The Trouble with Dating Sue (Grover Beach Team #6) (11 page)

I knew my brother was that kind of innocent but, seriously, Sue too? The tight blue top and hip-hugging jeans made me think otherwise. After the red dress from dinner yesterday and now this white blouse that hung loosely, unbuttoned over her top… It did a damn good job of spiking my imagination once again. How in the world did she do this, making me think of things by actually hiding them? That shouldn’t even be possible. Heck, she’d slain the image of a frumpy geek in my mind forever.

With a smirk on my lips, I headed for the door, the two of them following. As I tossed my duffle bag into the trunk of the SUV, Mom offered the car keys to us with an outstretched arm. “Does anyone want to drive?”

I snatched the keys without even waiting for Ethan’s answer. This was as close as I could get to having my own car. He could drive his, but I would drive Mom’s. Period.

The volume low, we listened to some music. With my mother on board, I drove at a leisurely speed. She’d never let me drive again if she knew how fast this car could go without her inside keeping hawk eyes on the speedometer. Halfway to the high school, she shifted in the passenger seat and addressed Sue with a friendly voice. “Susan, darling, how long can you stay out tonight?”

In the rearview mirror, I saw how Sue’s surprised gaze snapped to the front. She leaned forward, her face between my mom’s and mine. “Um…my curfew on weekends is usually midnight.”

“Great!” Mom said and turned fully in her seat to explain, “You know, we have a little tradition on game nights. If the Sharks win, I take my boys out to the St. James Steakhouse in Oceano. If they lose, my boys have to take me out to Burger King in Arroyo Grande. Whichever it is, you’re in for a treat tonight.”

Laughing, Susan accepted the invitation to another dinner with my family before looking at me. “I better cheer for your team tonight, so you and Ethan get a proper meal, huh?” Her tone was light and happy. Friendly, even though she was talking to me.

I cut her a teasing glance. “He and I…and
you
.” There should be tons of opportunities to catch her alone for a minute tonight and make a move. The girl was in for a treat, all right. A Donovan-style treat.

I expected her to lean back then and revel in my brother’s silent company some more, but she totally disconcerted me when she continued staring at my face. After another couple of seconds, I started to grin and demanded, “What?”

“You smell nice.” She sounded like nothing could surprise her more than this. To be fair, it was indeed the last thing I expected to hear from her. Sweet, regardless. It made me chuckle.

“Well, thanks,” I said. When, with another quick sideways glance, I saw her face redden with shock, it was clear that it had been a crazy slip of her tongue more than an actual thought-through compliment.

Mom and Ethan laughed, too, while Sue dropped back into her seat, and our gazes locked in the rearview mirror for a second. What? Were we finally warming up to each other?

“Hey, if I’d known you like Axe, I’d have put some on as well,” Ethan taunted her.

Ah, you can try, dear brother, but the first score with Sue is mine.

Susan was obviously too embarrassed to answer and kept her gaze away from my brother—and away from the rearview mirror, too. Smiling to myself, I took a right turn, then circled the high school in search of a parking spot.

Addison Hayes sat behind the ticket table at the gym’s entrance. She let my family and my guest pass without charging the usual five dollars and fifty cents on a game night. “Thanks,” I told her, sneaking a handful of shelled peanuts from the bowl next to her roll of tickets. Shoving them all in my mouth at once, I led the way down the hall to the locker rooms.

Mom wished me good luck while she squeezed me in a tight embrace. From Ethan, I got a smack on the shoulder. “I want a steak, bro.”

“Done deal,” I assured him, then turned to Sue. It was her turn to wish me luck—maybe with a kiss, if she liked.

But this little piggy just shrugged and grinned at me. “You made us all come and watch you tonight, so you better try not to slip out there on the court.”

So much for encouragement. It coaxed a hearty laugh from me. Picking up my bag from the floor, I swung it over one shoulder and headed into the changing room. We had time for hugs and kisses later—after my team had won.

And I planned to collect.

“READY?” COACH SWANSON barked, adjusting his Dunkin’ Sharks ball cap.

“Ready!” we confirmed as one.

Prowling like caged tigers, we listened to the song blasting from the speakers in the gym and the murmur of people finding their seats in the bleachers. The clock above the door said seven minutes to eight. Seven minutes until we got to prove that we were the best high school team on the West coast. When Tyler met my gaze, he smirked with barely controlled excitement. I waggled my brows in return.

The music outside stopped, and a trumpet and drum fanfare set it. The announcement of our entrance.

“Get ’em, Sharks!” Coach shouted as he opened the doors for us.

Like stampeding horses, we conquered the court, cheering and whistling with the fans, sinking some balls and high-fiving each other. This was our place. Our home. Nothing would stop us today.

Each time one of us made a basket, the Grover Beach High announcer, with a very nasal and irritating voice, yelled our names and numbers so the audience would know who they were cheering for. Tyler did a pirouette when it was his turn, and I poked him in the ribs for it, chuckling along with him as I nicked the ball from him.

My turn. Some dribbling toward the hoop and a perfect throw. The announcer, full of enthusiasm, shouted, “And here, number twenty-one, we have Chris Donovaaaan! With a field goal percentage of an unsurpassable sixty-three percent!”

