“You wouldn’t. Ain’t exactly my favorite thing to talk about,” I told her, knowing the Lloyd family and some of my old teammates from the Trojans were the only people who really knew the full truth.
Now that shortlist included her, something I had a feeling I wouldn’t regret once she smiled and insisted, “It’s super inspiring, though.”
Instead of fully agreeing, I shrugged. “Yeah, maybe one day it will be. But right now, it’s still too fresh for me to know if there’s truly a happy ending or not.”
Of course I wanted there to be a happy ending. Really, I needed there to be a happy ending since I wasn’t sure what I would do otherwise. But for the meantime, I was taking it day-by-day; though it was clear Selena saw things in a more positive light when she offered, “I think there will be.”
Naturally, my eyebrow piqued in surprise at her vote of confidence. “Oh yeah? How you figure?”
“Cause you’re here with us, and we got you,” she suggested with a look that begged for me to believe her.
I wanted to believe her. But I also had hard evidence telling me not to get too ahead of myself, a smirk on my lips when I reminded her, “Couple days ago you ain’t wanna have shit to do with me, Selena.”
Grabbing my hand, she gave it a squeeze to emphasize, “Well I do now, Dre. I get it now.”
“And I appreciate that,” I replied, squeezing her hand right back. And then we just sat there, hand-in-hand, trying to figure out how the hell we’d gotten here.
At least, that’s what I was thinking, already smacking myself for digging the vibe between us so much as Selena finally snatched her hand away to say, “I… should probably go get in the cold tub right quick so I’m not dragging at practice tomorrow.”
With a nod, I stood up to agree. “Yeah, can’t have you blamin’ me when your ass is back to brickin’ again. I tried to save you, lil’ baby.”
Giggling, she stood up and matched my stance toe-to-toe. “Nah, you tried to play me. And that’s something I don’t take kindly.”
“It won’t happen again, Ms. Samuels,” I assured, quickly finding myself caught up in the moment of just… being with her as I stared down into her eyes waiting for her to make a move.
When she slowly licked her lips, I assumed she felt it too. But instead of doing anything about it - and probably doing us both a favor - she gave me a little pat to my chest and said, “Have a good rest of your day, Dre.”
Five
Game day.
I almost couldn’t believe it was here, couldn’t believe that I was actually getting ready to begin my fourth season as a professional in the league I’d dreamed about since I was a little girl. Granted, early on, some of that dream was force-fed by my father who did everything he could to turn me into the athlete he wished my older brother was still alive to be. But now, it was totally mine, and I was grateful for the opportunity to play the game I loved most at the highest level it could be played, lacing up my kicks as Coach Sugar approached me with a grin.
“How many you got for me tonight, Sharpie?” she asked, somehow making a nickname out of my nickname in only a way she could.
“However many it takes for us to get this win, Coach,” I answered confidently, ready to set the tone for the season and put my team on the radar as a viable contender for the championship.
Not that people thought our squad was trash. I mean, making it to the playoffs in our inaugural season last year was certainly nothing to sneeze at. But because Nashville wasn’t considered a big market, we didn’t get the same media coverage as some of the other top teams which automatically put us at a disadvantage; something I knew would only change if we gave them a reason to watch us.
I’m going to give them a reason to watch us.
“I like the sound of that,” Sugar finally responded with a nod, moving her hands to her pockets as she continued, “Dre told me he’s been putting in some extra work with you and that three-pointer. I’m looking forward to seeing the results.”
“Me and you both,” I replied shortly, knowing that was the most I could say on it without letting my feelings about that “extra work” ruin the competitive edge I had worked up.
I mean, hating Dre was easy when he was just my former favorite player who blew his chances at glory, making him undeserving of an opportunity like this. But now that I knew the backstory of his downfall, I not only felt bad for talking shit about him, I also admired the fact that he was fully committed to bouncing back which was exactly why I couldn’t talk about it since, well, it made me feel all warm, and fuzzy, and soft when I thought about the conversations we’d shared surrounding that particular topic.
He was so open, and honest, and genuinely nice as fuck while also somehow maintaining his grit and being fine as hell. And he understood the game like no other, dropping gems during each of our extended practices that only made me take to him even more since I’d never been around a guy who knew more than I did about basketball.
Okay, maybe that was a stretch. But he knew a lot, and it was refreshing to be able to learn from someone, to follow instead of lead, to be pushed instead of relying solely on self-motivation, to…
“Y’all were only working on jumpshots, right?” Sugar asked, her question interrupting the thoughts I was supposed to be avoiding in the first place.
Thinking back on her question, I realized I must’ve been in extra deep, trying to play it off when I frowned and asked, “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me, Coach Daniels?”
Instead of clarifying, she only smirked and shrugged. “Just checking the temperature, Selena.”
“Just checking the temperature,” I repeated with a chuckle, giving my most convincing grin when I told her, “Dre’s a great basketball coach. And that’s the only thing I know him as.”
I expected that to be the answer she wanted to hear, especially since it was the truth; for now. But the frown she responded with had me confused until she groaned, “Hmph. That’s unfortunate.”
