One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2)

by Alexandra Warren

  “That’s a dangerous game to play.” - SeSa

  Frowning like she could see me, I typed out a quick response.

  “What? Wanting you here with me?” - Dre

  “No. Wishing for something you know can’t be.” - SeSa

  “Here we go with this shit,” I groaned, annoyed with the fact that work authority was really ruling over my personal life too. Then again, maybe it wasn’t just about Kat. Maybe Selena was leaning on that explanation when really, she just wasn’t feelin’ me the way I was feelin’ her.

  Instead of assuming anything, I asked her about it flat out.

  “Because you don’t want it to be?” - Dre

  “Dre. Come on now. You know what it is.” - SeSa

  “Nah, you smashed and dashed on a nigga. I don’t know shit.” - Dre

  I was really just teasing her since we both knew why she had to leave the way she did. But according to her response, she took offense anyway, using exaggerated punctuation to express what I knew would’ve been a passionate defense in person.

  “Smashed and dashed?!? I stuck around to cuddle! That’s gotta be worth somethin’!” - SeSa

  “You only stayed to cuddle cause I wore that ass out.” - Dre

  “Okay, facts. But I’m also not mad about it, so…” - SeSa

  “Get some rest, lil’ baby. I’ll see you later.” - Dre

  And I did see her later.

  After what felt like only a catnap, I got up, showered, and met Selena along with the rest of the team down in the hotel lobby where we congregated before loading the charter bus that would take us to New York for our next game.

  Once again, it was different than the men’s league where this would’ve undoubtedly been a quick flight. But considering I didn’t like to fly anyway, I wasn’t complaining as I took a seat closer to the front of the bus, my subconscious already preparing for Selena to take the seat next to me and becoming a little disappointed when Sugar slid into it instead.

  It was probably for the better.

  I mean, the last thing we needed was to give people more reason to be suspicious about us. And by the deliberately neutral look on her face when she loaded the bus, it was clear Selena felt the same way; though she did give me a little wink on her way to the back that Sugar thankfully didn’t notice since she was already too busy yapping about yesterday’s game.

  “I stayed up all night thinking about what we should’ve done differently, Dre. And you know what? Not a single damn thing came to mind. We played hard, we defended well, and we couldn’t have put the ball in better hands for that last shot.”

  Nodding to agree, I replied, “Nine times outta ten, Selena is hittin’ that. She just caught a bad angle at the rim.”

  It may not have been as obvious in live-action. But on film, it was clear as day, Sugar’s enthusiasm only increasing when she asked, “So you saw that too?”

  Considering the circumstances that led to me watching the play again - and everything that happened afterwards - it was hard not to grin as I answered, “Yeah, I did. And I… talked to her about it. She was a little bummed out.”

  “I can imagine,” Sugar sighed before returning my grin to add, “But she’s smiling today, so your pep talk must’ve worked.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to think so,” I told her plainly, diverting my eyes to the window in hopes of not having to say anything more about it.

  While it worked to some degree, I damn near choked on my tongue when Sugar leaned in to whisper, “A little somethin’ somethin’ to go with those words might’ve done her one better, though.”

  Flinching with guilt, I let off the most awkward laugh as I groaned, “Come on, Sugar. We’re talkin’ about a player here.”

  “She’s a woman first, Dre. And trust me when I tell you, this road can be a very lonely place.”

  It wasn’t lost on me since I’d been there done that, once again nodding when I replied, “Yeah, I remember,” even though Sugar was quick to disagree.

  “Nah, it was different for you. I mean, I’m sure you encountered your fair share of women who followed teams city-to-city, knew the hotels certain teams stayed in and exactly where to “accidentally” show up. But for the women in this league, it’s just not like that. You got to be lonely by choice where they don’t always have one.”

  There was a lot of truth to her perspective, though I still couldn’t help acknowledging, “Selena is a beautiful girl, Sugar. I can almost guarantee there’s no shortage of men checkin’ for her.”

