Tori’s telling us all about the new location site for Camp New Hope-Norfolk, so I smile and nod every few seconds like I’m listening.

I glance down at my phone between all the smiling and nodding.

Jake: I’m off Wednesday and Thursday. Just let me know what you need.

I can’t help but smirk this time. Sucker.

I make a mental note to stop at the drugstore and pick out a cheesy card about true love to send to my brother and sister-in-law. That’s the extent of my anniversary celebration plans for those two, but Jake doesn’t need to know that.

And now I know which nights he won’t be at The Oak this week.

I have every intention of persuading Dempsey Haas to jump into bed with me. In fact, it’s my new personal mission. I’m even more optimistic now that I know Jake won’t be there to interfere with my plan.

Rhett thinks I’ll be bored sitting around all summer. Little does he know that I’ve just set an audacious goal and kicked off a massive project for myself.

Operation: Hot Haas Summer is officially a go.

10. Dempsey

Chapter 10

Dempsey

The shit talking on the courts has already begun when I swipe into the rec. I peek over the ledge and grin.

Our court reservation doesn’t start for twenty minutes. But since most of the guys in my league are retired or work for themselves, they’re always here early, staking it out and “warming up,” as they like to say, sweatbands and knee braces securely in place as they heckle the college-age players.

I hit the locker room and change quickly, stashing my phone, towel, and water bottle in the bag I’ll take to the bench.

My brother’s already sent me two selfies in full gear. One of the reasons I still participate in these basketball games with my dad’s old buddies is because I can usually convince Field to come up to Holt with me. I drop him off at the ice rink where he shows off during open skate or joins a pickup hockey game, then I spend two hours sweating it out and not worrying about anything except what’s happening on the court.

“Ready to kick some ass today, hot stuff?” Richard claps me on the shoulder when I scoot down the bench to join him.

As the youngest player by at least thirty years, I’m a highly sought-after floater. I don’t bother keeping track of whose team I’m on each week anymore. Richard and Marty make sure to let me know.

“I don’t know, Rich. I’ve been feeling a little rough this week.” I feign a grimace as I roll out my shoulders and fight back a smirk at the righteous indignation on his face.

“Dammit, Martin. You played the kid too hard last week. That’s hostile sabotage,” Richard admonishes.