Claiming Callie: Part two by Paige Rion Page B

shove cost him a three-pointer. Three baskets. Three roses.
    I have to make these.
    Dean sets up a couple feet off the free throw line. He draws in a deep breath and lets it out again. He wipes his palms on the bottom of his shoes, then accepts the ball when the referee throws it to him. He rolls his head on his neck, trying to loosen the tight muscles.
    He grips the ball, spins it once in his hand, and readies his shot. Ignoring the jests and screams from the Boston bleachers to his left, he rises on his toes and shoots. The ball is off slightly. Bouncing on the rim twice, it finally rolls into the net.
    He lets out a huff of air. Too c lose. Come on, relax, Dean.
    He pictures her sparkling blue eyes. Imagine what they m ust look like right now. I wish I could see her face. Read her expression.
    He receives the ball again and goes through the same process. This time he shoots and the ball easily swishes through the net. In the distance, he hears a woman scream. “That ’ s two roses. Come on, get her one more!”
    “Yeah. Three roses!” he hears another yell.
    Across from him, where the players line up in anticipation of the final shot, a Boston player mocks them. “Yeah. It ’ d be a shame if you missed this and lost a rose.”
    Dean glance s at Emmett. He ’ s standing two men deep, his expression easy. Unlike the other players, who are on the defense, ready to grab the ball and make a play if he misses, Emmett stands with his hands on his hips. Smiling at Dean, he shakes his head and nods towa rd the stands.
    Grinning back, Dean meets his gaze and spots Callie. She ’ s now standing on top of the bleachers next to the Panther mascot. They ’ re holding hands and wiggling their hips, dancing, while the Panther grips two roses in his right paw and the c rowd chants excitedly. His heart clenches at the sight . He should probably laugh or grin at the cute display, but he ’ s frozen. His heart comes to a complete stop as he watches her dance, her hair swishing over her face, her hips moving. She ’ s so completely beautiful.
     “Yo!” someone yells. Startled, Dean whips his head back to the referee, who passes him the ball without warning. He takes it and exhales. One more .
    He raises the ball in front of his body, and beside him the Panther crowd chants louder and beg ins to clap. “Three. Three. Three. Three.” Tension fists at the base of his spine, tightening all the muscles in his back. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face as he stares at the hoop. With a flick of the wrist, he lets the ball fly. It sails i nto the air, hits the backboard, and bounces into the net.
    Yes! Dean pumps a fist into the air, and the crowd goes wild.
    The clock counts down. Only a minute and a half left. Boston goes on to score another basket, but when the buzzer sounds Dean ’ s teammat es—all except Jason, whose scowl is larger than the opposing teams’—run from across the court and the bench to surround him. They pat him on the back and raise him in the air, carrying him across the huge gymnasium to the bleachers, riled by the crowds ’ cr ies.
    Dean finds Emmett below him and asks, “How many?”
    His friend is quick and knows without clarification what he wants. “ Twenty-nine. ”
    Dean nods, letting the corners of his lips curl. He hadn ’ t been able to count his baskets. But now he has one more thin g to do.
    His teammates lower him. He moves toward the bleachers, and the Panther mascot meets him halfway. As discussed prior to the game, he hands him one more rose.
    A flurry of cheers rises up around him before the crowd hushes completely when they see Dean look from the rose to Callie. The anticipation surrounding him is thick, blanketing him like a wool coat. His stomach clenches as his gaze locks on hers.
    She ’ s sitting next to Jinny, her blue eyes bright, sparkling like sapphires. Her blonde hair fall s in waves over her shoulders and glows golden under the bright lights, giving her an