Actually she was surprised, too. Usually she wasn’t confrontational, but she was living out a fantasy, and she didn’t want it ruined by him analyzing her sorry lack of a social life.
As it was, her two older brothers and her father were constantly foisting eligible friends off on her. There just wasn’t anyone she wanted to date. Well, maybe Ted, but he was already involved with Blythe.
Now that she was on a date with him—albeit one and only one date—she didn’t want him ruining it with a promise to fix her up with one of his good buddies.
"I apologize,” she whispered, her eyes avoiding his. "I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
"No, no,” he said quickly, "the fault was mine. I shouldn’t have pried. It’s just that—” He stopped abruptly. "Never mind.”
"If you’re going to suggest a friend you want me to meet, please don’t.”
"A friend? No, I wasn’t thinking of introducing you to any of my colleagues.”
It was absurd that she was so pleased to know that.
When they’d finished their dinner, they headed for the Forum. By the time they arrived, the facility was quickly filling up. Joy was amazed at the different perspective one got at the court level compared to sitting in the stands.
"This is fabulous,” Ted said as they settled onto the folding chairs on the sidelines. He twisted around and looked into the row upon row of seats behind him.
"I can’t believe I’m here. Promise me one thing,” she said. It was a long shot, but she was covering her bases. "If you ever meet my dad or my brothers, which I realize is highly unlikely, whatever you do, don’t mention this, all right?”
"Ah-ha!” Ted said, and laughed. "So there is someone who would have given his right arm for these tickets.”
"Yes. But family. It would have only caused problems. Three men. Two tickets. Besides, I was the one who won that silly drawing. I don’t know how, mind you, but it was my name they pulled out of that giant barrel, and I love basketball as much as my father and brothers.”
Applause erupted when the two teams ran onto the polished wood floor. Soon the players were taking practice shots, tossing the ball back and forth to each other. Joy was close enough to hear the whoosh of the balls as they passed from one pair of hands to another.
She craned her neck back to watch the men who raced past her. "I don’t think I ever realized how tall everyone is.”
"Me either,” Ted agreed.
Within a few minutes the game started, and the action was nonstop. Whatever inhibitions Joy had experienced at the beginning of their evening vanished as the Lakers took the floor. She cheered when they scored and argued with the referee over what she felt was an unfair foul.
It wasn’t until the fourth quarter, when she was relatively sure the Lakers would win the game, that she relaxed enough to realize that Ted was studying her.
"What?” she murmured. She would have looked away, but his gaze held hers fast and hard.
"Nothing,” he said.
"Then why are you looking at me like that?”
Ted grinned. "I’m not entirely sure what ‘that’ means, but I will tell you I’ve never seen anyone enjoy a basketball game as much as you.”
"Oh.”
Her enthusiasm did seem to runneth over. She honestly tried to sit still for what remained of the game, but it was impossible. Each time the Lakers scored, she leaped to her feet and applauded loudly. And when an official, the very one who’d given the unjust penalty, happened to walk past her seat, she suggested he might want to have his eyes checked.
If the referee heard her, he chose to ignore the comment.
The score was tied the last two minutes of the game when Seattle took a time-out.
"We have to win,” Joy said, wringing her hands.
"Why?” Ted wanted to know. "Do you have a lot of money riding on the outcome?”
"No!” She wasn’t into gambling. "It’s just that if I’m going to cheer my heart out for these guys, the least they can do is win.”
"They have enough incentive of their own.”
"I’m sure they do.”
The buzzer blared, and the two teams returned to the court. Joy’s eyes followed the time clock. Seattle scored, putting them in the lead. There was time, almost a minute and forty-five seconds, for the Lakers to tie up the game.
The Lakers piled two points onto the scoreboard, and the game was even. The last minute of the quarter dragged on for twenty. Just before the buzzer, Stanley, a rookie player for the Lakers, threw the basketball at midcourt. The ball swooshed through the net, and the fans went wild.
Without thinking what she was doing, Joy cried out excitedly and hurled herself at Ted. His arms went around her waist, and he lifted her from the ground and whirled her around several times in their own private celebration.
People crushed in around them, but Joy didn’t notice and she doubted that Ted did, either. All at once she realized that she was in Ted Griffin’s arms, holding on to him as if she intended never to let go.
Enjoy it, she told herself. Consider it a bonus.
She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his arms around her, savored his strength.
He released her abruptly, as if he realized he’d held her far longer than he should have. Joy made busywork, gathering her sweater and her purse. The Forum was emptying, the crowd pleased with the results of the game.
"Great game,” she said, the first to breach the silence.
"One of the year’s best.”