One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2)

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One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2) Page 10

by Alexandra Warren


  “Girl, you created a whole relationship and added your name to their wedding invitation list,” she replied with a laugh that I did my best to ignore as I fixed my shoelaces and groaned, “Anyway. Even if he’s not with Kat, I still respect her wanting us to keep things professional. And after seeing him be all buddy-buddy with Bleu…”

  Before I could finish, Ari cut me off. “Selena, you do realize you neutralized that shit by flirting with Kage right in that man’s face, right?”

  “We didn’t flirt. I was just a little nicer than usual,” I defended, catching another side eye that had me avoiding eye contact altogether since it made me feel guilty as hell.

  Still, that didn’t mean Ari wasn’t going to make her point, using extra emphasis to say, “Intentionally a little nicer, as a response to seeing Dre conversing with Bleu. Which, by the way, I’m pretty sure she’s friendly like that with everybody.”

  Considering I had experienced it firsthand during my postgame interview, I would’ve been lying if I didn’t agree with Ari’s claims, shaking my head as I replied, “I know, I know. I was trippin’. It just rubbed me the wrong way. I mean, I could feel him watching me, and then she came along, and…”

  “You were jealous, so you tried to make him jealous,” she finished for me, watching me nod as she continued, “I get it, Selena. But also, be a grown-up. Stop fuckin’ around and just tell that fine ass man how you feel after he dropped that dick off in you somethin’ proper.”

  If my feelings were only sex-related, they would’ve been a lot easier to speak on. But the truth was, it was deeper than that. The connection I felt with Dre was beyond just the physical. I mean, he knew shit about me that not even Ari knew and that was saying a lot since I was an extremely private person when it came to my personal business. But with Dre, it was just… easy, natural, comfortable to the point that I really hadn’t thought twice about being so open. And it certainly helped that he reciprocated that same energy, only making me want to share more of myself so that I could learn more about him in the process.

  Still, what was simple in those moments wasn’t so simple big picture, a somber expression on my face when I finally told Ari, “First of all, it’s not just about the dick. And second of all, tell him how I feel for what? It’s not like we can really do shit about it right now anyway.”

  Between the busyness of the season and Kat’s concern about the optics, anything more than what we’d already done was a major stretch. Though Ari didn’t quite see it that way when she suggested, “Again, be a grown-up. There’s plenty of things you can do about it, Selena. Just don’t do it in this facility until y’all are serious enough to take on the inevitable, i.e. people in your business.”

  Because it was sound advice - and because I needed to get to the court - I grabbed my phone and hopped down from the training table to tell her, “Thanks, Ari,” absorbing all the good energy from the hand she pressed against my arm when she replied, “Anytime, babe. And let me know how that ankle feels after the game. I’ll write you up a recovery plan just in case.”

  Giving her a nod, I headed out of the training room, mindlessly scrolling through my phone as I traveled down the hall towards the court’s entryway. But when I turned the corner, I walked right up on a conversation clearly not meant for me to hear, my eyebrow piqued as I slipped behind the wall to listen in as one of the Trojans support staff said, “Mannnn, I can’t believe the Lloyds really got you coaching in that boring ass league. I know good and damn well you’d rather be with us.”

  “Boring ass league?” I whispered to myself with a frown that only grew tighter when, instead of correcting the man, Dre replied, “An opportunity is an opportunity, G. It’s honest work.”

  “Yeah, honestly trash as fuck. I mean, I don’t know how you don’t fall asleep on the bench every game. Wait. Yes, I do. Some of them bitches be fine as hell,” he commented with this annoying ass laugh that had me hot as I hissed, “Bitches?” while Dre passively suggested, “Relax, man.”

  Of course the man didn’t relax, really going in when he insisted, “Can’t call themselves the Nashville Nymphos and not expect a nigga to see ‘em that way; especially with a head coach named Sugar. Yeah, I’ll take some sugar alright…”

  Again, Dre was passive as hell when he corrected, “It’s the Nymphs, G. Not the Nymphos.”

  “Nymphs. Nymphos. Same difference. All I know is, maybe if they played in some lingerie or somethin’, a nigga like me would actually fuck wit’ it. But until then, they can keep taking their boring asses overseas to play for the mothafuckas who don’t know any better.”

  That was the final straw as I peeled around the corner with my finger pointed in his direction and growled, “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” his eyes wide in shock as Dre stepped in front of me to try and stop me.

  Keyword: Try

  Pushing past him, I snapped, “Nah, this mothafucka thinks shit is sweet like his ass doesn’t clean-up after grown men for a living. All-time discarded towel catcher, and got the nerve to talk shit about us? You do realize you’re nothin’ but a glorified ballboy, right? A grown ass man rushing to pick-up sweaty booty warm-up pants and hand out water bottles. How pathetic.”

