“He’s a coach, and he’s probably like twenty four,” Ryan says, punching a number into the keyboard in front of us.
“Please,” I say. “You honestly don’t think he’s hot?”
“I do,” Ryan says. “But, as your best friend, I’ll let you call dibs. Plus, he probably doesn’t swing my way.” Ryan forms his best pouty face. We’ve been sitting at a score table running basketball games for five straight hours, and a little eye-candy is more than refreshing.
I roll my eyes. “Give me twenty-two,” I say to Ryan.
“Twenty-four was pushing it,” Ryan says, giving me a playful slap on the shoulder. “I’ll give you twenty-three, no less.”
“I’ll settle,” I say with a laugh. “Plus, I’m eighteen now, so it wouldn’t be illegal.”
“You turned eighteen, literally two hours ago,” Ryan laughs.
“Still eighteen,” I tease. “It’ll happen, just watch.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Ryan asks, raising an eyebrow.
“His entire team is pretty cute,” I say.
“You’re such a flirt,” Ryan says, rolling his eyes.
“It’s not like I’m actually going to go all the way,” I laugh. “I’ve only done it twice, so I’m far from being a slut.”
“I never said you were a slut,” Ryan protests.
“You were thinking it,” I jab back, knowing it’s all fun and games.
****
“Aria,” Mr. Bailey’s voice comes from behind me. Before turning around, I silently roll my eyes. Mr. Bailey, our school’s athletic director, is always looking to push work onto someone else.
“Can you take this to the Valley coach,” he hands me a receipt.
“Sure,” I say, my spirits lifted. Cunning thoughts start to form in my head. “No problem,” I add as I turn and head down the hallway.
I pull my shirt down, making my v-neck athletic shirt appear deeper. A little tug here and a little tug there. My C-cup breasts have already been pushed up against my Nike sports bra and they’re playfully poking through my v-neck. My short jean shorts show off my long legs.
Before turning the corner I flip my hair and run a hand through it, giving it a sexy, wild look.
I walk towards the Valley High School team, passing several teams on my way. I get a few whistles and a few suggestive questions, followed by a scolding from the coaches.
I get to the end of the hallway. “Coach,” I say, dropping my voice slightly and drawing out the word.
“Yes,” he turns around and almost jumps at the sight of me. I catch his eyes on my cleavage and smile a little.
He clears his throat and his eyes make their way up to my face again. “This is from Mr. Bailey,” I say, handing him the receipt.
“Thanks,” he says. “Can I get your name, again?”
“I never gave it in the first place,” I laugh. “It’s Aria.”
Snickers come from the group of basketball players behind him. I know I look a lot older than I am, so I’m sure he’s guessing I’m at least 21.
“Isaiah,” he says.
I nod and turn and start walking away, slowly.
“Damn, coach,” one of the players says.
“Lady Killer,” another laughs. I roll my eyes as I continue walking.
“I’m glad I don’t have to spend another bus ride with you dumb asses,” the Coach says. “Take your bags, get into your cars and go home. I’ll see you at practice next week.”
*****
I’m about to open the door to my black Camero when a hand stops me.
“Sorry about the boys,” the voice says.
I look up and see Isaiah; he’s even more attractive up close. He has big, brown eyes, dark tanned skin, and black hair. He’s probably around six feet tall, which looks huge compared to my five-foot two-inch body frame.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I used to go to school with boys just like them.”
Isaiah’s face gets hot. “Shit,” he says. “I’m sorry, I um…”
I laugh. “I turned eighteen today and I graduated a few months ago.”
“I still don’t know if that makes this,” he pauses. “Acceptable.”
“What is this?” I say. “We’re just two people, talking.”
“Happy Birthday, by the way,” he says.
“Thanks,” I laugh. “So, how big is this age gap we’re talking about?”
“I’m twenty-three,” he says.
“Damn,” I say. “Ryan was right again.” I make a mental note to tell my friend later.
“Ryan,” Isaiah asks.
I shake my head. “It’s a long story.”
*****
“I love the smell of hotels,” I say when he unlocks the room. He had explained he would be staying in town an extra night before making the trip back; he had some business to attend to in the morning anyway.
“Are you sure your parents aren’t going to be worried if you aren’t home till late,” he asks me.
“They’re in California for some company trip thing,” I say, sitting down on the bed.
He lies down on the opposite side and turns on the TV, leaving the volume on low. He’s about to change the channel when Shrek comes on. “I love this movie,” I giggle, my inner little kid showing through.
I turn towards him and look into his eyes. “You’re beautiful, you know that,” he whispers.
“I’m not beautiful,” I say.
“You are,” Isaiah murmurs. “You have to be, I fell in love with you, and I never fall in love.”
I bring my lips to his, cutting off his last few words.
“Didn’t your boys refer to you as a, Lady Killer?” I laugh, hardly pulling his lips away from mine.
Isaiah just rolls his eyes. Even though I’ve only known him for a few hours, I feel like I’ve known him forever.
I kiss him again, pulling him closer and closer to me. He slips a hand underneath me, pushing me sideways so my body rolls over on top of him. I tug at his shirt and pull it off him, running my cold hands over his chest. His muscles shiver at the touch of my cold skin. I look him up and down, taking in his ripped body, his abs forming a V that curls into his jeans.