Addicted

"Yeah, but I'm good." I stretched my arms up to the ceiling and twisted. "This guy stopped and helped me, then he changed my tire for free today. He was a godsend."

"Okay. Where do I come into all of this?"

"He's a swimmer, and a damn good one. He's a student here, but he's not exactly the traditional type of guy that is on the swim team." I smirked at the incredulous look that moved across Martin's handsome face.

"Meaning?"

"He's got tats, lots of them, and he drives a bike, but he's a great guy. Looks can be a little deceiving." I shrugged and clasped my hands behind my back, pulling into a deep stretch.

"Have you seen him swim?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nope, but I'm not asking you to let him on the team. Just give him a chance to try out. I know the try outs are closed, but you know Coach Dalmoth. Open it back up for him. You'll not be disappointed." I turned to see Dill motion for us to join him on the courts. It was our turn to play.

"You score the first three points in this game and I'll do it." He smirked, playing with me like he always did. He was a great guy, and Katelyn was lucky, but then again, so was he.

"Consider it done." I extended my hand and shook his before jogging out onto the court. I moved back into place as the tip off happened and jumped as hard as I could as the ball flew back toward me. I wanted to give Tate a chance at one of this dreams or at least crack open the door. Part of it was to say thank you for being so good to me the night before, but part of it was me starting to like him as a person. He was going to defend me at the burger place earlier that day even though there were four guys who were all bigger than him.

He didn't seem to care.

I turned and moved down the court, twisting and using every dribbling move I had to out maneuver the large guys that tried to take the ball from me. It wasn't going to be easy to get a three-pointer by any means. A layup, no problem, but having to stop on the outer rim while everyone was racing toward me?

Fuck.

I faked a jump at the three-point line and the large guy in front of me jumped, too. The moment he started to come down, I lifted on my toes and pushed off, letting the ball fly from my fingers and scoring the first three points of the game.

The crowd went wild and I let out a loud yell. I found Martin in the crowd, and he shook his head as a big smile lifted his lips.

He mouthed his response and I nodded.

Saturday. Two p.m. Don't be late.

Awesome.

Chapter 10

Tate

The rest of the afternoon and evening went by incredibly slow. After having lunch with Val, I wanted more of her. More time with her, if even just a quick moment. Anger burned through me at the thought of the blond dickhead from the hamburger place hurting her, and I had to calm myself more than once over it. How anyone could hurt a woman that looked as sweet as she did, and obviously had the heart to back it up, was beyond me.

What I couldn't reconcile was my prejudice against rich people and how I felt about her already, even just having met her. The bitch in the car the night before was much more in tune with what I expected from David Scott's kid. The more I thought about it, the more I remembered hearing about her family and their involvement in politics and the various school boards around the area. They had their name everywhere, and if I recalled correctly, the business building at UMN was named after her father, too.

"How's it going, buddy? You're working a whole lot slower than you usually do." Jerry patted me on the back as he stopped beside me under a Mustang I was working on. The breaks were shot and the fix usually took me an hour at most, but I'd been at my current project for a little over two hours at that point.

"Sorry, I guess I have too much on my mind." I wiped my forearm over my face and let out a long sigh. "Do you think all poor people are greedy and bitch about their lack all the time?"

"Nope." Jerry reached up and turned a knob that I was headed toward next. "And, I don't think all rich people are bad. People are people, Tate. You know that."

"Yeah, I guess." I lifted my arms and went back to work as my mind wandered in various dark corners, trying to discern if people really did fit certain classifications based on wealth or their social status.

"If you won a million dollars, what would you do with it?" He patted my back once. "Would you spend it all over the course of a week on all the toys you've always wanted?"

I pulled my hands down and turned to face him. "What? Of course not. I'd take care of my debts, put my mother in a nice house, and help out a few friends and some of the poorer families in my neighborhood. If there was anything left, I'd put it up for the future."

"And what would you do for yourself? Get a new bike? Vacation? A yacht?" He wagged his eyebrows.

"No, I'm good. I love my bike, and I don't have time to take off. You guys need me here." I smirked and went back to working.

"Exactly. Not everyone is what they seem, boy. You're not the anomaly, but those that live up to their stigma are." He walked away as his words sunk in. He had to be right.