Dominique’s head whipped around. Is this my son or a psychic sitting beside me? “What do you mean I didn’t want to leave?”

“Y’all kept talking when you got to the door. I think you like him.”

“Justin Demetrius Clark! Don’t you ever let me hear you say something like that again! Is that clear?” Belatedly, Dominique realized she might be overreacting and went back in for damage control. She loosened her death grip on the wheel. “What I mean, baby, is that I do like Coach Mac, the way friends like each other. The way you and your friend Alvin or your new teammate, Travis, get along.”

“Dag, Mom. What way do you think I mean?”

This potent question shut Dominique right up and if it hadn’t, the caller ID showing on her ringing phone surely would. She pulled into her garage as she answered. “Yes?”

“Still thinking about me?”

“Ha! So on your resume is a job titled ‘comedian. ’” Dominique remained in the car while Justin bounded into the house. “Either that or you’re exercising that overly confident professional athlete’s swagger.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Obviously, since you think you can melt a woman’s panties with a single glance or a single meal.” The fact that Dominique’s va-jay-jay could at this moment be renamed “the burning bush” was, in her mind, beside the point.

“Dominique, I need to apologize for what I suggested earlier. I stand by my belief that two grown people should be able to do what they want without strings or ties, but I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I may have overreacted a bit as well,” she quickly countered. “Two consenting adults can do as they please.”

“Then with that out of the way, why don’t you come over?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. And you know you want to. There’s no way you didn’t feel what I felt when we were together earlier.”

“What exactly did you feel?”

“Hum. I can show you better than I can tell you. Now quit playin’ and get over here.”