Trying to Hate the Player: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (Love on the Court Book 2)

by Tia Souders

  “Okay.” Dean clapped his hands, a poor attempt at diffusing the tension, and shot her a warning glare. “I’ll get more before I stop by tomorrow. In the meantime, maybe Emmett and I should get going.”

  “Great idea.”

  Emmett flashed her a brilliant smile. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, slim.”

  Jinny inhaled through her nose. Deep breaths, she told herself. Deep. Calming. Breaths.

  Dean threw on a t-shirt and kissed Callie goodbye, then he headed out the door, with Emmett trailing behind. Once they were out of earshot, Jinny turned to Callie and squeezed her eyes closed as she tried to translate her monumental levels of annoyance into words. “How?”

  “He went for a shot, and something happened. His knee just gave out.”

  When she opened her eyes again, Callie shrugged, and Jinny had to clench her fists in an effort not to lunge forward and shake her. How could this be happening? Why her? Why now?

  “When is his surgery?” Jinny asked, her head spinning.

  “He saw the orthopedist briefly today. He’ll have to do a week of pre-op therapy first, so his surgery is a week from tomorrow.”

  Jinny scrubbed her hands over her face and laughed. “So, he will literally be ready for PT right around my start date.”

  Jinny threw her hands up and took a swig of her wine. She had hoped he’d start therapy earlier. Maybe, then, there would have been a chance of his continuing therapy with someone else. But now her chances of pawning him off on a coworker were slim.

  “Maybe they won’t have you working with the team right away.” Callie offered with a bland smile. But her expression told Jinny that even she didn’t believe what she was saying.

  “Fat chance. I’m certified and have a master’s in science. It’s not like I’m a fresh undergrad. Trust me, they’ll throw me right in there. I already spoke with Bannon today. They have a couple part-time guys who work with the team at home, but they have yet to find a full-time therapist.”

  “What about the training and performance guy? What’s his name?”

  “Gabriel Swanson?” Jinny asked, and Callie nodded in response. “Nope. I mean, if they hadn’t hired me, I’m sure he’d step in, but his main job is focused on training and conditioning, not working the injured list. He gets them ready, keeps them at their peak performance, and focuses on injury prevention. I’ll do some preventive care, too, but rehabilitation will be my full-time gig. This is all me.”

  Callie stepped forward and patted her on the arm. “Well, you were bound to work together at some point. At least you’ll have the upper hand, right? You’re the therapist, calling the shots. He’s kind of in a vulnerable position. He’ll be relying on you.”

  Jinny pursed her lips and murmured her agreement. If only. With Emmett, she never felt like she had the upper hand. It was one of the gazillion reasons she avoided him whenever she could. She doubted the word vulnerable was even in his vocabulary.

  “Regardless, we need to celebrate,” Callie said, interrupting her thoughts. “You’re amazing, and I’m so proud of you.” She raised her glass, and Jinny followed suit. “To my best friend. To you,” Callie said. “You’re the smartest, most driven woman I know, and you are going to kick butt at your new job.”

  Jinny grinned. “And no more counting change for fast food. I’ll finally make some real money.”

  “Yes, no more Ramen, and may Betsy be put to rest.”

  “Hallelujah,” Jinny said, then frowned. “Wait. I like Betsy.”

  Callie laughed and clinked her glass to Jinny’s. “Hey, wait. I have these fancy chocolates Dean bought me.” She scurried off to the cupboard and returned with an ornate wooden box. When she lifted the lid, Jinny inhaled the sugary scent and her mouth watered. The tops of the chocolates were painted and swirled with beautiful designs. They looked more like mini paintings than food.

  Jinny plucked one out with glee. The only thing better than fancy food was free food. Man, it would be hard getting used to actually having livable wages.

  “Must be nice to have an NBA star for a fiancé,” Jinny said.

  “It has its perks.”

  Jinny snickered and popped the chocolate in her mouth.

