I nudged Sterling with my elbow between his ribs. “You should. It’s pretty nice.”
Sterling scowled at me and held his side. “Don’t rub it in!”
“I never thought of you as being shy.”
“I’m not shy. I’ve just never talked to him.”
“I was kind of staring at him for the whole first half of the game,” I admitted.
“So was I. Maybe he’ll come up to me after it’s over.” Even though he said it as a joke, I thought I heard a tinge of longing in my friend’s voice.
Sterling’s seen him around a ton of times, but never talked to him. But the moment he sees me, we’re flirting. That has to mean something.
I kept an eye on the alpha, who was demonstrating the right way to throw a basketball, muscles flexing. I started to ask what Sterling knew about him, what his name was, but Sterling had already moved on to something else.
“I called you over here because I got this invite,” he said.
“What invite?” I asked, momentarily distracted from my observations.
Sterling held up a sheet of paper and handed it over to me. Frowning, I unfolded it and was greeted with an array of royal colors, purple and gold and vibrant blue ribbon designs framing fancy, flowing text in large fonts. I skimmed the information. It was an invitation to a gala event for all volunteers and teachers at the rec center. A date and time were included, as well as the name of the company involved: the Limitless Foundation.
“What’s this for?” I handed the invitation back to Sterling.
“The receptionist has a bunch of them she’s handing out. She didn’t give you one?”
I shook my head. “This is the first time I’ve volunteered here. I don’t think I count?”
Sterling’s face fell. “Really? But it doesn’t spell out any qualifications or anything. It says ‘all’ volunteers. You should come with me.”
“You’re going?”
“There’s going to be free food and drinks. Of course I’m going!”
I had to laugh at that. Sterling was an opportunist, like myself. In fact, that was how we’d met and become friends in the first place. We had both attended a free athletics course at this same rec center and wound up fighting over the last ham-and-cheese sandwich during the free, complimentary lunch. If something was going to be given away or handed to us, we weren’t going to turn it down whether we needed it or not.
“It’ll be fun,” Sterling encouraged. “Food and music and dancing. Tons of people will be there.”
I winced. “Tons?”
I could deal with gatherings if there was a good enough prize involved, but I wasn’t a fan of events, per se. It made me uncomfortable to mingle with rich people, people who had won their way to the top after overcoming trials and tribulations. I’d never done anything worthwhile enough to talk about, so even just going to parties involved a lot of awkward standing around while everyone else bonded.
Did I really have a right to be there anyway, when this was my first time volunteering here? When the only reason I was here was because of Sterling?
“I wouldn’t know how to act.”
“I’ll keep you in check if you help me keep an eye out for hot guys.” Sterling said that in a cajoling, singsong voice.
“Wow, how can I refuse that offer?” I asked sarcastically.
“Great.” He completely ignored my sarcasm, which meant I fell right into his trap. “You won’t regret it.”
The buzzer rang, as deafening as a gunshot because the clock was right over our heads.
Sterling said, “Come on, let’s go! We have to get you back out there so you can watch your favorite player some more.” He dashed away.
My favorite player, whose name I still didn’t know. I never had a chance to ask, either. He left as soon as the game ended, without so much as a backward glance in my direction.
3
Harrison
The gala was now only a few days away, and there was little else to be done. The auction items had been gathered, the venue decorated, and the caterers were raring to go. Everything was exactly as it should be.
By everything, I meant everything except me.
My world seemed to be slowly crumbling, an ancient city shifting on its foundation, losing a brick at a time, unnoticed, until the damage was too far gone to fix. Being busy had kept me from playing in several of the tournament games, which meant I had failed to keep my obligations there. Yes, the rules were flexible for exactly this reason, but I never imagined I would have to make use of that flexibility myself.
Aaron hadn’t even responded to say if he had a date for me.
The board was refusing to see reason and would not compromise with me.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about that referee, the one with the amber eyes that glowed like fire when he looked at me. Our exchange had been short, although long enough for me to get carried away. He’d looked like he’d been enjoying the conversation, true, but what if he hadn’t? What if he was taken and I’d pushed too far, gone from flirtatious to creepy? That was the reason I’d made such a quick exit when the other referee called his name, the reason I hadn’t hung around to chat after the game was over.
I was ashamed of myself.
I hadn’t been intimate with anyone since the accident that put me in this chair twenty years ago -half of my life. Still, that didn’t give me the right to turn into a horndog at the first sign of attraction.
What was it about that referee that stirred my alpha instincts, anyway? What made him so different compared to the other dozens of handsome omegas I’d seen in my lifetime? Or was I becoming different, yet another slow change that had come over me unnoticed?
I put my head in my hands and sighed, my elbows resting on the desk.
I didn’t even know what his name was. The other referee called it out and I had heard, but gyms were noisy places and a shout from a distance was easily garbled.
Kane? Cain? Had I missed a syllable, misheard entirely? If only I knew, I could call the rec center and ask to speak to him so I could apologize; unfortunately, I was just too busy to go in person.
That might be creepy, too.
