Ballers: His Game (Ballers Series Book 1) (2 page)

While Mister Chocolate and Stacey negotiate terms of engagement I take the time to see what Stacey will possibly be getting into tonight. I know her checklist and I figure I’ll go through it to see if I should just send these two on their merry way now.

Mister Chocolate’s friend is the total opposite. Blonde hair that is kind of long but not too long. Really blue eyes that are unlike any I have ever seen. His smile is nice, pretty white and straight, a big plus on Stacey’s list. Just as the dimples in each of his cheeks and the one in his chin that is almost covered by a day and a halves worth of stubble, would be.

His thick neck tells me I am definitely looking at a football player without a doubt. His shoulders are wide and his arms are large under his blue dress shirt that is rolled up past his elbows, showing off thick tanned forearms. He has an expensive watch on his wrist drawing the eyes to his tanned skin.

I’m sure Stacey will appreciate the way his dress shirt clings to his muscled body that tapers into a narrow waist. His jeans hug his thick thighs nicely. Stacey will give him points for the three loose top buttons of his shirt as well. He is clearly six three maybe six four.

My eyes take a pass back up and lock with his hungry gaze that is locked on me. I tilt my head studying him then snort. This white boy done lost his mind. I tune back into the conversation and tear my eyes away from the blue eyes that are trying to eat me up.

“Okay, so no names, no personal info. I think we can handle that,” Mr. Chocolate says letting his eyes rake over Stacey.
Figures
.

So much for Stacey’s great idea to get me some sex. My first prospect is undressing her with his eyes. I frown at Mr. Chocolate when he slides into the booth next to Stacey. I snatch my glass from the table. I have no idea why I am pissed. I had already made up my mind that he is not going to be the one to clean out my cobwebs and lube the pipes.

“Hi, it is nice to meet you,” a deep booming voice says beside me.

I turn to see blue eyes staring back at me. Mr. Chocolate’s friend has slid in beside me. I look down at his outstretched hand and decide since I am drinking the champagne he and his friend sent I can at least be nice. I slip my hand into his large hand and my palm is swallowed. I don’t know what possesses me, but I squeeze harder to not let his large hand dominate mine.

“Nice to meet you,” I say dryly.

“Are you just out having a good time or celebrating?”

“I received my passing results from my bar exam today so I guess you can say celebrating,” I reply and look down at our still joined hands pointedly.

“Beautiful and smart,” he says with a drawl and a megawatt smile. This man is really hitting on me. I lift a brow looking him over in amusement.

“How about you,” I quiz back. “Looking for an easy lay after a loss or celebrating a win?”

He throws his head back and gives a deep hearty laugh. “Celebrating a win,” he smiles.

“Nice, good for you,” I say turning my attention back to the dance floor.

Stacey and Mr. Chocolate stand and start for the dance floor. I laugh to myself because Stacey has officially locked down her target for the night. I guess I could just go home now. I look at my phone and groan. It is still early and I promised myself I would not run out of here too early. I want to say that I at least tried to have fun.

“So what made you want to be a lawyer,” I hear rumble from beside me.

I turn and narrow my eyes at him. “I have not had enough to drink to sit here and tell you my life story. So let’s not and say we did,” I say and turn back to people watch.

From the corner of my eye I watch him signal to the waitress and she brings him another beer a few minutes later. An hour later he is still sitting beside me having gone through beer after beer. Stacey has not returned yet. I have finished the champagne and have started on the second bottle that arrived. I should feel bad that I am drinking the expensive bottles and ignoring this guy totally, but I am a little too annoyed with Stacey to care.

“So are you ready to talk yet,” he says beside me.

I look over at him and his impish smile and laugh. He is seriously waiting for me to drink enough to talk to him. I’m not sure if I should be annoyed, flattered or alarmed. I turn toward him and cross my legs leaning my elbow on my thigh and placing my cheek in my palm.

“Okay Dimples, what do you want to talk about,” I say with a small smile.

He laughs and lifts a brow at me. “Dimples?”

“Yup, that’s what I have named you. No names remember,” I shrug.

“Okay Counselor,” he chuckles. “What made you want to be a lawyer?”

“This again,” I sigh. “Okay, my dad was a lawyer and then became a judge. I’ve wanted to be one too for longer than I can remember. Why football?”

“I never said I play football,” he says looking amused.

“You didn’t have to, your neck and forearms gave you away,” I reply with a laugh.

“You checking me out Counselor,” he says with an air of confidence.

It is my turn to throw my head back and laugh. I laugh so hard my belly hurts and a tear slides out the corner of my eye. He looks at me with mock shock then gives me a half grin.

“You’re very pretty when you laugh, but I don’t think you checking me out is that funny.”

“Aw, Dimples I’m sorry,” I say trying to bite back my laughter. “My brother used to play until he injured his knee, my uncle played for Atlanta for years, and one of my best friends was not only married to a Pro but her father played for years. So I know a player when I see one.”

“Sorry about your brother,” Dimples says with real concern.

“He’ll be okay. He hasn’t been healing the way we all expected so he is going all organic and holistic now and it seems to be working much better.”

“That’s great. A few of the guys on my team eat organic and all that. I thought about it but coach isn’t big on it so I haven’t done it yet,” he muses then takes a pull of his beer.

“It’s made a difference for my brother. So… why football?”

“My dad and brother have tossed a ball around with me back on the ranch for as long as I can remember,” he says with a reflective smile. “Don’t tell anyone but I suck as a ranch hand so I was never going to be any help to my dad. I guess I always wanted to play ball. I love the game.”

I laugh again and give him a genuine smile. His eyes search mine as I laugh. Then his eyes dropped down to the twins that are sort of on display with the way I am sitting. I reach to place my fingertips under his chin and lift his head, bringing his eyes back to mine. “Up here Rookie,” I snort.