  “I don’t understand why you and Emmett hate each other so much,” Callie said. “When the team first formed, it seemed like you two might hit it off.”

  Jinny allowed the chocolate to melt in her mouth, taking time to enjoy the lush flavor before thoughts of Emmett could turn it to mud.

  She thought back to last year’s end-of-season barbeque at Coach Garrison’s house. Emmett, much to her surprise, had flown solo. Devoid of the estrogen that usually clung to his arm, Emmett had seemed more charming and approachable, so Jinny had decided to get to know him better. He and Dean were becoming close, so it would’ve been nice if they all could become friends. Call her crazy, but there was even a fleeting moment that Jinny thought maybe they could be more than that.

  They’d hit it off. Other than his obvious good looks, she found his ambition attractive and thought they might have a lot in common. She caught a minor glimpse of the man behind the ball and liked what she saw. For a moment, she had imagined his arrogance was all an act. Maybe he wasn’t a player on and off the court. She thought he was far more than that.

  When he returned, after taking a rather long time getting them drinks—which she now surmised was due to getting sidetracked by a pretty blonde—he proved her wrong. After a strained conversation about where they saw themselves in the future, she filled him in on her residency at the University of Pittsburgh. She had just received her master’s in sports therapy, was putting in time as a resident at the university, and would be studying for the SCS later that year. She confided in him that she was a contender for the sports therapist position for the Pumas. If she proved herself and earned her certification, she was a shoo-in. Or so she hoped.

  She remembered how he’d snorted in response. Snorted!

  Then, killing any chance of friendship with one solid blow, he said, “Yeah, well. Some of us earned our spot at the top.”

  His words hit like a sucker punch to the gut, and her smile faded. “Excuse me?” Surely, she’d misheard him or misconstrued the meaning behind his words.

  “Well, we can’t all have connections like you. I mean, a brother who plays for the NBA team you’re applying to, and a father who is the athletic director of the University of Pittsburgh? Come on. Like you’re not going to get that job. If the team wanted somebody with merit, they could have anyone. Surely, there are more qualified people with more experience.”

  She flinched. Ice filled her veins. Any interest she’d felt before was extinguished the second the words left his mouth.

  “My connections will hardly be the thing to get me the job.”

  Emmett merely raised a brow, like he didn’t believe her, and took a sip of his beer.

  Heat flooded her cheeks as she clenched her fists, restraining herself from beating him with them. “I have a master’s in physical therapy. Not to mention, I’ve been working with athletes for over a year in my residency. It’ll be more than two years by the time I get my sports certification, a title that under two percent of physical therapists in the entire country have earned. Under two percent,” she repeated. “So, no, I won’t be getting that position because of my family. And you know what? You can take your assumptions and your holier than thou attitude and eat them, you a-class jerk.”

  Emmett’s eyes flashed with an emotion she didn’t recognize. Not surprising, considering she hardly knew him, but his arrogance was appalling. His gentleman act had crumbled to reveal his true character.

  She brushed past him, hating how humiliated she felt. He was the one that should be embarrassed. Nevertheless, his words hit their mark. They stung. It was her reward for dropping her guard with someone like him.

  What was that obnoxious saying her mother always used? If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a frickin’ duck, it’s a duck
. Prior to the barbeque, Emmett had acted like a player and a womanizing jerk, so she should’ve known that was exactly who he was. No amount of showboating could change that, and ever since that afternoon at the party, he had shown her nothing less.

  Maybe what he said wouldn’t have stung so bad if a tiny part of Jinny didn’t fear it was true. Maybe his assumptions wouldn’t have hurt if there were no basis to them. At the end of the day, Jinny couldn’t deny who her brother and father were. There was nothing she could do about that. All she could do during college, and in the two years after, was work her tail off in the hopes that if the opportunity presented itself, then she would have truly earned it. And she had done that.

  So, why did his words still haunt her?