I had never seen him there before, unlike the other one, who was familiar. He could have been a new volunteer. And I had overstepped my boundaries. Had he come back again or decided he was better off going somewhere else?
So many unanswerable questions I didn’t have time for. Too much going on for me to deal with this.
There was a soft knock on my office door. I jumped, jarred from my thoughts. A sudden desperate need to look as professional as I was supposed to be came over me and I hurried to flatten my mussed hair, straighten my tie. “Come in.”
The door popped open and Charles poked his head in. I forced a smile for him. “What can I do for you?”
“Just wanted to remind you of the meeting in ten minutes,” he said.
“Thank you. I’ll be there.”
Charles nodded and shut the door again. As soon as he was gone, I pressed my hand to my forehead and groaned at my own forgetfulness. Another damned meeting. I couldn’t remember what it was about, why I needed to be there, or if I should have been preparing something for it. I wouldn’t tolerate this level of negligence from an employee, so I would be damned if I was going to set that sort of example. I had to focus. I had to cast aside all the little what-ifs and could-haves in order to make room for the things that would be.
And, I knew, in order to do that, I had to get an answer to the one question which I could ask.
I called Aaron, letting the phone ring while scanning through my meeting notes. Luckily, this upcoming one involved the gala preparations and I was on top of that. No need to worry about seeming lazy.
Aaron picked up on the seventh ring, just when I was about to give up on him ever answering. “Sorry about that, Harrison,” he said, sounding out of breath. “I was finalizing something for you, actually.”
My heart slammed into my throat so ha
rd I thought I might pass out. Dizziness swirled through my head, a thousand different questions rising and falling in discordant rhythm like the surface of a stormy sea. Rather than sit there and let them drown me, a thing I had made a pact not to do only a minute ago, I blurted out, “What is it?”
It has to be good, doesn’t it? It has to be. He wouldn’t have to finalize a cancellation.
I almost missed what he said, my heart pounded so loud. “I’ve got you a date for the gala!”
“That’s… that’s fantastic.” I stumbled over my own tongue in my rush. “Who is it? What’s his name? What are the details?”
Aaron chuckled. I sensed his excitement even through the phone. This opportunity was going to be as good for him as it was for me. “He wants his identity to be a surprise, but something tells me you might know each other already.”
It can’t be him…
Could it?
“Can you tell me anything at all?”
“Oh, sure! I want you two to be able to find each other, don’t I? He’s young, mid-twenties. Curly brown hair. Brown eyes. Slender. Athletic. Very good-looking. You won’t be disappointed.”
“And my requirements?”
“We had a long interview that was probably the most fun I’ve had yet. So, a real conversationalist. Used to working with the mobility-impaired. He seems like he’s very understanding and has a huge heart. He told me he just wants to help people have fun. And that includes whatever mystery man I’m setting him up on a date with.”
This absolutely sounded like that omega referee. Some of the descriptors were a little slanted -brown eyes instead of amber- but I supposed attraction on my part had something to do with that. I wouldn’t have called his hair curly, but people could give themselves different hairstyles. He also hadn’t seemed like such a conversationalist when I talked to him; then again, there was a difference between awkward courtside flirting and an interview given in a cozy office.
“What do you think?” Aaron pressed. “Yay or nay?”
“I accept. Does he know what time it starts?”
“Yes. He says he’ll meet you at the bar around seven-thirty. He knows what you look like.”
“Good. Very good. Thank you so much, Aaron.”
“No way. Thank you, Harrison. I can’t wait to hear back from you two about how this goes.”
I had more questions I wanted to ask, like why my date could know who I was but not vice versa, when my office clock chimed the hour. Dammit. I was going to be late again.
“I hate to stop here,” I said, forcing the words out. “But…”
“I understand. I’ll keep you posted if anything changes, but if you don’t hear from me, you know you’re good to go ahead.”
“Thank you,” I said again, and hung up.
Grabbing the papers I’d gathered up during my initial wait for the phone to be answered, I hurried out of my office and to the elevator. The trip was short and I dashed out as soon as the doors opened.
I burst into the meeting room, the door rebounding and whacking on the arm of my chair. “I’m here!” I panted.
“Oh, good, the boss decided to show up,” Robert joked. “It’s about time.”
I rolled away from the door and took my spot at the head of the table. “You won’t be laughing when you get older. I can replace my wheelchair, but good luck replacing your legs for newer ones.”
Laughter echoed around the table, mostly amusement with some relief mixed in. Literally hearing the mood lift made me realize how far down I had brought everyone over the past several days with my grumpiness. That wasn’t how things should have been.
I’ll focus everything I have on this meeting. No more snapping. No more getting too frustrated to cooperate. That’s not what this is about. It’s about hope.
“Let’s get started, then,” I said, looking around at all the faces I knew and valued so much. My team, my support, my visionaries. “Who wants to go first? Bring us up to date.”
As usual, Cecilia stood up first and started to speak. Folding my hands, I focused on her and the very important information she was giving me. For the most part, I managed.
But, deep in the back of my mind, I was thinking about my date and the hope that brought me.
