Page 4 of For the Love of Scott
“First of all, I’ve seen you jump. You’re all over that kennel building, climbing on the roof, jumping fences—”
“Three foot fences! Jesus.” Scott throws his hands up. A three-year-old could jump those things.
“It’s still jumping.”
If it’d been daylight, Scott could see the bright blotches of color on Ben’s cheeks that always accompany an outburst. They’ve shared enough animated conversations over the last several months to know. At the moment, however, a conglomeration of reds, oranges, greens, and blues from the Christmas lights cover them both and camouflage any natural coloring.
Ben’s arms flap back and forth, back and forth. “C’mon, man. It’s a pick-up basketball game. What’s the big deal?”
Scott stills. He’d thought sports were a thing of his past, but Ben apparently has no such ideas. He clearly assumes Scott capable of anything a whole man could do. Scott can and does bounce around the kennel, hopping over the short fencing and bags of dog food or piles of random crap. But only the dogs see him when he falls on his ass.
For a casual game of basketball, the fluttery sensation in his chest seems kinda girly. But dammit if he doesn’t want to play. He sucks in a breath, the icy air biting his nostrils. “It’s not a big deal,” Scott finally says. And suddenly it isn’t. Ben has made it not a big deal.
“Then c-come on.” Ben bounces on the balls of his feet now, the cold really starting to get to him. “Sh-shit, it’s cold.”
“Shoulda put on a jacket, dumbass.”
“Up yours.” Ben jerks his chin up in a gesture. “You g-gonna play or not?”
There’s no stopping Scott’s grin. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll play.”
Ben’s dimples appear in response.
“G-great. S-see you tomorrow.” With that, he turns and runs toward the house.“Drive safe—”echoes across the space between them, and the bang of the screen door sounds a moment later.
Scott shakes his head and climbs into his truck. What the hell has he just agreed to?