The audience’s cheers resonated in the arena, putting a wide smile on my face. Ah, what the heck! I bowed to them before jogging back to my friends.

A couple minutes later, a different fanfare played out and we retreated to the sidelines, letting the opposing team roll in and have their moment. Clearwater High had brought their mascot, a lion wearing their colors—blue and white. The crowd followed his cheerleading and gave the team a nice welcome.

Somebody bumped a shoulder against mine. Turning, I saw William Davis with a mischievous smirk on his face. “Who’s the girl with your brother?” he taunted.

It was clear which way this conversation would go. I took a deep breath, cutting a quick glance to the middle section of the bleachers, where my family always sat. Ethan, between the women, stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled when our gazes met. They had come to watch me win. It was all that mattered tonight.

“That’s my mom,” I answered Will with a tight grin. He rolled his eyes, but I didn’t care. I’d come here to play some ball and not discuss who may or may not be gay.

As Coach clapped his hands, we gathered around him. “Tyler, you’ll do the opening jump,” he said. Of course the team captain would get to do that. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it the past twenty times, too. I almost grunted with disappointment but held back.

“Jake, no fouls tonight.” The coach gave him a pointed look, but then he added in a very low voice, “Unless it’s absolutely unavoidable.” He cleared his throat and adjusted his cap as he glanced at Will next. “Team play, Davis. I know you’re one hell of a dunker but, in God’s name, pass the ball.”

William nodded.

“Baker—” Coach looked around. His brows knitted together. “Where the hell is Baker?”

We all glanced around and found Brady leaning casually against the barrier in front of the bleachers, talking to a smiling redhead, whose cheeks blushed to almost the same color as her hair.

“Dude!” I yelled. “Save the flirting for later and come play now.”

He loped over, a wide smirk on his face as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair and shoved the bottom of his white jersey into the top of his green shorts.

“Baker,” Coach snarled again with a pointed look, but then all he did was shake his head and sigh. “Ah, what the heck, just give your best and make me proud, guys!”

As we stormed onto the court, Coach ran a few steps with me. “Don’t show off, Chris! Just play a good game and win this,” he warned before striding off to the side of the court.

Grinning over my shoulder, I called, “I would never!”

T-Rex ran to center court to meet with a blue shirt. The referee tossed the ball in the air and in a spectacular jump, Tyler caught it. My team had possession.

And we put it to good use.

Trevor scored first. Then Brady. Then Trevor again, and I sunk two in a row. In all that time, the blue shirts only scored two points. We were in excellent form tonight.

When Brady passed me the ball next, a lion attacked me from the side. I shot the ball on to Will before tripping and slithering along the floor. Skin chafed against polished wood.
Ouch!
I clamped my jaw in pain. Was that the stench of burnt hair and flesh? I quickly rubbed over my bruised knee, then scrambled to my feet, and headed back into the game.

The first two quarters were over soon enough. Between halves, we all gathered around the water cooler to take a sip. Trevor had sprained his ankle, which I didn’t realize until Coach replaced him with Peter Allister at the beginning of the third quarter. The opposing team changed some players, too.

Will tried to pass me the ball, but a guy the size of Mount Everest suddenly blocked me and easily grabbed the ball out of the air. He wasn’t as speedy as the guy who had been marking me before, but his height evened out that disadvantage perfectly. Brady and Will found themselves blocked by similar giants. The suckers were everywhere. Within minutes, our advance was smashed.

Dammit, I didn’t get to touch the ball once the entire quarter.

Grinding my teeth, I chased even harder after the basketball in the final quarter, quickly taking a new strategy. I jumped, feinted a throw, but kept the ball and passed it sideways in a low toss to another teammate. This way, Brady and I each managed to sink two more baskets.

After checking the countdown on the scoreboard, my nerves were strung taught. Thirteen seconds left, and we were two points ahead. Exhausted, I willed the damn digits to count down faster. We could win if only—

Tyler lost the ball to Clearwater High at that exact moment.

A player on their team maneuvered across the court, evading any white shirt like an incurable disease. He threw the ball. And he scored…just as the final whistle blew.

“Nahhh!” I groaned, glaring up at the ceiling, rubbing my hands over my sweaty face. “This can’t be happening!” But if the cheers of the opposing fans weren’t enough, then certainly a peek between my fingers at the scoreboard proved the ball had gone through the hoop. Two more points.

With a tied score, the referee announced five minutes of overtime. I was dying for some water.

Summoning all my strength, I attacked like a real shark, along with the rest of my team, once more. We scored. They scored. Twice. The five minutes were almost over. “Chris!” Brady called out to me as he passed me, bouncing the ball in front of him. “High—low!”

I nodded. He would feint another toss at Tyler under the basket but actually pass it to me. I was so ready to hit this shot and earn us another five minutes to win the game.

Brady jumped, feinted, tossed, and I caught the ball as it bounced toward me from between Mount Everest’s feet. There was no chance to glance at the time, but I’d learned to read the tension of the crowd. It was downright tangible. There had to be less than ten seconds to play.

