me go cold turkey on the ladies. This one was soft and supple, and had a mouth on her. Not in the way most men like to think about a mouth, but still good and sassy.

What’s up with her acting all helpless with Sonny?
I knew he was a cocksucker, but to make her call him some stupid name? And she went along with it? I couldn’t get behind that shit.

Then there was also the tiny fact that she’d witnessed Sonny’s bullshit dare with me.

“What?” Ashton interrupted my private rant, whipping his head around so fast I was concerned he might have whiplash. “You calling that? That’s not your type. I thought you’d be wanting to meet Ava’s roomies.”

Calling that? As if.

The way Caterina had challenged me at the studio proved she wasn’t the woman for me. I did kind of like it, though. No one but my mom had ever done that before. Not even my cousin Gigi, until recently when she started to harp on me about my future.

“No fucking dibs,” I said. “What are we? A bunch of lame chicks sitting in a coffee shop?”

I tried to distract Ashton, but knew it was a lost cause. We were seconds away from him calling attention to the oblivious woman, and then we would relive the entire throw-down with Sonny.

Just what I wanted . . . to be mortified. Again.

“Uh-huh, who’s the girl?” Narrowing his dark eyes, he leaned close and whispered, “Did you go and bang someone already? Not even twenty-four hours after your deal with Sonny?”

“No. Stay out of it, Ashton. She works for Sonny and saw the whole thing.”

“No shit!”

This time he slapped the table. His cappuccino went flying in the air, causing everyone—including Caterina—to turn our way.

Catie

A
fter Intro to Porn, I’d spent an hour in the computer lab writing an essay for English Composition. My stomach growled the whole time, and I quickly realized I needed something to eat and some major caffeine before I finished it and went in to work.

As I headed toward Mean Beans, my favorite coffee place, I decided not to chase down Blane Steele. The night before, I’d been firm in my resolve to make him swear to secrecy, hyped up on Tori Amos and sensually scented shower gel.

Today was a different story. If it got out, it got out. At least I’d be doing a favor to all women who would work with Sebastian later in life. He’d be forced to treat them like legitimate human beings. That was my first step in regaining my confidence and self-control with the class-A asshole.

After I placed my order for a full-fat cappuccino with an extra shot and a cranberry orange scone, there was a huge commotion. The whole place erupted into laughter, and I scanned the cozy interior for the culprits. Seated in the corner were none other than Blane Steele and one of his teammates. Ashton Denube, I was pretty sure.

Yes, I was a fan, but I’d deny it if asked. Women’s studies majors typically weren’t sports fans, but I was. My classmates liked documentaries on saving women and children from HIV in third-world countries, and my sisters watched reality TV and shopped.

Me? I sneaked into sporting events on the weekends, grabbed popcorn, and enjoyed the action. It reminded me of my dad, of his warm hugs and soft eyes. We’d enjoyed many a game together.

Standing a few feet from me was the man who’d dominated my thoughts for the last twenty-four hours. I’d been ready to beg him not to say anything about
Mr. Boots
; then I’d decided to flat-out ignore him.

Now, my pulse twitched in my wrist and my nerves twisted up my spine at the sight of him. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks. Not only because of what he’d witnessed, but because of the way I’d allowed myself to think of him the night before.

Accessible
. Even if it were only for a matter of seconds, I’d allowed myself to dream for a moment—in the shower, no less
—
about what he would be like. To kiss. To date. To sleep with.

A deep voice came from behind me. “Damn, Ava, my girl. I spilled.”

I turned and found myself eye level with Denube’s chest. When I lifted my chin, my eyes met his dark brown ones, and his smile widened.

“Hey there, little lady,” he said with a wink.

“Um, hi.”

“One sec, Ash baby, let me help her,” the barista purred, “and then I’ll get you a new drink.”

Ava
, I presumed.
Oh God.

Then I heard, “Why don’t you let me buy you all a round of coffee, and I’ll take a bottled water?”

Ava turned and her eyes went wide, but clearly not because of me. “You’re Blane Steele!” She clapped her hands. “My roommate, Vicki with an
i
, loves you. She was so depressed this morning after your radio show last night. Oh. My. God. Wait until she hears you were here!”

Oh. My. God. I’m in a reality show. Forget watching one.

Ava apparently forgot all about helping me first, because she grabbed a cold bottle of water and steamed a fresh cappuccino for Denube while rambling on and on about
Vicki with an i
. Apparently Vicki had moved away in middle school, but now the girls had been reunited in college.

“Here you go, Blane, and this one is special for you, Ash.” She continued to preen, radiating sexual energy while I tapped my hand on the counter.

Blane stepped up behind me and dropped a hand on my shoulder. “I think you forgot Caterina’s order.”

We still hadn’t even acknowledged each other, yet he was advocating for my beverage and setting my shirt on fire? I glanced at my shoulder, checking for smoke.

Ava frowned. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you knew her, or were together.”

“When I said I wanted to buy everyone a round of coffee, I meant Caterina here too.”

Still no face-to-face acknowledgment, and I wasn’t going to be the one to turn around.
No fucking way
. The stubborn Italian and Cuban in me would not be the first one to say hello.

Ava grabbed the lever on the espresso machine and put in the grinds, then pumped her arm with gusto. She didn’t take her time pouring in my shots or frothing my milk artistically. Basically, she tossed everything in the cup and shoved it across the counter to me without even making eye contact.

Noting the
K
she’d used when she scribbled my name, I couldn’t resist giving her a jab. “By the way, it’s Caterina with a
C
the next time you need to write my name on my cup.”

As I reached for my beverage, a large hand came around me and picked up the cup.

“Here you go, Caterina with a
C
. Good to see you. Again.”

I turned and looked up at him, since my gaze was even with his chest. “Thank you, Steele.”

He tossed some money on the counter after Ava mumbled the amount. Then she resumed kissing Ashton’s ass.

I picked up my cappuccino and the scone I’d ordered, and felt warm fingers on my lower back.

“Why don’t you sit with us?”

My spine zinged where Blane touched me, a huge red flag. I was entering a no-go zone. I liked the way his large paw felt, and not only was that forbidden for a woman like me, but he was off-limits too. Not my type.

I leaned to the side, slipping away from his hand as I whispered, “As I recall, you’re not supposed to be touching women right now.”

It was my second poor attempt at flirting in as many days. I yearned for him to say he’d rather do nothing other than touch me, or maybe that he’d been thinking about it all night. Like me.

Blane shook his head. “It was just a brotherly touch; friendly, you know? My cousin Gigi would probably call it ‘gentlemanly.’”

“That’s nice to hear, but I have to finish an English essay before work, so I can’t chat. Hope you’re not suffering too much after yesterday,” I added before scurrying away to the other side of the coffee shop.

I wanted to be nice to this guy, to smile and stare at his gorgeous face. After all, he seemed like an ally yesterday when he mentioned Sonny being an intern once. But he had to go with the
brotherly
thing, which was a harsh reminder I would never be who he really wanted to touch on her lower back.

“Listen,” Steele called out as he hustled after me. He slipped into the seat next to me at my table. “I don’t know what I said wrong, but I thought we could be civil. You saw Sonny take me down, and the whole atmosphere at the studio.”

“And by that, you mean the way he demoralizes me on the job?”

I was seething mad he knew, but titillated that he was across from me. I was embarrassed he knew, but turned on with him this close.

All in all, I was confused as all get-out.

This man was doing weird things to me. I’d admired him from afar on the court all last year. His prowess with a basketball made my heart stutter.