by Nia Stephens
On her way out the door her dad asked what had happened to the party. Gemma just shrugged. “Not interested anymore.” She knew he’d be furious if he knew the whole story. While she never wanted to see Christopher again, she didn’t want him to face her father’s wrath. The guy deserved to live to see twenty-one, after all.
Once at the gym, Gemma headed to her favorite court, but when she got there some guy was already shooting baskets. He made every shot. The guy’s concentration was on point. She hated to disturb him but it was her court. Okay, it’s not like she owned it or anything, but it was her favorite. The others were too small and didn’t have the same acoustics when the ball bounced against the hard wooden floor.
Gemma marched down to the center of the floor, preparing to politely ask the intruder to move his ass to another court. When she reached the center, the intruder turned and grinned. It was Ethan Jackson.
“Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in,” he said and shot a basket. Swoosh. “Bet you can’t do that,” he teased. He then made another shot. “Or that.” He jogged down the court and made an easy lay-up.
“I thought you were supposed to have skills,” Gemma teased back. “I could have made that shot in my sleep.”
“After last night I know you could have. At least your man in the stands thought so.” He set up for his next shot.
“He’s not my man,” Gemma said, bristling at the memory of how awful Christopher had turned out to be. “Not now, not ever.”
“Stop flappin’ your gums and make the shot.” He threw the ball at her. She set up for the shot but before releasing the ball, she said, “Let’s make this interesting. If I win, you beat it off my court.”
“And if I win,” he said, “I want you to go out with me whenever I want.”
“You’re on.” She narrowed her eyes and put her game face on. From the first point, Gemma realized Ethan meant business. Little did he know she was just as serious. Halfway through the game, the score was tied. Gemma took off her sweats as Ethan pulled his shirt over his head and threw it over toward the bleachers.
He was trying to distract her and unfortunately was succeeding, with his glistening, smooth and muscled chest. Since realizing she had only her sports bra on, she decided to play the same card. If Brandi Chastain could do it in front of a million soccer fans, she could do it to gain a point or two. If anyone walked in, she thought, this could be misconstrued as something else—two stripped down sweaty people in a gym!
When it came down to the final point, the score was dead even. “Whoever makes this shot wins,” Ethan called out. It was his ball. As he charged to the right and then to the left, Gemma was able to keep pace. Finally, he jumped and released the ball. It went in. “That’s it! I win!” he yelled, doing his victory dance.
“But if you noticed, I kept up with you the entire time.” Gemma declared proudly.
Ethan stopped his victory dance and walked up to her. Now face-to-face, he said, “Do you think that maybe I let you keep up with me?”
By that point Gemma was hardly shy around him. A sweaty game of basketball in shorts and a sports bra could do that. She leaned in and closed the gap between them a little more. “Yeah, but did you ever think I let you get that last point?”
She backed away and grabbed her shirt from the sideline. She could feel his eyes on her as she put her T-shirt back on. She knew he was trying to figure her out. She hated to admit it but she took great pleasure in watching him attempting to decide whether she had thrown the game.
As if to get the last word, Ethan finally said, “How about I get that date right now?”
Gemma grinned to herself. It was exactly what she wanted, too.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2007 by Parachute Publishing L.L.C.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Dafina Books and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-8673-4
First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: June 2007