  “Selena, relax,” Dre urged with a lot more aggression than he was giving ol’ boy earlier, only making me angrier as I told him, “Nah, fuck that. Y’all can both kiss my ass.”

  The man took that as a cue to dismiss himself while he had the chance. But Dre didn’t have it so easy since he was the one who still had to deal with me after the fact, his head cocked when he asked, “What I do?”

  Pointing in the direction of the perpetrator, I answered, “Lettin’ that mothafucka run his mouth about our league with no repercussions, that’s what. If you wanna be with the Trojans so bad, why don’t you just leave, Dre? We were good before you, and we’ll be good after you.”

  Once the words left my lips, I realized how harsh they sounded. But I wasn’t taking them back, not even after seeing the somehow attractively-somber look on Dre’s face when he took a step closer to me and asked, “That’s how you feel?”

  The intensity in his stare made my heart race, but I wasn’t backing down from this, crossing my arms over my chest to respond, “Yes, that’s how I feel. I mean, you really think we play overseas because the people don’t know any better?”

  His groaned, “I didn’t say that” got drowned out by the rest of my spiel when I ranted, “You got to go play overseas as a choice, to try and hide from the pile of bullshit you left over here in the states. But for me? It’s not an option. It’s how I take care of those I love; how we all take care of those we love because this league alone doesn’t allow us to do that.”

  “I know that, Selena,” he sighed, almost annoyedly like it wasn’t partially his fault that I had to explain the shit in the first place.

  Because of that fact, I had no problem exclaiming, “Then act like it!”

  Dre’s eyes immediately tightened as he pressed his body against mine with what was essentially a push with no hands since I was forced to step back, his glare dangerously dark when he looked down at me to say, “Nah, see. What you’re not gonna do is raise your fuckin’ voice at me about this shit.”

  My head told me to stand down. But my ego? Sis was alive and well even while being lodged between Dre and the wall behind me, my chest heaving when I snapped, “Maybe if you would’ve kept this same energy with him, I wouldn’t have to.”

  Just as Dre opened his mouth to respond, one of the arena’s security guards strolled past, doing his best to act like he wasn’t in our business when he gave Dre a nod and me a no-lip smile on his way out to the court. But the brief interruption was enough to change Dre’s demeanor as he took a tiny step back to ask, “Look. Can we just talk about this later?”

  “Nah, I have nothin’ else to say,” I replied, using the bit of space he’d created between us to make a move towards the court even as Dre followed me and groaned, “Selena, come on.”

&nbs
p; “I have a game to prepare for, Coach Leonard. I suggest you do the same. Well, that’s if you still care to stick around us boring basketball bitches,” I snarled with a roll of my eyes that had Dre snatching me back by my wrist.

  Well, maybe it wasn’t a snatch; more of a gentle grab. But in this moment, everything felt intensified, his, “Don’t do that” clashing with my, “Don’t touch me” as I yanked away and continued my pursuit towards the rack of basketballs so that I could begin my pregame routine. And I suppose because he knew how important this part was for my psyche, he left me alone which was honestly his best bet - and our opponent’s worst nightmare.

  With my adrenaline still pumping from my argument with Dre, and a little bit of “remind these mothafuckas what you’re made of” coursing through my veins after dealing with that lame ass ballboy, I played a game worth memorializing, putting up numbers unseen as far as the Nymphs organization went.

  Forty-nine points which was just four shy of tying the overall league record.

  A perfect seven-for-seven from behind the arc.

  Twelve rebounds and ten assists to round out my triple-double.

  And most importantly, a win that just so happened to be over my former team.

  Before the game, I’d tried not to put so much emphasis on that part since it wasn’t like this was my first time playing against them since forcing my trade out of LA. But it definitely made the victory a little sweeter to celebrate with my Nymphs teammates and coaches.

  Well, except for Dre who must’ve thought he’d bury the hatchet when he acknowledged, “Good shit tonight, SeSa.”

  “Selena is fine,” I corrected, blowing past him to go sign autographs and take pictures with the fans. But even then, I could still feel him watching me from afar, an amused smirk on his face that somehow told me this wasn’t the end of our run.

  Ten

  I was done with the bullshit.

  I’d given her space, I’d given her time to process, and I’d even sent her a text to apologize. But now, this little one-sided beef had gone on for far too long. And to be real, I missed my friend.

  So that’s how I found myself sitting in Selena’s locker spot hours before our game later tonight, knowing she’d be arriving earlier than her teammates since it was a part of her routine to get in some extra work before everyone else showed up. And like clockwork, she strolled in with a new look I wasn’t expecting, her long braids replaced with a curly ponytail sitting at the top of her head and her usual sweatpants and sneakers exchanged for a pair of skin-tight jeans and strappy-sandal heels that had her legs looking especially long - had her looking especially sexy.

