Blake chuckled and placed an open-mouth kiss on my cheek, sucking hard.

“Gross.” I pushed him away and wiped my face. He laughed harder.

The woman behind the desk giggled. “I’ll wait until we have two free stations next to each other. I have a feeling he won’t like being far away from you for too long.”

He raised his chin. “Your feelings are correct, ma’am.”

He sat next to me, bouncing in his seat, his new haircut revealing more of his perfect face. “How much longer?”

I rolled my eyes and reached down into my bag and pulled out a lollipop for him. He took it, no questions asked. “Seriously, though,” he mumbled around the candy, “how much longer?”

“I don’t know, but look.” I showed him a flyer displaying a drive-in theatre nearby. They were showing Hoosiers, his favorite film. “Perfect,” he whispered. “You think you’ll be done in an hour?”

I nodded.

He jumped up. “Good. I’ll come back.” He started to leave but turned halfway, took the steps to cover the distance between us, and kissed me. “Don’t go anywhere. I love you.” And then he was gone, out the doors and into the sunlight. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who watched him leave.

“He a baller?” a man sitting in the waiting area yelled out.

My hair covered in plastic wrap, I looked around the salon, making sure he was talking to me.

“Yes, you!” he said.

I reared back, a little afraid of his tone.

“That’s Dennis,” the woman from earlier whispered. “He’s a little crazy but means well. He’s the town’s basketball historian. You best answer him before he loses his mind.”

“Yes, sir. He’s a basketball player.”

“Duke?” he bellowed, arms crossed over his fat gut.

“Not sure, sir.”

“Whaddaya mean you’re not sure, girl? He is or he ain’t!”

“Dennis!” the woman reprimanded. “Be nice to my clients or I’ll kick your fat ass out of my salon.”

His eyes went wide. “Sorry, Missy,” he drawled.

“He signed with Duke, sir,” I answered. “But he’s still deciding whether to enlist in the army or to play ball.”

He stood and strolled over to me, taking the seat Blake had just vacated. “Hmm,” he mused, “that’s a tough choice.” He kept nodding, as if he was the one to make the decision. “He a good man?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. Blake’s the best man I know.”

“Blake?” He eyed the ceiling, deep in thought. “Hunter?”

I smiled. “Yes, that’s him.”

“And you love him?”

“Yes, sir. I love him,” I assured him.

“Well, then, you decide for him. A man is only as good as the woman behind him. Or under him! Or on top of him!” He winked while his body shook with laughter.

I paled, eyes wide.

“I’m just messin’, girl. But not really. What do you want for him?”

Forever, I thought. I want him forever. “It’s not my choice. It’s his. It’s important for him to make his own decision.”

“He told you that?”

“Yes.”

“Before or after he fell stupidly in love with you?”

I laughed softly. “Before.”

“Well, things change, girl. Maybe now he wants you to tell him what to do. Maybe he’s given you the cards, and now you have to deal them.”

Blake’s eyes widened when he stepped into the salon and saw my hair. It was the most natural it’d been since I’d started dying it. We paid and left, but he wouldn’t look at me. I didn’t think it was that bad. His strides were long and quick. I had a hard time keeping up with him.

“Blake!” I dug my heels into the ground. “What’s wrong? You haven’t mentioned anything about my hair. Do you not like it?” And there was that insecure teenage girl again. He grunted but didn’t say anything else. He took my hand and started walking to the car again. I stayed frozen, refusing to move, and refusing to let him move me. Dropping his hand and crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Talk!”

He let out a frustrated groan and then looked around, searching for something. His eyes lit up. He must’ve found what he was looking for. Probably a ditch to throw his ugly girlfriend in. He grabbed my arm, pulling me toward an alcove between two stores.

“You think I don’t like your hair?”

I nodded, pouting as I gazed up at him.

He looked around again before he cleared his throat. Gently, he tugged on my hand and led it down to his crotch, where I could feel how hard he was. I bit my lip, containing my moan at the feel of him in my hand.

He raised his arms, flattening his palms on the wall on either side of my head. “Does that feel like I don’t like it?” he whispered in my ear. “I need to get you back to our room, Chloe. Now.”

“Oh my God!” I quickly snapped on my bra and pulled on my shorts. “We’re gonna miss Hoosiers.”

He laughed, lazily shrugging his shirt back on. “I’ve seen it a million times. I can tell you exactly what happens.”

“That’s not the point. I want to see it. I want to see it with you. I want to fall in love with basketball the way you have. I want to feel what it feels like for you.”