  “Checkin’ for her, sure. But on those quiet nights after a loss like yesterday, who’s really there?” she asked, the question hitting on a personal level for reasons. And not only that, but now she had me wondering if Selena had really come to my room wanting to talk about the shot, or did she show up because she was just lonely.

  Considering she had no idea about any of that, it was nothing for Sugar to move on with a sighed, “Anyway. New York has four of Geno Auriemma’s former players, so we’re in for a knockdown dragout kinda game tomorrow night. I’m thinking we’ll…”

  The rest of her words played in and out as I pulled out my phone to send Selena a text to make sure the way she left me was the same way she woke up this morning.

  “You feelin’ okay today, lil’ baby?” - Dre

  “Sleepy as hell, but yeah I’m good. You good?” - SeSa

  “Better now that I know you’re straight. Sugar was concerned to say the least.” - Dre

  “Concerned about what?” - SeSa

  “Last night.” - Dre

  “She heard us???!” - SeSa

  Chuckling, I gave a “Mmhm” to agree with whatever Sugar was talking about as I typed out my response.

  “Not that, Selena. The game last night. The shot.” - Dre

  “Oh, that? I’m over it. Already onto NY.” - SeSa

  “Hmm. I wonder why…” - Dre

  “That dick. That’s why.” - SeSa

  “I’m going to sleep. See you in the next city, Jordan ;)” - SeSa

  Now that I knew we were good - I mean, she was good - I gave Sugar my undivided attention, game-planning on how we’d guard New York’s veteran center and making a note to practice it later during our walkthrough. Then we started talking about basketball in general, Sugar’s wealth of knowledge impressive as hell as I half-listened to her stories while checking my Instagram to discover Selena hadn’t gone to sleep after all.

  @SharpshooterSS liked @KageBeSteele’s post

  @SharpshooterSS left a comment on @KageBeSteele’s post: Anytime, K ;)

  “What is this all about?” I wondered, clicking over to the post that was a picture of Selena from yesterday’s game; an action shot of her shooting a three-pointer with the caption, “When her form is way better than yours… #Sharpshooter #GimmeLessons”

  The photo was dope, but I found myself studying the caption even more; reading between the lines of both that and Selena’s response to it. And once I put those two things with the picture she’d “liked” of the two of them after our first home game, I started to wonder if I wasn’t the only one making sure Selena Samuels wasn’t lonely; a thought I must’ve been wearing on my face since Sugar stopped whatever story she was in the middle of to ask, “Dre, are you listening to me?” before peeking over to my screen to see what had my attention.

  After taking a look for herself, she gushed, “Oh, he’s laying it on real thick, I see. This social media stuff makes gettin’ at somebody way too easy. Back in my day, you had to see them in person, or know somebody who knew them, or somethin’. Now it’s just a matter of finding their profile.”

  “Yeah, it’s crazy,” I agreed without giving too much, clicking out of the app before I gave the whole thing unnecessary energy. I mean, sure he’d posted about her multiple times and in response, she’d entertained it. But she was also the one who had come to me, the one who had woken up in my bed; in my arms.

  As far as I was concerned, there was no competition. And to make that clear, I
logged back onto Instagram and “liked” the picture too.

  She was ready.

  I could tell by the hyper-focused expression on her face as she bobbed along to the pregame mix of songs playing throughout the arena long before any of the crowd arrived. It was just her, the music, and the basketball in her hand as she sat on the bench and dribbled the ball back and forth under her legs, totally zoned out in a way that looked all too familiar - and was also attractive as hell.

  I’d seen plenty of pictures of Selena all dolled up; in magazines, on all the Nymphs promotional material, on Instagram. But there was something especially sexy about her game face in-person, easily taking its place as my second favorite - only behind the face she made when she was riding me the other night - as I continued to watch her dribble until I heard someone behind me say, “Well if it isn’t DeAndre Leonard.”

