With a whistle and the sound of a buzzer, tall, lanky boys streamed onto the hardwood floor, their rubber athletic shoes squeaking.
“Here we go,” hollered Ian. He escorted her to an empty spot among those proudly wearing the orange and black. “Have you ever seen basketball?”
Ava nodded. “Running up and down. Ball in the net.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed, but his lips twisted. “Basketball is way more than just running up and down the court. It’s the teamwork of passing, the grace of running while dribbling. The excitement of the slam dunk. The refinement of shooting at half court.”
She shook her head as if she understood. She pointed to the stands, drawing his attention away from her. “Yeah, the boys with the word pirate spelled out on their bare chests in black-and-orange paint especially demonstrate the grace and refinement of the sport.”
Ian shot her a glance, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Now you’ve got it.”
Ian was back to flirting with her again. Her blood seemed to heat and thin all at the same time as it rushed through her body.
The buzzer sounded and the players circled their coach while the fluff-brandishing girls took to the court. Loud dance music, similar to what had been playing at Club Escape, blasted over the sound system, and the girls began to move in a coordinated tribal-like dance.
“What is that?” she asked as she pointed.
“Oh, that’s the pom squad, and those girls over by the corner are the cheerleaders. They motivate the crowd.”
Ava scanned the faces in the bleachers. Every boy had his gaze trained on the dancers now in the middle of the court. “I can see that.”
“The pom girls and cheerleaders inspire many fantasies for the adolescent boys. But then in high school, the soccer girls, the tennis girls, the ones who liked drama or sang in choir, they’ve all starred in one fantasy or another.”
“Yours?”
Ian shook his head. “Me? No. I always liked the smart girls with their nose in a book.”
Like she’d been. Yeah, now she knew he was flirting. Her pulse picked up its rhythm.
“However, if you did want to wear one of those short pleated shirts, pull your hair into a ponytail and take up some pom-poms, I wouldn’t be…turned off.”
She laughed, and quelled the urge to remind him that role-playing and dress up was quite popular in romantic love play in long-term pair bonds. No, she just laughed and had a good time in Ian’s funny teasing presence. She liked this side of him, got the feeling he didn’t share it with a lot of people. She was warmed by the thought.
“So, we’re at the game. We’re having fun. What’s next for the typical high-school kids out on a date?” she asked.
A mischievous glint touched his brown eyes. “Let me show you one of my best moves.”
Ian stretched, lifted his arms, then casually draped one arm around her shoulder. “Did you catch that?” he asked.
“That fake maneuver to touch me? Yes, I caught that.” Was warmed by it, also.
“Glad to know I’ve still got it.”
He had something all right.
“Now, as a high-school girl, to show you like me, you—”
“I think I can handle that without instruction. I probably scoot up against you.” She slid along the smooth wood of the bleacher seat until their thighs touched. Her skin began to tingle. “Like this.”
“Exactly like that.”
Okay, this wasn’t so different from the things she’d demonstrated at the club. They had pure body alignment. Did he remember what she’d said about body positioning? How it would mirror a man and woman’s attunement in bed?
The warmth of his body heated her side. The scent of him filled her nose.
“What do you think?” he asked, his arm drawing her closer to him. Her head resting against his chest. This was a different kind of seduction. Slower. Less combative. She liked it more. That easing into another person.
“The rituals of high school are not so different from other courtship ones. The sponsored gatherings where grown-ups can keep a watchful eye. The couples who try to be close to each other.”
“Maybe there is something to that instinct stuff.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now what?”
“Well, throughout the evening I see just how low my hand can slip. That’s called copping a feel.”
Ava turned her head to see his fingers just at the swell of her breast. Her stomach knotted, probably how it would have if they were actually seventeen, in high school, and here in the gym together on a date rather than filling in a gap in her education. “Seeing no luck in any downward direction, what then?”
He sighed heavily, turning his attention back to the action on the court. “I try to actually concentrate on something other than you.”
Her whole body warmed at his words. Then her lips twisted in a secret smile. Her instincts were telling her she should make his goal to concentrate on something other than her very, very difficult.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AFTER THE PIRATES SOLIDLY trounced their rivals, Ian took her on a quick cruise down the famous 39th Street. They stopped at a drive-in for an order of Tater Tots and cherry Cokes.
Ava had been on dates before. An awkward coffee date between classes her freshman year in college. Enthusiastic, yet utterly impersonal dates with story-swapping colleagues. Blind dates set up by her parents with archaeologists on dig sites. None of those had felt right. She’d never felt the ease of simply being herself as she did with Ian.
As Ian drove back to Ava’s building, they’d talked and laughed and not a single word was about the book. The Bricktown crowd was light that evening, and they didn’t have to wait while pedestrians crossed in front of her garage.
Ian pushed the button for the gate to open, then drove the car inside the loading area redesigned to act as a garage. They were acting as if they were a real couple. She liked being with him like this.
Ava reached for her door handle, sad their evening was coming to an end. Not if she could help it.
“Don’t go yet,” he said, his hand on her shoulder.
He’d turned the car off, but left the music from the radio on. The lights from the dashboard glowed, but didn’t fully illuminate his face. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking right now.
His fingers curved around her shoulder. “Come closer,” he urged, his voice low and seductive. He pulled her as close to his body as the bucket seat would allow.
A small shiver rippled down her back and settled at the base of her spine. “This is called parking, and if I’m lucky, you’ll let me get to first base.”
“What’s first base?”
“It’s a baseball term.”
She smiled into the night. “Sports. Of course.”
“But on a woman, it’s this.”
Ava’s eyes drifted shut as Ian leaned forward. His lips gently brushed hers again. This kiss was different from anything they’d shared before. Slower and yet tentative and less controlled, as if they really were school kids and this was their first kiss.
Then the real Ian, the mature man of the world took over. His mouth teased and tantalized her lips. She sucked in her breath and held it as his mouth opened over hers.
She wound her arms around his neck and curled her fingers into the dark locks behind his ears. The blood zipped through her veins and she released her breath in a sigh.
Ian eased the pressure of his mouth and began to explore the seam of her lips with his tongue. Her breathing came quick and heavy. She opened her lips to him. He groaned and pulled her tighter.
It could have been hours or maybe only a few minutes, but Ian released her, resting his chin on her forehead. His breathing was hard and labored, matching hers.
“So, if that’s first base, I take it there is a second?”
“Yes,” he told her, his voice strained.