4
Kade
I have no idea what I’m doing.
I stared inside my closet at an array of clothes I barely ever wore and wondered where I should even begin. I was an athlete. A coach. A referee. My idea of dressing up was a t-shirt that didn’t have stains on it and wearing a belt with my jeans. All of this stuff in here were relics of my past, one-time-use cast-offs forced upon me by my parents. My prom suit, for the one time I’d gone. My graduation suit, which was really just a broader clone of my prom suit. The shirt and jacket I’d worn to my grandfather’s funeral. A handful of other “event” outfits that came nowhere near the level of sophistication I suspected was inherent of galas. Having never actually been to one before, I couldn’t say for sure.
I didn’t even know what I didn’t know, it was that bad.
God, did weather feature into this? Could I roll up my sleeves because it was hot or was that a fashion faux-pa? Sterling would know, but he hadn’t answered any of my texts since early this morning. I was on my own.
I was an adult, though. I could do this. All I had to do was a process of elimination.
So, the prom suit and graduation suit were out. I didn’t want to look like a high school boy at his first dance.
The jacket from the funeral wasn’t bad. I pulled it out and held it up, pretending I knew what I was looking for. Definitely clothes. Wearable. I tossed it on my bed, hanger and all, and went back to rummaging. Brown slacks from my first job interview. Black and brown went together, right? That went onto the bed too, which meant I now had to choose a shirt. For that, I chose a blue polo shirt from a few years ago when I was to attend an awards ceremony that ended up being canceled.
Gathering everything in my arms, I went into the bathroom and dressed in front of the mirror. The jacket was tight on my arms and shoulders and the slacks were a little wrinkled, but I didn’t have that overstuffed sausage look so it was fine. Right? It was fine. No one would be looking at me anyway, because I was a nobody volunteer ref.
I adjusted the collar of the shirt as best as I could to counteract the creases formed by months of disuse and went in search of shoes.
And by that, I meant I had two pairs of shoes and one was not acceptable, and the other was definitely not acceptable. Work sneakers, or the ancient too-big dress shoes I used every special occasion since my first and only prom. They were too big, because my mother had anticipated another growth spurt that never came, and had been worn even looser over time. I had to wear two pairs of socks to keep my feet from flopping around inside them like they were clown shoes. Could I enjoy tonight while suffering from an affliction of sweaty feet? That remained to be seen.
I headed out of the bathroom and picked up my phone in time to see the screen go dark. I must have gotten a text
Thumbing the slide bar across the screen, I checked. As I’d thought, I had one. It was from Sterling, letting me know he was on his way. His apartment was right on the other side of the street. We could take a taxi together to the gala and split the bill.
I guess this is it.
My muscles clenched tight with nerves, I walked out of my apartment and went over to the elevator. The button lit up and from somewhere deep in the building came a deep, grinding moan as the lift started to move to my floor. I stepped back and waited, crossing my arms.
I wonder if I’ll see anyone I know? Maybe that alpha…
Our first encounter had left me confused. He’d taken an interest in me and then bolted later on without an explanation or so much as a farewell. Yeah, he’d taken me off-guard at first, but he was only returning my attention to him. Maybe I hadn’t responded fast enough, or I’d responded too much. No way of telling.
I’d gone back to that rec center seve
ral times as a referee in the days since then, but hadn’t seen him. Probably bad timing and I was overreacting, but still. If only I knew who he was…
I could have asked Sterling, except he was acting weirdly, like he had a secret he wanted to tell while also having been sworn to never say a word about it. Very weird.
The elevator finally came and I rode it down to the lobby. The doors opened and I stepped out. The guard at the front desk had a fan blowing at full speed in his face and it was no wonder why. It was clammy and humid as hell down here, the outside air flowing in whenever anyone opened the front door.
Night pressed against the glass front doors, filmy as smog with streaks of dull, reflected light. A shadowy silhouette, outlined by the light it blocked out, stood off to the side of the walkway. The silhouette held a cigarette, the tip a glowing cherry ember. The cigarette lifted, clasped in spectral fingers. Faint light spread across the silhouette’s face, revealing the spooky shade to be none other than Sterling enjoying a good smoke.
Some of the tension eased from my legs. I hadn’t been scared by him standing out there like a creep, not at all. My apprehension at seeing him had to do with the fact that I was nervous and soon I’d be surrounded by crowds of faceless, nameless people who were all like strangers to me.
That was my story and I was sticking to it.
I stepped out into the night, heat smacking me in the face like a wet fish. “What are you doing?” I called over to Sterling. He exhaled a puff of smoke, his grin blood-red in the light from his burning cigarette. “Standing over here in the dark?”
Sterling pointed with his cigarette at my apartment building. “Your security bulldog came out and yelled at me for smoking too close to the entrance. Why? Did I scare you?”
“No!” I hoped I didn’t look as defensive as I felt.
He laughed and tossed his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. The sweet scent of smoke perfumed the air. “I definitely scared you.”
Sweet Emotion: East Coast Sugar Daddies: Book 1 Page 3