  Turning around to see if the face matched the familiar voice, I couldn’t help but smile once I saw that it did, my arms opening to receive the hug she already had extended as I replied, “Baby Bleu. What’s up, girl? Long time, no see.”

  “I knowwww. How you been? Congrats on the new gig. That cardinal red looks just as good on you now as it did the first go-round,” she teased with a pinch at my collared-Nymphs shirt that I’d paired with dark khakis and retro sneakers for tonight’s game, going with a more casual look that Sugar had already clowned me about since she claimed I was “serving Target worker realness”.

  Whatever that meant.

  Shaking off the jokes from earlier, I replied, “I appreciate that, Bleu. And congrats to you too. I heard you’re finally getting your own show.”

  Smiling with damn near all of her teeth, she gushed, “Yesss. It’s still in the early development stages, but Beyond the Bench with Bleu Taylor is coming soon.”

  “That’s what’s up. You deserve it. Especially since you’ve been runnin’ your mouth for as long as I’ve known you,” I teased, catching a jab to the arm as she squealed, “Oh, shut up!” like she didn’t know good and damn well how much her ass loved to talk.

  It was how we met years ago at one of the Trojans media days, with her being an up-and-comer in the sports journalism world and me being a budding star in the league. Honestly, I’d only gone to talk to her cause she was fine as hell. But all it took was that first interview for me to know she was really about her shit, quickly establishing a respectful-working relationship between us. A relationship that only grew when she was hired to cover the team for what ended up being our championship season before moving onto bigger things out here in New York.

  Just like back then, she was still her kindhearted, energetic self, a gentle hand against my arm as she said, “It’s good to see you doing well, though. Seriously. And you know I can’t wait to have you on the show.”

  “Let me do somethin’ worth talkin’ about first,” I suggested, watching her lips twist in disbelief before she offered a rebuttal.

  “Reviving your professional basketball career as a coach for the Trojans sister team is definitely something worth talking about, Dre. But being able to talk about it from the perspective of a champion in both leagues would be even better.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” was the most I could offer since it wasn’t like I was the one out there on the court meaning I really didn’t have that much control. But it seemed to be enough for Bleu who was being waved over by another media member that she gave the “hold on” finger to so she could respond to me.

  Grabbing both of my hands, she expressed, “Either way, I’m proud of you. And I look forward to witnessing more of your success which better include a televised-win tonight so I can get a happy postgame interview from Selena Samuels.”

  Again, the most I could offer was, “I’ll see what I can do,” a slight grin on Bleu’s face as she gave my hands a squeeze before moving along. And I felt just as proud watching her call the shots with her camera team which was a huge step-up from the tiny recorder she used to carry around us back in the day, something I thought about making a move to comment on until I felt a basketball hit my shin.

  “Ooh. Sorry,” Selena said in reference to the ball she must’ve bounced off her foot during her pregame daze, getting ready to pop up from her seat to come grab it until I stopped her with my hand and picked it up myself.

  “Don’t be,” I told her as I tossed it back, taking the seat next to her to ask, “You ready to go?”

  “Always,” she replied shortly, already back to her mindless dribbling as I agreed, “I can tell. I see it in your eyes tonight.”

  It was supposed to be a compliment, but it didn’t seem like Selena received it that way, a scowl on her face as she muttered more to herself than me, “Surprised you even noticed.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked with squinted eyes, her attitude catching me off-guard. But instead of responding to me, she stopped her dribbling to look past me, my attention going in the same direction once she stood up to greet the last person I expected to see.

  Or rather, the last person we expected to see according to Selena’s surprised reaction when she asked, “Kage? What are you doing here?”

  “Had some press shit in the city earlier, so I thought I’d swing by and check you out,” he answered with a shrug as he moved to pull her in for a hug and a cheek kiss that didn’t seem to make Selena uncomfortable.

