Just a Game » Dave East

seven.

I stood in front of the mirror adjusting my shirt. It was one I never would have bought it for myself, but it was a Christmas present from Kayla and I had to admit it looked really good on me. The emerald green silk hung loose to my hips, but the wide, deep-scooped neck made it cling to my curves invitingly as long as I could keep my boobs from falling out. With my tight dark jeans and just a touch of makeup, I thought I looked pretty damn sexy and my heart beat faster in anticipation of the evening.

Me and Antonio were having a little New Years Eve party. Our parents would be home tomorrow, so we didn't plan anything huge, but we both wanted to catch up with old classmates who were in town for the holidays and decided that it would be safer for both us and our friends to have everyone get together at our house rather than going out somewhere. As happy as I was to see everyone though, I had to admit that wasn't really what I was excited about.

Me and Dave hadn't really even had a chance to speak to each other since that night I'd gone to his house. With Jasmine gone, Antonio was around all the time and Dave was in and out, but I suspected he might be avoiding me. Or if not actively avoiding me, he wasn't making any effort to sneak around and get me alone the way he had that first couple of days.

It was alright with me, since I'd determined not to take such risks with him after what had happened that night with Antonio's other homeboy, but as far as I knew, Dave didn't know anything about that so I couldn't help but wonder why he was distancing himself.

I didn't think he was upset with me. He didn't act cold or awkward when he was there—he joked around and teased me just like normal. And a few times I caught him staring at me and he winked and gave me a secretive smile.

The day before I'd walked in the front door and ran right into him as he was about to head up the stairs. He looked like a deer caught in headlights and started to turn and continue up the stairs, but I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him into the living room. 

"Is everything alright?" I asked quietly.

His expression softened and he wrapped his arms around me. My hands slid automatically up his sides under his t-shirt. His skin was warm and soft and I couldn't help following his ribs around to his back and pulling him closer as he breathed into my hair.

"Yeah, of course. Are you still thinking?" he asked in a low whisper as he kissed along the column of my neck.

"I told you my mind was already made up," I said, pulling back to look him in the eye so he knew I meant it. "Are you still thinking?"

His gaze remained locked with mine. "I can't stop."

With a frustrated groan he let his arms slip away and damn near ran out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time while I stood there wondering what the hell he meant by that. But despite his vague words, the way he looked at me made it pretty clear he wasn't going to change his mind so I was confident that we were still on.

And now it was almost time for the party and I was a crazy mixture of excited anticipation and anxious nerves. I wasn't going to back out, no question about that, but the vague ache underneath the excitement told me I had reason to worry.

I was falling for him. Or falling harder. My crush before had been pure fantasy, leftover teenage hormones. Now that we had spent time together, talked, actually got to know each other as adults and not memories of kids who didn't exist anymore, I realized I really did like him. He was more thoughtful than I'd ever given him credit for, given his general goofiness, and his views on relationships had actually made quite an impression on me.

We had fun together, and not just when we were naked. He joked with me and, even better, laughed when I teased him back. When we talked he actually listened as if what I had to say was important and responded like he honestly wanted me to understand his point of view. It was refreshing.