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

by Tia Souders

  Except one thing.

  The thing he had debated on the moment he left Bannon’s office. It would be a huge sacrifice.

  He and Jinny couldn’t have a relationship as long as they both worked for the Pumas, which meant one of them couldn’t be a Puma. Simple as that.

  He couldn’t ask her to ditch her dreams. He understood the trust they needed for a commitment to grow between them. But that didn’t mean one of them couldn’t make a sacrifice. He loved Pittsburgh. The Pumas were the team to hand him his dreams. His father and brothers visited regularly, and he had grown close to Dean and his other teammates. The thought of playing for anyone else slayed him. But sometimes, to get something you wanted, you had to give up something you loved. An eye-for-an-eye.

  Emmett opened the lock screen on his phone. His finger hovered over Bannon’s number. He hit send and waited as it rang, holding his breath.

  When Bannon answered, he exhaled and said, “I want you to trade me.”

  ∞∞∞

  Jinny

  Jinny stared at the Pumas team picture in her office. The one she had defaced weeks ago with Emmett’s devil horns and tail.

  She remembered how excited she was her first day, how much she anticipated being a part of the team. And now… The sight of Gabe’s face made her want to punch something (particularly him), and she found it more than difficult at the moment to muster her Puma-pride.

  To say she had been in a sour mood since Vegas two weeks ago was the understatement of a lifetime. She had been short and snippy with Callie. She worked Taylor harder than she should’ve in their session yesterday, calling him a baby when he complained it hurt, and she had all but flipped Bannon the bird when she passed him in the hall. She was a loose cannon, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

  With each day, her heart grew heavier.

  She longed to see Emmett. How many times in the last week had she picked up her phone and dialed his number? Each time, she’d quickly erase it before she summoned the courage to press send. After all, she would accomplish nothing by calling him. Hearing his voice would be a temporary salve on her wounds when all she wanted to do was fall into his arms.

  Emmett had been right. The jerk. He always was. Which made him all the more irritating. Jinny had fallen for him, and there was nothing she could do about it. It had started on the Fourth of July—maybe even before then—but somewhere between PT and Vegas, she had fallen head over heels.

  All in all, it had been a monumentally crappy two weeks, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. If only she could think of some way for things to work out.

  She racked her brain and came up empty.

  Dean didn’t help matters. Over the course of the last couple days, he seemed to do a 180. One outing with Emmett and a couple beers, and, suddenly, things were hunky-dory. Well, fan-friggin-tastic for them.

  He even had the nerve to tell her she might want to give Emmett a call, like the last two weeks hadn’t even happened.

  Yeah, he wasn’t winning brother of the year any time soon.

  Jinny’s office phone buzzed. She lifted it to her ear and answered.

  Gloria’s voice filled the line. “Hi, Jinny.”

  When she paused, Jinny rolled her eyes and twirled her hand as if to hurry her along.

  “Um,” she hesitated. “You have someone here to see you.”

  “Fine. I’ll be right out.” Jinny slammed the phone down.

  Well, no freakin’ duh she had someone to see her. Davis was due in five minutes for his appointment.

  She shoved away from her desk and straightened her shirt, reminding herself to put on a smile and be pleasant as she left her office and headed for the waiting room.

  When she paused in the open doorway, her gaze surveyed the lobby, and she froze.

  There, in the shadows, stood Emmett.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she drank him in. His dark hair was disheveled, and he wore his typical attire of athletic shorts and a plain t-shirt that he had absolutely no right looking that good in. When he raised his hand in greeting and his dimples popped, her knees nearly gave out.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the words stalled in her throat as his gaze slid over her features, taking her in like it might be his last chance.

  He exhaled and smiled, taking a step toward her. One, then another, and another, and before she could even comprehend what he was doing, he was inches away from her, crushing his mouth to hers.

  She breathed him in while his lips wreaked havoc on her psyche. He was all soap and freshly laundered clothes, with a hint of aftershave. Nothing had ever smelled so good.

  Sliding her hands to his chest, awareness crept in.

  She was in the waiting room of her workplace. Kissing Emmett. And he was off-limits.

  She pushed against his chest and pulled away through the ache in her chest. “What are you doing here. You can’t—”

  “I’ve been traded.”

  Jinny reeled back. “What?”

  Emmett stared into her eyes, the green flecks dancing in the light. “I’m no longer a Puma.”

  He paused, like he was waiting for her to catch up, but her brain was fried.

  She brought her fingers up to her temples and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Next season, I will be a Philadelphia 76er.”

  “But how?”

  Emmett shrugged, then reached out and intertwined his fingers in hers. “I asked for the trade, and I got it. I just found out this morning. You’re the first person I told, but I’d expect it to be all over ESPN by this afternoon.”

  Her stomach clenched. She wanted to hope. She wanted to believe she knew what this meant, but she needed to hear it. “Why?”

  “That’s easy. Some things are worth a sacrifice. And sometimes…you just know.”

  He dipped his head, kissing her as a sob caught in her throat. “And besides, now I can kiss you anytime I want.”