  “Do I really need to list my reasons?” Jinny asked, pushing her thoughts of that sticky summer day aside. “He doesn’t like me because I call him out on his crap. I’m not one of his little concubines that follow him around like a sad-eyed puppy. I don’t like him because he is cocky and way too full of himself. The man thinks he walks on water. He has a new woman on his arm every time you turn around, and he’s beyond rude.” She flicked her gaze toward the empty beer bottle.

  Callie frowned. “I don’t kno—"

  “He’s degrading and a jerk. He’s everything I can’t stand about the male sex. Everyone can see that.”

  Callie eyed her over the rim of her glass. “Uh-huh.”

  “I don’t know why it’s so surprising. You’ve been around him.”

  “I have. And he’s not that bad. Maybe you just need to get to know him.”

  Jinny shook her head. “No. I don’t need to get to know him. And I don’t plan to. I’ll be a professional. I’ll help rehabilitate his knee to as good as new because I am amazing, and because I need to prove myself to Garrison. And the sooner I help Emmett heal, the sooner he’ll be on his way, so I can continue to do my job without that parasite sucking the lifeblood out of me.”

  Callie chuckled. “Wow, okay.”

  Jinny flashed her a smug smile and took a sip of her drink.

  “You know,” Callie said, “maybe the problem is that you two are too much alike.”

  “Say that again, and you’re dead to me.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Emmett

  Emmett sunk down onto his bed and leaned his crutches up against his nightstand. With a sigh, he bent forward and unstrapped the brace from his knee. Most of the pain had subsided into discomfort, but it still scared him.

  He swung his legs up and under the blankets, being careful not to bend his left knee. Once he leaned back against the headboard, the tension in his back melted away. If he remained this stiff until surgery, they might as well work on his spine, too.

  He growled and turned on the television, flicking through the channels on autopilot, and stopped on the highlights reel on ESPN. Bracing himself, he watched for several minutes before they started on today’s game. His likeness stared back at him. He was used to seeing himself on the big screen, but as they replayed that fateful moment in today’s game, his stomach clenched tight. His palms grew damp as he leapt into the air, ball flying to the hoop, then came the sickening moment his knee gave out.

  He gasped on the ground, clutching his knee in agony. Several minutes later, his teammates helped him off the court.

  Emmett’s heart thudded in his chest. Swallowing, he flicked the television off as the sports news commentators started speculating on his injury and what it would mean for his career.

  He couldn’t listen.

  The Pumas wouldn’t be making the final round of playoffs, and he’d injured himself. Talk about tough breaks. Though, he supposed he should be grateful. It could’ve been worse. This could’ve happened at the beginning of the season. At least they were done for the summer.

  But the thought did little to penetrate his grim mood.

  He’d researched ACL tears and recovery time and consulted the orthopedist. Six months he’d be out, which meant he’d not only miss the beginning of next season, but he wouldn’t be able to train and condition this summer either.

  Surely, an athlete of his stature would be an exception, right? The thought was a feeble attempt at assuaging his anxiety, and he knew it. Still, he’d have the best care money could buy. That had to count for something. He could whittle that time down. Make it five months instead of six. It was imperative he get back to the game as soon as possible. He loved basketball too much not to play. He’d lived and breathed the sport since the age of two. How could he go without? More than half a year of sitting on the sidelines was a death sentence.

  There was only one option. He’d heal faster than most. He’d make sure of it. All he needed to do was keep his focus.

  But that was easier said than done if Jinny Kimball would be at the helm of his care. Of all the luck…

  His thoughts flickered to her, and he replayed their confrontation in her apartment. The glint of anger in her eyes at the news that Emmett would be among her first patients was unmistakable.

  He couldn’t blame her for being irritated. Last summer, when he “cooled things off” at the Pumas end-of-season barbecue, he had been particularly ruthless. He’d gone to the party hoping she was there. It was the entire reason he’d gone stag. The brown-eyed beauty had caught his eye on more than one occasion, so when he sought her out and they’d clicked, he’d been pleased.

