Hooped #3 (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series, Book #3) by Claire Adams

be my friend
anymore, I would at least have the guy I liked in my life.

 
    Chapter
Eight
    True to her word, Lisa came in a few minutes early and
took over the few tables I still had in my section, clocking in and introducing
herself to my customers, promising that she would share the tips with me and
urging me to make tracks. I shot out of the restaurant like a shot, going
through the back so that my tables wouldn’t think that I was in a hurry because
of them. My cheerfulness had won me more tips than I knew what to do with, and
I decided that I’d count them all out later—I needed to get back to my room,
get out of my work clothes, and into something cute to wear to the game, all in
a span of fewer than forty minutes.
    Kelly was nowhere to be seen when I catapulted myself
through the door of our dorm room, and I was relieved; the last thing I wanted
was to be held up by another argument with her. I got into my side of the dorm
and stripped off my clothes as fast as I could, spritzing a little bit of
perfume on my neck, my wrists, my cleavage, and my hips to get rid of the pizza and fried food smell I knew was clinging to
me; I didn’t have time to take a shower. I rummaged through my closet and
drawers as quickly as I could, picking out a cute skirt that fell to just above
my knees along with a tee shirt, in school colors. I kept my hair the way it
was, reasoning that there was no need to waste time taking it down and taming it; I put on a little bit of lipstick
and slipped on a pair of ankle-high boots and decided that it was good enough.
Devon had seen me naked—he wanted to see me having a good time watching him,
not dressed up like I was going to a party. I made sure I had my ID in my purse
and hurried down the stairs, thankful that I hadn’t made the mistake of wearing
heels.
    My heart was pounding in my chest as I rushed across
campus, walking so fast I might as well have been running, checking my phone
every few moments to make sure I wasn’t going to be late. I had cash with
me—mostly my tips from the evening—just in case there was some kind of problem
with the ticket that Devon had asked them to hold for me at the box office.
    I was out of breath by the time I got to the box
office, my student ID out and my cash ready at hand. Almost everyone was
already inside, save for the people milling around for a last cigarette, their
tickets already purchased or claimed. “Hi,” I said, taking a few deep breaths
to calm the rapid flutter of my heart. “I was told there was a ticket on hold
for me?” The woman behind the glass smiled.
    “Can I have your ID, please? I can check and see if you’re on the list.” I nodded and slid my ID
onto the counter. I could hear the noise from inside the arena—the game hadn’t
started yet, but people were already starting to get warmed up, excited, ready
to cheer. The woman in charge of the box office took my ID and pulled out a
printed list, looking over the names. “Ah—yep, here you are. Lucky girl, you’ve
got court-side seats!” She grinned at me and I knew she knew that I was seeing
someone on the team—of course, I thought, the guys on the team would have
probably a handful of great tickets at their disposal for friends and family
members to use.
    I took my tickets and my ID and hurried into the
arena; I could hear the announcement that the two teams would be taking the
court for their warm-ups in a matter of minutes. Looking down at my ticket, I
figured out the section I was in and rushed to that part of the arena, hoping
against hope that I could make it to my seat before Devon took the court and
looked around for me. I ran through the corridor and down the stairs, nearly
tripping over my own feet in the process, and found my seat.
    I was panting for breath as I stumbled down into the
chair, looking out on the court to see
what was going on. The cheerleaders were still whipping the crowd on both sides
into a frenzy; I had gotten to my seat just in time.