His brows furrow and he reaches for my fingers wrapping my hand in his. “How do you know I am a rookie?”

I am shocked by the surge of electricity I feel from his touch. I snatch my hand back and wrap my arms around my middle. I shrug and shake my head to clear it.

“It’s in the sparkle in your eyes. It hasn’t jaded you yet and it hasn’t changed you yet. You still talk about the game with love not like a job. You’re built but not Pro built and you are still wearing that baby face, which says you just came out of college. You’re good enough to play because when you said you won it wasn’t just a, my team won, you said it with pride like you had a part in it.” I shrug and bite back the smug smile trying to make its way to my lips.

“That is amazing,” he laughs. “So how is a woman like you still single?”

“And who says I’m single?” I challenge.

“There is a
lack
of sparkle in your eyes. You are celebrating something great and if I were your man there is no way I wouldn’t be here celebrating with you. There’s no ring on your finger. As beautiful and amazing as you are, any sane man would brand you in any way he could to claim you as his own,” he replies with a heated stare.

I feel his words down low. I clench my thighs and squirm a little. Why in the world is it suddenly so warm in here? I fill my glass and gulp it down before looking at him again. He licks his full lips and I find myself staring at them. I think I have officially had too much to drink, but damn if his lips aren’t full and sort of sexy.
Okay, really sexy
.

“Relationships are distractions. Women like me can’t afford those kinds of distractions. As soon as you set out to accomplish goals a man just gets in the way. So I made myself a promise to swear men off until I graduated from college, passed the bar exam and landed my dream job.”

“So I know you accomplished two of those, how are you doing on the other one?” He asks as his eyes rake my body.

“That would be a checkmate,” I say with a smile.

“So you are free to date now,” he says with his brow raised.

I laugh and slide over to sit closer to him. He watches my every move with a smile on his face. I look up at him and smile.

“Let’s find you a girl so you can go celebrate Rookie,” I chuckle, “How about her?” I tipped my glass toward the bar to a brunette talking to a group of girls.

He follows the line of my glass and points with his chin. “The one in the pink dress?”

“Yup,” I let the p pop.

“Nice face but look at her ankles,” he murmurs.

I look down to see she has on shoes that look too tight and her ankles look swollen. My head falls against his shoulder as I laugh hard. I can feel his body shake and hear his rumbling laughter.

“She does have kankles. Oh my gosh. Those poor shoes,” I cry. I compose myself and start to scan the room again. “What about her the tall one in black,” I point my glass toward the edge of the dance floor to a lithe blonde.

“I plead the fifth,” he laughs.

“What? What is wrong with her?” I frown and look up at him.

“I like my women with meat on their bones. Not to mention I’m six five, I think she might be taller than me,” he teases. He is clearly exaggerating. She may be six feet tall.

I break into a fit of giggles and shake my head at him. I scan the room again trying to find a better match. He snakes his arm around my waist splaying his large hand against my belly and points across from us with his beer.

“I think it’s my turn,” he says against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

Maybe I am just sexually frustrated or something. I have to blink a few times when he starts to absentmindedly rub small circles against my flat belly with his thumb. I have all types of butterflies in my tummy. I take a deep breath and follow his gaze.

“The one with the platinum and black shirt,” he says.

Once the description is out of his mouth my head snaps back toward him. His face is mere inches from mine. I pull back a little. “Dimples, the description of that shirt alone cut, blocked and sealed him from ever making the list,” I laugh.

He chuckles and looks back at the bar. “Okay,” he tips his beer bottle like an arrow once again, “The tall one over there with the other two guys.”

I look at the tall light skin guy he is pointing to. He is nice looking but one close look and that will be a big no. I look up, start to laugh and shake my head. “Turn on your gaydar, honey. He is batting for the wrong team but if you think he is cute I’ll go talk to him for you.”

He shrugs looks around then gives me a little squeeze. “What about him?” he nods and I follow his gesture.

I shake my head and smile. “I actually know him and although he has asked me out a few times before he is not my type,” I say with a smile and a wink.

He has pointed out a friend of Stacey’s, Paul. He is a nice looking guy, tall, dark hair and green eyes. He works out a lot too. I’ve just never been interested.

“Meaning he’s white?” he asks with drawn eyebrows and tense eyes.

“I guess,” I say honestly.

“So this poor white boy never stood a chance,” he teases and gives me a sad face.

“Oh my gosh, Dimples,” I gasp. “You’re white?”

He laughs deep, sending the vibration through me. His eyes sparkle when he looks down at me. He bites his lip and shakes his head. “Nope, I think the lighting in here is off,” he says and starts to whistle and look around.

I laugh and elbow him in his side. He looks down at me and my lips and gives me that official panty melting smile. He is still making those darn circles with his thumb. I am ready to lose it. I pull away and slide over a few inches.

“Game over,” I murmur.

“Oh no,” he says. Sliding to follow me, he places his arm back around me. “We’re having so much fun.”

I sigh. “If it means I get to find you someone to go bother, fine.” I look out toward the dance floor again. “Look right there, she has a nice rack. Her butts not bad and she is average height, and since you don’t seem opposed to others she is perfect.”

I am pointing out a Hispanic looking girl who really is decent. He looks toward her and sweeps her with his eyes then holds his hand up in a so-so gesture and shrugs. He looks back to me.

“She’s okay, but look at her skirt. It’s so short she may moon us if she bends over, which means she is looking for someone to find their way up there and I would be far from the first and eons from the last.”

I burst into laughter and tears. Her skirt is really short, but hearing him say it the way he did with that drawl and his description, I can’t help the laughter. I wipe at the tears and place my hand on his shoulder.