“Oh my God…” I sighed with another chuckle, getting ready to call her out on her comment until the culprit himself approached, bringing an immediate smile to Sugar’s lips as she looked up at him to gush, “Dre. We were just talking about you.”
His eyebrow piqued like he was surprised to hear it. “Oh yeah? I hope it was all good things.”
“Of course it was,” Sugar practically sang, directing her attention towards me to say,
“Selena will get you up to speed. I need to finish making my rounds.”
In what felt like a blink of an eye, she was already a few locker spots down, making a guest appearance in the background of one of Mikayla’s annoying ass Instagram videos that had me rolling my eyes until Dre said, “So… catch me up.”
With a wave of my hand, I bent over in my seat to double-check my laces as I told him, “It was nothing, really. I was just telling Sugar that you’re a great coach. There’s not a lot of people who can push me and get away with it, not a lot of people that I trust to make me a better ball player. But you… you’ve done that. And I don’t exactly hate you for it.”
That rumbling chuckle of his was enough to grab my full attention, prompting me to sit back up as he replied, “You got a funny way of giving compliments, Selena. But I’ll take it. I mean, I guess you weren’t lying about looking forward to those... hands-on lessons.”
The way he said it had me shifting in my seat, my head cocked when I pursed my lips together and asked, “Hm?”
“In your media day interview. You said you’d learned from my example and felt lucky to now have access to more hands-on lessons like the work we’ve been putting in,” he reminded me, the fact that he was really only repeating my words back to me not bringing me nearly enough relief since they took a totally different tone coming from his lips.
Still, I did my best to play it off yet again, letting out an airy, “Oh, right. Those kinda hands-on lessons.”
Like he could read my mind, he chuckled again. “Come o
n, lil’ baby. Get your head outta the gutter.”
“It’s not!” I quickly defended, my cheeks growing warm as I lied, “I just… forgot I said that.”
“Mmhmm. You ready to ball out tonight?” he asked, changing the subject to what should’ve been the sole thing on my mind. But now, it was sharing space with thoughts of what Dre could do with those extra large, tattoo-covered hands of his, my mouth watering at the thought of him palming my ass like a basketball, and… shit.
Nodding, I did my best to shake it off. “Balling out is the only reason I’m here, Coach Leonard.”
From the pleased look on his face, I assumed my answer was sufficient. Though I couldn’t miss the boyish grin that followed when he commented, “My first time seeing The Sharpshooter live in action. Shit, I’m lowkey excited.”
“Uh, it’s your first game coaching, Dre. You should be excited about that.”
“I’m excited about both, Selena. Equally excited,” he emphasized with a lick of his lips like he was trying to make a point.
The exact kind of point that had the power to get us both in trouble, prompting me to pop up from my chair and warn, “Go on somewhere with the flattery before Sugar asks me if we’re fuckin’ again.”
“Again?” he asked, his shock making me giggle as I gave him a little pat to the chest to tell him, “And now you’re up to speed. See you out on the court, Coach.”
Before he could respond, I was already on my way out of the locker room, giving daps to a few of the arena staff members that I passed on the path to the court that immediately put things back into perspective the second I stepped on it.
This was what I was here for.
This was what it was all about.
This was home.
And it was time to show everybody we were on a serious mission this season, my eyes tightening as I started to lock in until I heard someone say, “Mama, there goes that wo-man!”
Peeking over, I honestly hated the way a grin came to my lips once I noticed what he was wearing, surely giving him the wrong impression that I was happy to see him sitting courtside when really I was just happy to see his attire.
Gnawing on my lip in an effort to hide some of that excitement, I commented, “Nice jersey, Kage.”
“You know I had to show love,” he replied with a smile of his own, adjusting his replica of my Nymphs number twenty jersey over his lanky frame before insisting, “Now come on. Let me get one for the ‘gram right quick.”
“One for the ‘gram” turned into what felt like a mini-photoshoot, Kage hitting all types of goofy poses that had me cracking up laughing by the time we were done. But my laugh got caught in my throat when I saw Dre hiding out in the tunnel with Kat who was happily adjusting the front of his suit jacket before smoothing it over his chest, looking every bit of a proud girlfriend as they chatted about… whatever.
It didn’t matter.
It was none of my business.
And because it was none of my business, I focused on what was my business, smiling for a few more professional pictures with Kage before getting back on the court for warm-ups.
“First game ball of the season goes to none other than Ms. Sharpshooter herself for shooting an impressive six-for-eight from behind the arc and leading us to victory.”
The locker room went up in celebration, a few of my teammates crowding over me to show extra love as Mikayla caught it all on video through her front-facing camera. Typically, I’d be annoyed about it. But today, I didn’t mind since a solid four of those six three-pointers came off incredible assists from her, encouraging me to hop in the background of her recording to say, “Shoutout to my point guard!”
That only made things even more boisterous, Sugar laughing right along with us before urging, “Alright, alright. Settle down. The faster we finish, the faster y’all can get to postgame, and the faster y’all can get outta here!”