  He grinned before Jinny gripped his shirt, pulling him back to her.

  Epilogue

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  Jinny waited outside the Wells Fargo Center, where the Philadelphia 76ers just played and won against Washington.

  She tilted her head up to the clear blue sky and inhaled. There was nothing better than late November, especially fall days like this one, where the air was seasonably warm yet crisp. The scent of leaves and grass and autumn hung in the breeze, and the holidays loomed right around the corner.

  And, okay, maybe it was more than the weather or the 76ers amazing game that put the smile on her face. It didn’t hurt that she may be blissfully in love with a certain light-haired, whiskey-eyed point guard.

  “Here you are.” Emmett’s father handed Jinny a styrofoam cup, offering her a warm smile.

  His dark hair was sprinkled with a bit of gray, and crow’s feet hinted at the corners of his eyes, but overall, he was the spitting image of his middle child.

  “Thanks.” Jinny took a sip of the coffee then smiled. “I wonder how long we’ll have to wait. I imagine they’ll do another post-game interview.”

  “Probably. It’s good to see him on the court again, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  “And in his hometown, no less. I suppose I have you to thank for that.” He winked.

  He was a charmer, just like his son.

  “In a very roundabout way, but I don’t mind taking the credit.” She laughed.

  Emmett had spent the remainder of the summer with Jinny in Pittsburgh until pre-season, when he rented a place in Philly. Now, they’d fallen into a familiar rhythm. His weeks were spent traveling back and forth between the two cities, in between Pumas and 76ers games. It wasn’t always easy, and sometimes their schedules conflicted, but being in the NBA meant easier access to transportation and having the money at your disposal to travel on a whim.

  Jinny had only visited Philly a few times but had already grown to love all the Hall men. Watching Emmett and his
brothers when they got together was a bit like being at the circus. It was loud and chaotic and competitive—much like her own family—and she loved every single second of it. She fit right in with her dry wit, sarcasm, and her ability to roll with the punches.

  Mr. Hall—Daniel, as he insisted she call him—took a sip from his cup as he eyed her over the rim. “Now, before we show up in Pittsburgh on Thursday, are you sure your family’s up to us crashing your Thanksgiving dinner? Six grown men can really put a dent in the turkey.”

  Jinny pointed a finger at him. “If you don’t show up, you’ll answer to me because my mom has been planning this meal for weeks. Trust me. She loves nothing more than cooking for a crowd. Besides, I think she likes Emmett more than me.” She grimaced. No doubt, her mother would be fawning all over him the second they walked in.

  Jinny arched a brow. “But maybe I should be asking you. How do you feel about a little friendly competition?”

  Mr. Hall’s eyes lit up. “Like?”

  “Well, every Thanksgiving, the Kimball’s compete in a little game of football—”

  “You and your competitions.” Emmett’s voice cut her off.

  With a yelp of joy, Jinny turned to him and leapt into his arms. He staggered back as she crushed her mouth to his and laughed.

  When she pulled away, her eyes twinkled. “Fourteen points and six assists. Not too shabby for your second game back.”

  “What can I say? Awesome runs in the family.” He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her. “That and I had a pretty girl cheering for me in the stands.”

  “Yeah?” Jinny’s pulse raced.

  Mr. Hall cleared his throat. “Ah, how about I meet you back at the house for dinner before your flight?”

  “Sure,” Emmett said without even so much as a glance in his direction.

  “We’re making him sick, aren’t we?” Jinny asked once he was gone.

  “Maybe a little. He raised five boys. He’s not used to outward displays of affection.”

  Jinny reached up, straightening the collar of Emmett’s crisp white shirt. “I’m proud of you,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  She laughed and swatted at his arm. “I’m serious. You’ve done amazing.” Then, with a sly grin, she added, “One game might be a fluke, but not two. So, I think it’s safe to say I told you so.”

  “You told me so?”

  “Well, yeah. I told you from day one that you’d come back and be better than new.”

  “Ah, but you told me I wouldn’t get traded.”

  “But you asked to get traded, so, technically, I was still right. I win.”

  Emmett shook his head. “Fine. But I was right about us.”

  “What?”

  Emmett chuckled and kissed her softly on top of her head. “Yeah. I knew all along you had the hots for me, and I told you we would work. But you were so intent on pushing me away.”

  Jinny smirked, placing her hands on her hips. “I don’t remember it being like that. I remember you irritating the crap out of me until you finally wore me down.”

  Emmett tipped his head back and laughed. “Hey, whatever works. I won the girl, didn’t I?”

  “Barely,” Jinny muttered.

  Emmett clasped her hands in his as they made their way to his car.

  “Fine,” Jinny said. “But I give the best back rubs.”

  “I can’t argue with that. But I give better head rubs.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That’s only because I have more hair to work with.” She paused in front of the car and her eyes glittered. “Fine, I concede to that, but I still have you beat.” She stalked toward him, pinning him against the car. “Because I definitely love you more,” she whispered.

