“Date with Marcus.”
Hunter made a face.
“When I told you I was going over the pros and cons in my head, I didn’t mean I wanted your assistance. I was just being honest.”
“Fine. But if you’re going to go over the pros and cons without me, I want to plead my case first.”
My brows raised. “Plead your case?”
“Yep. You might be missing some critical factors that would sway your decision.”
“Oh yeah?” I laughed. “Like what?”
“Well, you should know I’m extremely good at it.”
“Every man thinks he’s good at it, Hunter.”
He ignored me. “And I’m well endowed.”
“Show me a man who pleads his case by saying ‘I have a tiny penis’.”
“I believe sex without going down on a woman first is bad manners.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
One of the women sitting two rows ahead of us turned and leaned up. “If she says no, I’ll give you my number.”
My face turned crimson, while Hunter, being Hunter, dazzled her with a smile and wink. “And I haven’t even gotten to my best selling points yet.”
Luckily, the ref blew the whistle calling the game back to start, and the persistent man sitting next to me redirected his focus. I, on the other hand, stared straight ahead, struggling to follow a bouncing ball. All I could think was God, I like a man with good manners.
***
“Could we go to the mall tomorrow before going to Sunday night dinner?” Izzy asked from the back of Hunter’s rental car. We were almost back to the city after getting stuck in construction traffic.
I turned. “I have plans tomorrow in the afternoon.”
“Oh. That’s right. The ugly guy.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught Hunter smirking.
“Marcus isn’t ugly. Besides, I thought you needed to go to the mall today for some new practice shorts.”
Izzy shrugged. “I can use the ones I have for a while longer.”
There was a reason if she was giving up a trip to the mall. “Okay. So if we skip the mall this afternoon, do you want to do something else?”
She looked away. “I kind of want to go to Beacon to watch the boys basketball game.”
“The boys basketball game?”
“For technique,” she responded, selling it way too hard. “It’s good to watch other players for form and technique, right, Hunter?”
Hunter’s eyes flashed to me. I squinted back, and somehow we had a two-second wordless conversation. “Watching is always good,” he said. “But you might want to watch pro ball so you don’t pick up bad habits from high school kids.”
I tried not to smirk. Of course I’d let her go to the game instead of shopping with me. She was fifteen and belonged with her friends.
Hunter looked in the rearview mirror at Izzy. “What time is the game?”