Like a derailed engine, I rolled across the court, dribbling the ball at my side. The bright orange hoop practically begged me to sink the ball in its mouth. With a jump shot that put me at eye level with the giants of the other team, I threw the ball.

My aim was good, I knew that. But I never saw if the ball slid through the hoop or not. A striking pain exploded between my shoulder blades. I was tossed forward and landed on my knees. A groan left me, the pain excruciating.

Disoriented, I flexed my neck and back, looking around. Where was the hoop? The ball? Did it go through?
Come on, announcer with the irritating voice. Tell me if I saved the game!

“What an amazing throw, ladies and gentlemen!” the voice I was dying to hear finally cried out. “Twenty-two to twenty-two! Chris Donovan saved his team with a spectacular shot.”

Phew
. That was close. The score of tonight was absurdly low, but at least for now it was even. All right then. Where was the damn ball? Foul shot for me. My aching back said so.

I jogged to the free throw line, and the referee tossed me the ball. A silver whistle between his lips, he nodded at me and then stepped back. Holding the ball tight in my hands, I zeroed in on the basket, sweat dripping from my brow. I let it bounce on the floor twice, and the sound echoed in the silent gym. Exhaling a long breath, I wiped my eyes with the back of my forearm, then gripped the ball again.
I can do this!
I took a small jump and tossed the ball in an elegant arc. The ball dipped into the hoop, triggering a bombastic roar of the crowd.

Done.

It was over. 23-22. The Grover Beach Dunkin’ Sharks were masters of the season.

Hands fisted in the air, I let out a long breath, grinning broadly. The next instant, I was rushed by my teammates. Some clapped me on the shoulders, T-Rex caught me in a bear hug, and then the rest of the guys tackled us. Coach announced his congrats, beaming proudly. We all slammed our hands together in the air, jumping around like little puppies. This was our night. Our victory! And I was ready for a steak.

At the sidelines, Mom waited with Ethan and Sue, their eyes filled with at least eighty-five percent of the joy I was feeling. High on adrenaline, I loped over to them, throwing my arms around my mother without mercy for her outfit or perfect hair.

She laughed, hugging me back. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so,
so
proud of you!” she squealed in my ear. “You played wonderfully!”

“Thanks, Mom.” Smiling, I let her go and draped an arm over Ethan’s shoulders. When I reached out to catch Sue with the other, she swiftly ducked and took a wary step back, fending me off with outstretched arms.

“Nuh-uh!” she chided. But then she started grinning and, with a nod toward the court behind me, said, “That was pretty cool.”

I chanced my luck and leaned in closer, suggesting in a low voice, “How about a kiss for the winning team?”

“Yeah…” She laughed. “I actually think I’d rather kiss that stuffed loser lion over there, thanks.”

“So you have a thing for wild cats? What the hell are you doing with Ethan then?” I teased quietly and smirked.

Playfully, Sue pushed my shoulder, totally getting the hint. I winked at her and hurried away to celebrate with my friends some more before we hit the showers. “Fifteen minutes!” I called back to Mom as I ran.

*

I rubbed my hair dry, tossed the towel on the bench, and pulled on my jeans. The shower had been reviving, but now my stomach was growling in rebellion, and all I could think of was tearing into a steak as thick as the yellow pages in another half hour.

“Good game, guys! See you on Monday,” Trevor called out before he left the changing room, which was still thick with male euphoria twenty minutes after our glorious victory.

“St. James for you tonight?” Tyler asked as he sat next to me on the bench while I tied my shoelaces.

“Yep. Mom’s treat. It’s tradition.” I grinned at him sideways and tied my other tennis shoe. “You celebrating with Becks?”

“Becky and Lauren. The girls want to go to Charlie’s.” He zipped his backpack closed and shut the locker above the bench. “I think Lauren was hoping you’d come, too. She huffed when I mentioned your name earlier, but then she asked if I knew what you were doing after the game.”

“Did she now?” I scratched the back of my neck. “Dammit, I didn’t even see her in the crowd.” Not that I had actually been looking for her. What the hell—I should have. It did mean a lot to me that she came after all.

Or it should have…

“What’s going on between you two anyway?” T-Rex asked.

“Nothing. She’s just a friend. You know that.”

“Yeah. But I was ready to bet a grand on you caving in eventually and us being a quartet soon. Doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.”

Heaving a sigh, I stood and slipped my black hoodie on. Then I shrugged. “Don’t see it happening, no.”

As Tyler shouldered his backpack, pursing his lips, he said, “Someone will be very disappointed about that.”

“Lauren? She knows I’m not interested in a relationship.” It was never up for discussion, from the beginning. “She’s cool with that.”

“Rrrrright.” He cut a glance to the ceiling.

I stuffed all my things into my duffel bag and sent him an annoyed look. “
What?
”

Before he answered, he expelled a long breath. “Dude, either you’re blind or just plain stupid.”

I lifted my brows, prodding him to go on.

“The chick’s
hawt
with a capital H. And she certainly
is
interested. Ever thought that just maybe she was waiting for you to come around and take the next step?” he asked. “I mean, you two are hanging out—what? Three, four days a week? You might as well make it official, man.”