  “Impossible.” Emmett leaned in for a kiss and brushed his mouth lightly over hers. “I definitely win the loving-you-more competition.”

  Jinny scoffed. “Just like you won the game of Scrabble last night?”

  Emmett opened Jinny’s door and waited until she slid inside before he closed it and rounded the car. Once inside, he turned to her. “Legit is definitely a word.”

  “It is not. It’s slang for legitimate.”

  “Exactly. A real word.”

  “How can I be in love with such a sore loser?”

  Emmett feigned shock. “You’re in love with someone else?”

  Jinny glared at him. “You know, it’s kind of cute, actually.”

  “Do you always have to get the last word?”

  “Duh.”

  Emmett grabbed her left hand, brushing his fingers over her palm. She shivered in response and his eyes darkened, all the playfulness gone. “What would you say if I gave you a ring on Thursday?”

  Jinny’s heart stilled in her chest. She couldn’t breathe. For a moment, she thought she might pass out before her lungs kicked back in, remembering their job. Warmth spread from her fingers to her toes. She swallowed and asked, “You’re giving me a ring?”

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.” Emmett grinned, and Jinny pressed her right hand to her mouth to hide her growing smile.

  Her mind raced as she leaned back in the seat in a daze.

  She was in love. And she was going to get married.

  Great, now she’d be dying until Thursday.

  “See, I totally win.”

  When Jinny blinked over at him, he added, “As for the love-you-more thing, a proposal definitely clinches it.”

  “Only you would propose so you could win.”

  He laughed.

  A broad smile spread over her face. “But you’re forgetting something.”

  “What?”

  “After you ask, I get the last word.”

  Read Maya’s story next in

  RESISTING THE BAD BOY

  HERE

  Or

  Not ready to say goodbye? Turn the page to read an excerpt.

  Resisting the Bad Boy

  EXCERPT

  CHAPTER one

  Maya

  Maya stared at the pathetic cupcake that her cameraman, Ray, had given her early for her birthday. It was a nice gesture; she should be grateful. And she was.

  She was.

  She stared down at the vanilla cupcake. The lopsided frosting drooped to the side at a sad angle, kind of like her life.

  No, she told herself. Today was a good day, and tomorrow would be even better. Well, for her career, anyway. Her personal life may be pathetic, but at least her career was on-point. She’d just received the news that she scored the biggest interview of her career. Tomorrow morning, she would interview the Jordan Woods.

  She lifted the cupcake and stared at it with renewed determination. Saturday was her birthday. Only two more days. In her twenty-six years on this planet thus far, she had accomplished a great career and had come from an amazing family. While she couldn’t take much credit for her parents or her brother, she had clawed her way to the top of her class at Duquesne University and worked her butt off to snag a job in sports journalism for the city paper. At first she merely assisted, but after two years, she had proved her worth, and just look at her now. She was the leading sports journalist in the city. So, naturally, it was time to bring her personal life up to speed.

  No men, though. She was swearing off men. In particular, basketball players.

  Her thoughts flickered to her last two relationships. Both disasters. She’d spent too much time with Dean Kimball of the Pittsburgh Puma’s, hoping he’d come around and stop pining away for his sister’s best friend—although she hadn’t known at the time the “who,” she merely knew there was someone else occupying his heart. Then, she tried to forget him with a short-lived relationship with a man who was Dean’s complete opposite, but that ended poorly when she dumped him because she thought Dean still had feelings for her. She made a fool out of herself, compromised her integrity, and left with her tail between her legs, so to speak.

  She would not make that mistake again.

  No, her p
ersonal goals were more wide-ranging. She wanted friends. Yes, friends. Like kindred spirits, cut-from-the-same-cloth type friends. Maybe it was pathetic, but in her twenty-six years of life, she had little to no relationships outside of her family and work.

  She grew up a tomboy, in love with sports, hating all things girly. Then her parents had a major whoops and found themselves pregnant with an almost-nine-year-old at home. By the time her brother was diagnosed with autism, Maya was twelve, and her parent’s lives weren’t the only ones that changed. From that moment on, life became all about helping her family, making things easier on them, and assisting with her brother in any way she could. It wasn’t until late high school that she found her X-chromosome. By then, she had already formed a group of guy friends and alienated the girls at school. She was one of the “bros,” preferring football games on the weekends to getting mani-pedis with “the girls.”

  In short, she had no girl friends. Never did.

  But it was about time she got some. Friends, that is, particularly of the female variety.

  As of Saturday, she’d be twenty-seven. She was going to make some girl friends, real friends, true friends like you saw in the movies and read about in books. She’d get a life and do more than watch movies alone and drive her brother to and from his social activities. Even at eighteen, with no license, and a pervasive developmental disorder, the kid had more of a social life than she did, for goodness sake.

  With her vow fresh in her mind, she dragged her finger through the thick frosting then plunged the glob in her mouth, licking her finger clean. “Happy early birthday to me.

  ∞∞∞

  Jordan

  Jordan sighed as he stared out at the view, ignoring the buzzing in his ear—a buzzing also known as his agent, Ron.