Looking uncertain, her eyes slowly shift back to mine again. “Really?”
One side of my mouth twitches up. Instead of replying, I simply grab her fingers before tugging her across the street towards the brightly colored shop. As we make our way to the counter, I ask, “So what kind are you in the mood for?”
Her gaze catches mine before quickly skittering away. She does that a lot. “Same as you.”
My lips curve up even further and when it’s our turn, I order for both of us. The guy behind the counter does a double take before a massive grin overtakes his face. “No problem, King!”
With raised brows, Ivy’s eyes slide to mine as the guy calls out our order to someone else who will apparently make our drinks. Before I can even try to engage her in any kind of conversation, the guy is back.
Shaking his head, he leans across the counter as if settling in for a nice long discussion. “That was one hell of a game yesterday.” He quickly glances over his shoulder before inching closer to me. “I’ve got to watch my language around here. The manager would write me up if he heard that.”
Even though I nod like I’m completely fascinated by what he’s saying, I’m really wishing this guy would just go away. Instead, he continues as if he’s totally oblivious to the fact that I might be trying to spend some time with the girl standing right next to me. Not once does he glance in Ivy’s direction. He probably doesn’t even know she’s there.
“We all went crazy when you caught that fifteen yard pass and then made it through like five guys before scoring that touchdown! It was the most amazing play I’ve ever seen in my life!” Grinning like a lunatic, he shakes his head again. “Only you, King! Only you could do something like that.”
I smile tightly as he continues yammering on about one of the upcoming games. Ivy is watching the whole exchange with a curious stare as if we’re primates at the zoo that she’s somehow trying to wrap her mind around. I don’t like it. I don’t want her watching me like I’m part of some damn circus act.
I get that enough as it is.
It suddenly occurs to me that I actually like that Ivy isn’t caught up in all the football hype and BS. In the few conversational exchanges we’ve had thus far, not once has she brought up football or the NFL. It’s like she’s totally oblivious to all of it.
Thankfully Chad, the dude who took our order and has pretty much yapped my ear off for the last five minutes, hands us our smoothies. I know his name is Chad because he told me like three times. The girl who actually made our smoothies had to clear her throat twice before finally tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention because he wouldn’t stop talking.
Thanking him, I hand Ivy hers before turning away from the front counter.
“Hey, King?”
I almost grit my teeth as Chad calls out my name with a hopeful note tinging his voice. But I don’t. That’s not the way to handle fans and I know it. These people enjoy watching me play and they spend their hard earned money at the stadium. I’m appreciative of that fact. Instead I keep the relaxed look plastered across my face. “What’s up?”
“Um… would you mind signing this piece of paper for my little brother?” His face reddens. “He’s a huge fan. And I just know you’re gonna go pro this year.”
“Of course.” I walk back to the counter before taking the pen he’s holding out to me. “What’s his name,” I ask as I get ready to write my usual shtick.
“Oh… um, er, Chad.”
Glancing up, I meet his eyes. His face looks as if it’s going to burst into flames any moment. Zits and all. “No problem.” Then I get busy writing so we can get the hell out of here.
Finished, I hand him the pen before saying goodbye. Glancing around the small shop, I notice a few other people now watching me. Placing my hand on the small of Ivy’s back, I maneuver her out of the shop. Once the door closes behind us, I inhale a deep breath of fresh air and continue walking towards my truck which is parked in the lot next to the dance studio.
Ivy doesn’t say a word. She just continues sipping away on her smoothie. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking.
When we’re close enough, I click the automatic locks and open the door for her. She shoots me a surprised look before murmuring a quick thanks. Then I’m hustling around the front and sliding in besides her.
Is it completely weird that I like having her next to me in my truck?
You know what’s even weirder than that?
I’ve never driven a girl anywhere in this SUV.