I drop the tray table and prop my iPad on it before texting Katrina.
Me: Ready for our second date?
Kitty: New phone – who is this?
I balk.
Kitty: Kidding. Yes, I’m emailing you the movie now.
I pull up my email and laugh earning a side eye from Wes who sits next to me.
Me: I don’t think Saved by the Bell counts as a movie.
Kitty: Each episode is just over twenty minutes so we can watch a few so it’s the same amount of time. Season five is my favorite, but I think we should start at season three because it has the infamous prom episode I was telling you about.
I angle my iPad toward the window and plug in my headphones. If the guys catch me watching Saved by the Bell, they’re gonna give me all kinds of shit.
Me: Alright, Kitty, I’m pressing play. What’s your fascination with SBTB anyway?
Kitty: I have a sister that is fifteen years older than me. As you can imagine, we didn’t have a lot of things to bond over growing up, but when I got older and wanted to escape my parents, she’d let me come over to her place and we’d have movie nights where she’d introduce me to all her old favorites. The Princess Bride, Titanic, Clueless, Friends, Family Matters, and Saved by the Bell.
Me: That’s cool. Only the one sister?
Kitty: Yep.
We watch three episodes, mostly texting about funny things from the nineties – the hair, clothes, dancing, dear God the dancing. But I learn more about Katrina, too. Like for instance, she’s deep. I guess I should have known this since she’s a writer. Aren’t artists all good with their emotions and feelings and shit? Well anyway, she is. I like hearing what she thinks about things, even stupid things like how Mr. Belding is more of a father figure to Zack than his own dad.
Me: We’re pulling into the hotel.
Kitty: Oh, okay. Well good luck tomorrow.
Me: Trying to get rid of me?
Kitty: I assumed that meant you needed to go.
Me: Nah. Give me fifteen and I’ll call you before we turn in for the night?
Kitty: Sure.
I follow Nathan through the lobby and up to the third floor of the hotel where we’re staying. In the room, we toss our stuff on the beds.
“I’m gonna shower,” I tell him. I’ve got Kitty on the brain and I need a release before bed.
Nathan nods and digs out his cigarettes from his bag. “I’m going for a smoke.”
He leaves the room and I sit on the bed, taking out my phone and iPad. Wes and Z ride Nathan for his smoking habit and excessive partying, but it’s his life. As long as it doesn’t affect his performance or the team, it doesn’t bother me.
I turn Saved by the Bell back on. There are only a couple minutes left in the episode we’d been watching and dammit she’s got me wanting to know how the gang is going to tell Slater he’s a terrible deejay and… fuck my life.
I smile as I watch the cheesy ending and then undress ready to hit the shower before I call Kitty. I pick up my phone and decide to send her a pic while she waits. I don’t send girls dick pics, just my friends when we’re messing around. I admit that’s probably messed up, but whatever. I crop the picture so she can tell I’m naked, but she can’t see the goods and press send.
Before I can take the two steps to the bathroom, I get a text back. I’m grinning before I even pick the phone up anticipating her response. I expect a cheeky reply. Instead, she sends me a pic back and heat courses through my body and shoots to my dick.
She wears black leggings and a white tank top that doesn’t quite cover her stomach and dips down low enough up top that her tits perk up and beg to be noticed. My hand travels to my cock and fists it. I’m so painfully hard.
It’s a pleasant turn to my night. I’d thought I was going to have to use my imagination and the memories of her hot mouth, but now I’ve got new material.
I stroke myself slow, letting my gaze fall on her heart-shaped face and playful smirk. She’s taunting me with those full lips and mesmerizing eyes. Tightening my hold and quickening the pace, I rake over her body imagining what’s beyond the clothes but somehow loving that she’s not naked. I want to undress her myself, piece by piece, exploring new territory and laying claim.
My balls draw up and I’m so close.
“Woah. Fuck. Sorry man.” Nathan’s voice registers slowly only seconds before my release can take hold and I’m equal parts annoyed and pissed.
“I thought you were going for a cigarette,” I grit out, walking into the bathroom and covering myself with a towel.
“Sorry, man, just forgot a lighter.” He’s quiet for a minute and all I can hear is the soft sound of voices coming from my iPad. “Dude, were you jerking it to Saved by the Bell?”
I step out of the bathroom and grab my phone then turn off my iPad. “No. I just left it on.”
“Why were you watching it to start with? Kelly was hot. No judgment.”
“It sounds like fucking judgment.”
He chuckles, grabs a lighter from his bag and heads back to the door. “I will be back in thirty minutes. That enough time?”
Instead of answering, I flip him off, walk in the bathroom, and slam the door behind me.
Z nods his head in approval and claps his hands as he takes his place at the block and I walk toward the free-throw line. “Nice work. Let’s get that extra point.”