  It wasn’t just her petite figure or the long dark hair and chocolate eyes that held his attention. Her appeal went way beyond looks. She was freakishly smart, though she didn’t flaunt it. Instead, she had a quiet intelligence he caught glimpses of through conversation. And whether it was the fact that her brother also played for the Pumas, or because Jinny was entirely difficult to impress, she wasn’t instantly wooed by his NBA star status. In fact, it didn’t much impress her at all. Unlike the other girls, who were always vying for his attention, she wasn’t out for the title of NBA-star girlfriend. And she couldn’t care less about his money. It only took twenty minutes of conversation with her to surmise she was content living off her paltry residency wages and calling her shoebox of an apartment home. Jinny Kimball, simply put, was a simple woman who enjoyed the little things in life. And he loved it.

  Until he bumped into Dean at the bar and was on the receiving end of the not-so-subtle talk. Dean made it clear his sister was absolutely off-limits. And if he didn’t back off, Emmett got the impression Dean would have him by the—let’s just say, Emmett valued his reproductive parts. Even more, Emmett valued the team. His friendship with Dean aside, Emmett would never jeopardize their performance on the court. The Pumas had come out of the gate hard. They had taken the NBA by storm and had exceeded everyone’s expectations. No way would he mess with that. Not for a woman. Not for anything. No matter how badly he wanted Jinny.

  So, when he returned to her at the party, he’d ripped the bandage off fast. He said the nastiest thing he could think of to repulse her.

  It worked.

  Though what Emmett hadn’t expected—what surprised him—was how bad it hurt to watch her walk away. He still couldn’t make sense of it. Maybe because it was the first time he’d met a woman that seemed interested in him—not the captain of the high school basketball team, or the Boston College star, or the Puma. Him.

  Now, his injury and her new position as the Pumas sports therapist would thrust them together for weeks on end. Months.

  He was completely screwed.

  Six months of keeping his hands off of her, despite the fact that hers would be all over him during their sessions. Months on end of refraining from kissing her soft lips. Weeks of enduring her witty retorts and biting comments, which he secretly loved. It would be six months of pure torture.

  He’d better brush up on his aversion techniques. Because he’d need them.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jinny

  The three weeks since receiving her official SCS certification had flown by. Yesterday, Jinny bid her residency goodbye and tour
ed the Pumas’ state-of-the-art gym and physical therapy facilities. Today would be her first day as the official team therapist.

  Jinny smoothed her pale-gray slacks and silk blouse. She glanced around her office, almost in disbelief. A huge plaque with the Pumas logo hung behind her desk, but the remaining space was bare, the walls painted a neutral cream. Her gaze rested on the empty wall to her right, imagining her framed credentials in a place of honor—diplomas, master’s degree, SCS certification. It was surreal. She could hardly believe she had turned her dreams into reality.

  Today felt like day one of the rest of her life.

  She glanced down at the schedule on her newly appointed laptop. It was almost nine a.m. and the start of working hours. The first patient on her roster was Emmett. Of course, his first day of physical therapy coincided with her first one on the job.

  Talk about starting your day off on the wrong foot.

  She gave herself a pep talk as she waited for him to arrive. She went over his file a billion times. She knew his medical chart like the back of her hand. His prognosis was good. Treatment would be pretty standard for ACL recovery and should proceed smoothly, with nothing out of the ordinary. So, why was her stomach all tangled in knots?

  Nerves were to be expected. It was her first day, and she wanted to prove herself. She wanted to show Garrison, Bannon, Swanson, and all the team staff that she was more than qualified for the job. She’d be the only female on-staff. It was both an honor and intimidating, but she had earned her rightful place behind this desk, and she’d prove it every day on the job until they handed her that shiny contract to sign.

  She just needed to get through the next forty minutes without killing her first patient. Homicide was not the first impression she wanted to make.

  Someone knocked on her door, and she glanced up to see Gabriel Swanson, director of strength and conditioning, her new coworker.