Page 21 of Read With Your Heart

“Hey,” I snap. He continues his drive, leaps for the rim, and drops the ball through the net. He’s a natural, and he’s beautiful. The concentration on his face when he plays is really striking, but I’m not going to be distracted by his edgy good looks.

“I need to talk to you,” I demand after he drops from his dunk. He picks up the ball and dribbles as he approaches me. His gray eyes gleam in the dimming daylight. He looks like a predator narrowing in on his prey or an athlete with a plan. He’s going to pivot and escape me again.

Today, I wear flats, and I have my own plan of attack. As he draws close, I reach forward and swipe the ball from him. Tapping it left, I follow it and rush around him as I dribble and take the shot. It’s only a layup, but when I turn around, I see I’ve stunned him.

“You play?” he questions, standing with his hands on his hips. His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath.

“All-conference all-star. State champions my junior year. Played club in college.”

“Damn, woman.”

I smile despite my determination to speak with him. The look on his face shows he’s impressed, and it’s nice to remember for a moment what I’d once accomplished. But I’m not that girl anymore. I clear my throat.

“Why haven’t you called me to make an appointment to discuss Amaryllis?”

“She told me she could read and write, so I let it go.”

“Mr. Ramirez, it isn’t that simple.” He cranes his neck, looking over both his shoulders.

“I don’t see my dad, so no need to take that tone with me. It’s Leon, remember?” He steps closer to me.

“Yes, I’m aware of who you are.” My voice drops, and I inhale. He smells a little like gasoline, fresh outdoors, and all male.

“How aware?” He tilts his head like he does, a smirk curling his lips. He’s so good-looking, but I’m not falling for it today.

“I have a proposition.” I tug the ball from my hip and hold it forward. Moving it back and forth between us, I say, “I suggest a little one-on-one.”

“You can’t play in those shoes,” he points out before his eyes appraise my body. I’m wearing a wrap dress with my flats, so while uncomfortable, I won’t break an ankle if we play each other.

“Fine, a game of twenty-one. If I win, you make an appointment with me and the school social worker.”

“Now, you think my sister is fucked in the head?”

“I think your sister is lonely in a new school, in a new town, and misses her parents. I’m not going to pry into where they are, but she needs someone to talk to, and she also needs some academic support.”

“You’re the teacher. You support her,” he snaps.

“Amaryllis might need more than just me.” I don’t wish to get into the particulars of teaching, co-teaching, and special education on the ball court, but if we have to do this here so he’ll at least hear me out, then this is where we’ll speak.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “And if I win, you owe me dinner.”

“Like a date?” I choke.

“Sure, we can call it that.” One corner of his lips hitches higher than the other side, and his dimple pops. Dang, I like that dimple. “You already owe me for saving your fine ass. Twice.”

What?

“You did not save my ass.” I clear my throat. Did he say my ass is fine? He gives me that crooked smirk, and I glare at him. His gray eyes glow silver. I’d continue to argue, but then I recall both the alley and the kiss at the bar.

Fine, he saved me. But I don’t need saving.

What if you wanted saving or something similar?

Dinner. It’s just dinner, only I don’t intend to lose. A man like him is way out of my league anyway, not to mention I don’t do dangerous anymore. Then again, Leon Ramirez doesn’t seem as dangerous as he first appeared now that I’ve encountered him a few times.

Now that I’ve kissed him, or brushed lips against his, or whatever you want to call that memorable experience.

My lips tingle like they have been doing for days as if I can recapture the sensation of his mouth on mine. Only it wasn’t his full mouth, and I realize I wish it had been.