I take my shot and Arizona State calls a time out. We’re destroying them. Up twenty points at the half, in large part to me. Everything I throw up tonight finds net. Some nights are like that. Most aren’t.
I make the shot and the other team calls a timeout. Nathan and I bump fists as we take a seat on the sidelines.
“It’s alright cause I’m saved by the… it’s alright cause I’m saved by the bell,” he sings quietly with a fucking grin.
“Fuck off,” I say, but I’m smiling.
After Coach gives us a weak pep talk about running through the plays and tightening defense – there’s only so much inspiration you can muster when you’re blowing the other team out of the water – I head back out to the court seeing the cameras and announcers and wondering if Katrina is watching. She said she was, but I don’t know if that was just her feeding my ego.
The idea of her watching may have something to do with my stellar performance. I’m in a zone like I’ve never felt before. I’m always confident and ready to play, but a different sort of calm has settled over me tonight and the only difference I can pinpoint is her which doesn’t really make any sense, but I take my good luck charms very seriously.
Looks like my before game ritual has changed. From now on I need a little dose of Katrina before each game.
Katrina
“You’re my good luck charm,” Joel says and points a cocky smile at the screen.
He’s wearing headphones and leaning against the bus window. It’s still light out, but just barely, and the soft glow of his phone casts a shadow around him making it hard to see anything else.
“I doubt that very much, but I’m willing to take credit. Is there some sort of payment for my services?” I toss the snark at him before I’ve thought through my words and I can tell by the huge grin that breaks out on his face that I’ve played right into his hand.
“Actually, there is. A date with me. A real one – no phone required. I mean don’t get me wrong I’m loving using my phone for something besides texting and memes, but I think it’s hindering my charm. I’m best appreciated in person.”
I laugh against my better judgment. God, he’s ridiculous.
“I don’t have a sitter until next weekend.” I stop and wait for him to connect the dots – I’ve already checked and next weekend is no good – he has a game. “You have a game, so…”
“Let me take care of the details.”
Unease settles in the pit of my stomach. I’m sure he thinks he can just ask some random person to watch Christian, but that’s not going to work. I can count on one hand the people I’d trust with Christian and most of them live too far to pop over for a date night.
“Don’t worry,” he says as if reading my thoughts. “I have someone in mind that I think you will approve of, but I don’t want to say until I check. In the meantime, show me what you’re wearing?”
He moves his head like he’s trying to see past the bottom of my screen. I laugh but angle it out and down so he can see the leggings and Valley basketball t-shirt I’m wearing.
“I’ve got team spirit,” I say and wave my hand around with an imaginary pom.
“Screw team spirit as long as you’ve got Joel Moreno spirit.”
God, the way he says it sounds so hot and dirty my sex clenches.
“What’d you do tonight?” he asks, leaning his head back on the headrest, his black hair still wet from showering.
“Christian and I watched the game and ate pizza. He crashed early because he missed his nap two days in a row, so I was working on stuff for the play.”
“How’s that coming along?”
“Good. I think the script is just about finalized. They’re letting me sit in on rehearsals which is amazing.”
He stifles a yawn.
“I think you’re tired.”
He shakes his head in protest.
“I should go anyway. Christian doesn’t understand weekends are for sleeping in.”
We hang up and I lie in bed watching thirty minutes pass, then an hour. Then two. I’m tossing and turning and just about to give up on sleep altogether when a text lights up my phone.
Joel: Open your front door.
My heart pounds quickly and I sit up and fling back the covers. He can’t be.
I move through the house quietly without turning on any lights. When I reach the front door, I look through the peephole and inhale sharply.
“Open the door, Kitty.”
I step back quickly and hear him chuckle. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and stare at him, certain the surprise is written all over my face. My eyes scan up and down taking in the way his athletic pants and long-sleeved t-shirt make him look like an athletic god. “What are you doing here?”
“I realized something, and I had to come see you.”
Wrapping my arms around myself, I stay firmly on my side of the doorway and don’t offer to let him in. I haven’t really thought this through, but I know I don’t want Christian to wake up to someone he doesn’t know in the apartment. “What’s that?”
He steps forward and grips my hip, pulls me to him and leans down until I can feel his breath on my cheek. He smells of mint and leather and cold and the combination makes me shiver into his touch. Instead of answering my question, he brushes his lips over mine softly. So much softer than I ever would have thought Joel Moreno capable of. I can feel him smile on my lips and then he presses harder, beckoning me to open. His tongue sweeps in and I melt into him, thankful he’s got a tight grip on me because I feel ridiculously shaky.
He pulls back and leans his forehead against mine only loosening his hold on my hip slightly. “Tonight was our third date.”