‘Yeah, do that really horny thing you see in the movies, where men teach women sport and basically hump them,’ I reply.
‘You want me to… hump you?’ he replies, smirking, one eyebrow raised.
‘I want them to see you humping me,’ I reply – phrasing! ‘I mean, I want them to see us humping… to see you and me, you flirting with me, or whatever. Honestly, men are usually much quicker to accept general invitations to do stuff like this.’
‘My reputation is bad enough,’ he replies. ‘And I don’t want to get put on a list. But, go on then, seeing as though it’s you. I’m sure it works better for golf, snooker – even cricket, if you’re batting. But basketball…’
‘You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out,’ I reply.
Our laughing and joking always seems to edge into flirtatiousand it’s like I’m getting so into character, my brain starts to think it’s real, which isn’t ideal for me, but it’s great for the performance we’re putting in.
As I try out my grip on one of the balls (everything sounds dirty now), Brody sidles up behind me, his hands finding my waist with ease as he presses his body up against mine. His chin rests on my shoulder, his warm breath tickles my neck.
I knew he’d be good at it – just not this good.
He adjusts my arms, gently guiding the ball into position.
‘Try to relax your wrists – and everything else,’ he tells me. ‘Bend your knees a little. Yeah, just like that.’
I do as I’m told, which only makes me back up into him even closer. I know, I know, it’s an act, I asked him to do this, but it’s very confusing for basically every sense I have.
It’s a game. It’s all pretend. This is for show – for them, not for me, I’m not getting anything out of this except smug satisfaction. I remind myself of that on a loop as I feel every inch of him pressed against me.
If this weren’t for show, if he really was flirting with me, this would be so, so hot.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, get a room!’ Al teases us, shielding his eyes dramatically. ‘This is a basketball court, there’s no fourth base here.’
‘We’ve got a room,’ Brody calls back. ‘This is just the warm-up.’
‘Yeah, except you’re sharing a room with us,’ Nikki snaps. ‘And I think we’ve both had enough of your little… sexploits, thanks.’
Sexploits.
I’m not even looking at her but I can feel her glare burning holes in me. If looks could kill, I’d certainly be dead.
‘Ignore them, focus on me, my body guiding yours, and make the shot,’ Brody tells me.
I focus on his body a little too hard because I miss the basket so spectacularly, it was probably technically closer to going through the hoop at the other end of the court.
‘It wouldn’t be fair, if you were hot and good at sport,’ he tells me, very much for our audience’s benefit.
‘But you are,’ I reply.
‘Lucky you,’ he says with a smile.
I don’t even care that I missed – and that I’ll probably miss every shot – because this isn’t about scoring points on the court, it’s about scoring points off it. Whether we win at basketball makes no difference, we’re winning the ex wars, and that’s the only battle I care about. Todd looks so miserable and Nikki looks so angry – if it’s just a taste of how they made me and Brody feel, it’s a fraction of what they deserve.
‘Okay, let’s play, before this turns into an orgy,’ Kira jokes.
We start playing and I’m surprised how fast-paced and chaotic it is. Everyone is moving like they’re fighting for their lives, and yet it’s so unserious, and so much fun. Well, it is until it isn’t. Todd is getting more into it, playing like a man who has something to prove, and while playing the game might be child’s play for Brody, most of his effort is going into thwarting Todd’s. They’re using Al like a sort of goalie, having him stand by the net, ready to reach up and bat the balls away, so it takes speed to get around him, but between Brody and Kelsey, they’re running rings around him.
I’ve touched the ball a couple of times, never for long before I offload it, but even I’m having fun. Perhaps I should have paid more attention, when Brody was showing me how to throw, but I think he was giving me a fake horny lesson, rather than a real one.
The ball comes to me and I panic, flinging it towards Brody, but making it almost impossible for him to catch.
‘We’re aiming for the basket, not the sea,’ Brody teases me.
‘Sorry, I was just so distracted by your big… arms,’ I reply with a grin.
