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Your POV
"You look good tonight," Ben said as he drove.
"Thanks," I said hiding my blush.
"Next game you should wear my jersey," he said and I chuckled.
"Maybe," I replied.
"Maybe?" he asked looking over at me as he came to a red light.
"I said what I said," I told him and he laughed.
"Anyways, why did you wanna take me out? I thought you like your coffee with nothing, but creamer. Literally no coffee. Just creamer," I said and he laughed.
"Really? You serious?" he asked.
"Yeah, you're not for known to date us negro girls," I said and he laughed again.
"You're something else. I really like you, Y/N. My heart be skipping beats when I see you and plus you're laid back. I know you like me," he said and I rolled my eyes. I did like him, but I wasn't going to tell him that.
"I'm only on a date with you because I lost a bet," I told him jokingly and he rolled his eyes.
"If that's the case, then I can take you home. No one is forcing you to come on this date. Matter of fact," he said and whipped the car around.
"Woah, that was illegal as fuck," I told him and he shrugged.
"It was, but you'd rather be at home. I'm not forcing you to go on a date with me. I'm not that kind of guy," he said softly and I realized I really hurt his feelings.
"Ben," I said.
"It's this street, right?" he asked me as he turned down the street to my house.
"I was right. This is the street," he said as he pulled into my driveway.
"Ben, if you were listening to my tone of voice, you would've known I was joking. But thanks for giving me a reason why we wouldn't work," I said grabbing my things before getting out of his car. I closed the door and walked up to my front door. I unlocked the door and when I was about to open it, I heard his car engine turn off. I walked inside and closed the door leaving it unlock because Ben was going to come inside. I put down my purse and went into the kitchen.
"Y/N," Ben yelled as he walked in the house.
"In the kitchen. Don't yell in my house and lock my door," I told him and I heard him smack his teeth. I took out the chicken that I was suppose to cook earlier, but didn't get the chance to because of my brother. I preheat the oven before I washed the icky feeling off of my hands.
"Why do you always do this?" he asked.
"Do what?" I asked him.
"Every time we're just enjoying each other's company, you have to say something that makes me think that you don't wanna be around me," he asked.