  In fact, she seemed so cool with it that I caught a little attitude myself by the time Kage greeted me with a casual, “What’s good, fam?” replying with a head nod and a nonchalant, “Sup,” before sitting back to watch the two interact.

  I would’ve been lying if I didn’t admit how jealous I felt seeing Kage “lay it on thick” as Sugar had called it, running a hand down his crisp white tee as he told her, “I ain’t got my jersey on today, but you know who I’m here for, right?”

  Smirking, Selena replied, “Your support is much appreciated, Kage; by all of us,” brushing a hand against his arm to add, “I need to go finish my pregame routine.”

  “You do that, baby,” he groaned as he watched her move back to the court, the whole thing annoying the fuck outta me since Selena hadn’t bothered to correct him about that “baby” shit. And I suppose that made him comfortable enough to take the seat next to mine as we both watched her run through drills, my scowl really taking shape when he commented, “That’s a special breed of woman right there. Not many like her. I mean, she’s fine as hell and a baller? Got her own money, a degree, and MVP potential? Yeah, I’ma have to wife that.”

  Before I could bite my tongue, I blurted, “I think she’s good, bruh,” the possessive energy surprising me since it wasn’t like Selena was really mine to claim.

  I mean, sure we’d had a night; a damn good one at that. But it wasn’t like she’d made a big deal about it - or about us - making me feel uncertain as hell when Kage turned my way to ask, “You mean that? Or you just blockin’ cause you want her for yourself?”

  It was a complicated question. But coming from him in this particular moment, it was just flat-out annoying, my eyes tight when I growled, “I ain’t gotta block shit.”

  Instead of taking the hint to back off, he only chuckled, standing up and pushing a breath out of his nose as he replied, “Hmph. Heard you, my nigga.” Then he gave me a pat to the shoulder to say, “Good luck with that, champ,” before moving to take pictures with some of the other courtside fans who were now showing up, leaving me in a bad mood that I had to shake off so I could do my job. But even when the game started, the situation still sat heavy on my mind, making me wonder if now was the time to act on my feelings for Selena before Kage could really fuck shit up.

  Nine

  A two-game road trip had complicated everything.

  Learning more about Dre during our flight was one thing. Going to him for advice after the game was another. But fucking the man, cuddling afterwards, and then feeling a way over seeing him chat with another woman to the point that I let Kage get more play than usual?

/>   Yeah, shit was real complicated. And unfortunately, nothing in my world was slowing down anytime soon, forcing me to try and think on the fly which was why I called myself bringing it up to Ari as she taped my ankle for tonight’s home game in a few hours.

  With a smirk on her face, she said, “I gotta be honest, Selena. I’m kinda jealous right now.”

  Rolling my eyes, I groaned, “Ugh. Don’t be. Nothing about this is envy-worthy.”

  Instead of agreeing, she looked up at me to give a reminder I really didn’t need since, well, my body remembered every damn thing. And because it remembered everything, I literally shivered when she said, “Sis, you got dicked down by DeAndre Leonard on the late-night tip, and you have Kage Steele waiting in the wings. A little bit older and a little bit younger. A seasoned veteran and an eager rookie. A firmly molded man and a moldable one. The best of both worlds.”

  “Sounds all fine and dandy; doesn’t feel that way at all,” I sighed, pulling the top half of my braids back into a ponytail as Ari tapped my shin to signal she was done.

  Well, done with the taping that was supposed to help the tenderness I felt after the game against New York. Not done with the interrogation, a confused look on her face when she asked, “So what’s the problem?”

  Again, I sighed, propping my leg up so that I could put my shoe back on as I answered, “I don’t really want Kage. And I can’t have Dre.”

  “Why not? And don’t say Kat, cause that shit with them has always been a figment of your imagination.”

  “I wouldn’t say all that. But I can admit I made some assumptions about their involvement,” I told her, catching a mean side eye and changing my response because of it. “Okay, maybe a lot of assumptions.”