Knowing that was the ultimate motivator to get us to do anything, we found comfortable spots to receive the rest of Sugar’s message before she dismissed us to get cleaned up for postgame interviews. And while I thought nothing of pulling my damp jersey off right there in the middle of the locker room, catching Dre’s eyes on me from across the room made me feel especially naked as I turned to face the locker like that somehow changed things.
I mean, it wasn’t his first time seeing me in just my sports bra and shorts, so it shouldn’t have been a big deal. But now that I had gotten to know him a little better, my attraction to him had grown substantially, his attention making my heart race as I peeked over my shoulder to find him heading my way.
Leaning against the empty wall space next to me, he commented, “Game ball, huh? Congratulations. Much deserved.”
“You want it? I have enough of these at home already,” I offered teasingly as I put on a t-shirt so that I could actually face him without feeling exposed.
It didn’t make much of a difference though, Dre’s ogling only intensifying when he replied, “Superstar shit. I bet your mama is real proud.”
If there was anything to dim the excitement of the moment, it was that, my entire demeanor turning somber as I quietly agreed, “She would be, I’m sure.”
That was the most I could say without giving a full explanation. Though from the look on Dre’s face, I could tell that’s what he was expecting, probably because he had been so open about his family history with me.
I couldn’t do that, though.
Not here, and definitely not right now, grateful for Mikayla’s interruption when she came over towards my locker singing, “Okay, Sharpshooter! I see you on your cougar shit.”
“Cougar shit?” I asked with a frown, glancing down at the phone she was already shoving into my hands to show me what was she talking about. And all it took was a tiny peek for me to defend, “That is not what it looks like.”
Taking a closer view, I almost couldn’t believe how cozy Kage and I looked as we laughed about whatever silly comment he’d made in the moment. But I knew it was the caption of a heart and a basketball emoji that really put the cherry on top, Mikayla putting things even more into perspective once she replied, “You know the truth doesn’t matter. People are already having a field day in the comments; crowning y’all as the king and queen of Nashville and everything.”
The fact that people were so quick to jump to conclusions had me hot, and Dre only added to that when he chimed in, “Cute. Real cute,” before leaving us to deal with the situation. Or rather, leaving me to deal with the situation since Mikayla was more entertained by the in-person tension, a grin on her face as she whistled, “Whew. Juggling two fine ass niggas. As if I needed another reason to look up to you…”
Once again, I found myself on the defense when I whined, “I’m not juggling anybody.”
“That heart on IG from Kage and that shady ass comment from Coach in response to it says otherwise,” Mikayla insisted, earning a mean side eye that had her holding her hands up to add, “But, hey. If you say you’re not juggling, then you’re not juggling. No beef this way.”
Flashbacks of that cheapshot I gave her in practice must’ve ran through her head with how quick she was to make her position clear. But really, I couldn’t blame her for noticing that Dre and I had taken an interest in each other while Kage had taken advantage of yet another public opportunity to shoot his shot; a shot I knew I had to work in my favor by taking one for the team.
Grabbing my own phone, I logged into Instagram and was hit with a ridiculous number of notifications; from likes, to new followers, and everything in between. But it only took a few scrolls past more recently posted pictures for me to find what I was looking for, giving the post of Kage and I a quick double-tap to “like” it before finally making my way to the postgame press conference.
Six
Comfortable outfit, neck pillow, snacks, a couple episodes of my favorite sports podcast The Zone downloaded to my phone…
I had everything I needed, and somehow it still didn’t fee
l like enough to keep me calm for the roughly two-and-a-half-hour flight to Connecticut for the Nymphs’ first away game. Now that the season was in full swing, it was inevitable that we’d be taking flights pretty frequently. But because we had been spoiled with our first three games of the season being at home - and had been busily focused on that - I hadn’t really had a chance to get mentally prepared for this part of the deal.
Yeah, flying had never been my thing, partly due to my grandmother’s fear of plane crashes that she passed down to me. And it certainly didn’t help that in this league, they flew commercial instead of chartering private planes the way we’d done back when I was a player which meant we had to share it with a bunch of other unpredictable people.
And babies.
Fuck.
Handing over my ticket to the gate agent, I lowkey wished the machine would deny me so I’d be given a pass to just find a bus or train to take instead. But when it beeped in approval, I realized it was time for me to face my fate, doing a slow stroll down the jetbridge onto the plane and into the row that only included me for now.
“Anybody but a baby,” I thought with a quick glance at the empty seat next to me, pushing my bag of supplies under the seat in front of me as I heard someone from the aisle say, “I see the universe is tryna be funny.”
Peeking up, I found Selena scooting into the seat next to mine to let others get past her before asking, “You mind if I take the window?”
“Prefer it actually. Ain’t shit out there I’m tryna see once we take off,” I answered, standing up to follow her lead out into the aisle so that we could switch seats more efficiently. And during that transition, I caught a wink from Sugar who was sitting in the very first row; a wink that had me a little confused as I sat down in my new seat just in time to hear Selena’s response.
“Taking off is the best part, Dre. I mean, when else do you get to soar above it all like this?”
One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2) Page 5