  She knew it too. I could tell by the smirk on her lips when she caught me ogling and asked, “Can I help you with somethin’, Coach Leonard?”

  Standing up from my seat so she could replace it with her duffle bag, I answered, “Yeah, actually you can.”

  Without giving me eye contact, she followed, “Is it basketball-related?”

  “Yeah, it is,” I told her, knowing that was only partially true since there was a lot more than just basketball we needed to discuss.

  But considering that was my only way in, I rolled with it, watching her begin to unpack her bag as she tossed over her shoulder, “So… what’s up?”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, I took a moment to choose my words carefully, wishing I had her eyes when I shared, “Selena, you know I respect what y’all do on the court more than the average person. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  “You sure about that? Or are you only here cause this was your “opportunity”?” she asked with an obvious lick of sarcasm even though I couldn’t see her face.

  Still, that didn’t deter me from being honest when I replied, “That’s what got me here, yeah. But that’s not what keeps me showing up every day. It’s you - y’all. Seeing how hard y’all work, how bad y’all want it, how committed y’all are to bringing the championship to Nashville. I respect y’all as ball players, and I would never allow myself to be associated with somethin’ I didn’t truly believe in.”

  It was my truth regardless of how she received it. But I was happy when she, at least, turned around to respond, “Look, Dre. I don’t need you to prove that to me. I’m gonna go hard regardless of what you think, and my game speaks for itself. But as for these other eleven women rockin’ a Nymphs jersey? They deserve to have you sticking up for them in their absence. They deserve to have their sacrifices recognized and respected. They deserve better.”

  With a nod, I agreed, “You’re right, which is why I texted you an apology.”

  That made her pull her eyes away, back to getting her personal items organized in her locker as she admitted, “Honestly, I didn’t even read it. I saw your name pop up and immediately deleted it.”

  “Damn. That’s rude as hell,” I halfway laughed, not all that surprised since I knew just how bullheaded she could be. But really, it was part of what I liked about her, her passion towards whatever she believed in even if it was against me.

  As expected, she didn’t feel bad about it either, rattling off an unapologetic, “Sorry not sorry. You had me fucked up.”

  I was quick to correct, “No, he had you fucked up. I just didn’t do my part as an ally. So for that, and because you deleted it when I said it the first time, I’m sorry.”

  Again, she turned back my way, this time with a smile that lowkey made my heart flutter when she replied, “I appreciate that.”

  “Though I must say, lighting a fire under your ass got you the lead story on Sportscenter, so…” I trailed teasingly, catching the meanest side eye as she damn near growled, “Don’t try me, Dre.”

  With a shrug, I purposely gassed the situation, plopping down in Talia’s empty spot next to hers to add, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe ol’ boy had a point about you boring basketball bi…”

  Before I could even get the last word out - I wasn’t going to get the last word out - Selena jabbed a finger towards the exit and snapped, “Get out,” only making me laugh for real as I stood back up to tell her, “Nah, seriously though. I uh… I was wondering if maybe we could make some plans for after the game. Catch up on lost time thanks to that cold ass shoulder you’ve been given me as of late.”

  Because we’d only taken a step back from our night spent together in Connecticut, we really had more than just lost time to catch up on. And I was glad to see Selena caught my vibe, a smirk on her lips when she slickly replied, “That can possibly be arranged.”

  “What, you gotta run it past your little boyfriend first or somethin’?” I asked teasingly, watching as her lips immediately twisted into a frown.

  “My little boyfriend? I just know you aren’t talking about Kage?”

  “How’d you know I was talkin’ about Kage then?” I pressed, wishing I’d snapped a picture of the shocked expression on her face once she realized she’d gotten caught up in her own words.

  She did her best to recover though, groaning an exaggerated, “Anyway. Kage is just a huge Nymphs supporter.”

  “More like a huge Selena Samuels supporter,” I muttered as she shot another side eye my way, this time with a smile that had me quick to add, “But really, it ain’t none of my business no way. I just wanna spend some time with my friend.”

  “Oh, so we’re friends again?” she asked, her eyebrow piqued like it was really all that surprising.

  Then again, considering she was the one who was mad in the first place, maybe it really was news which was why I replied, “Ask yourself that question, lil’ baby.”

  Averting her eyes, she put a finger to her chin to literally do it, using some extra fluffy voice to ask, “Do you wanna be Jordan’s friend, Selena?” and then changing it up to respond, “Hmm… I don’t know let me think about it.”

  “You play too much,” I told her with a laugh, shaking my head as she caught my hand with a serious look in her eyes.

  A look that had me a little concerned until she finally blurted, “Dre, I’m so
rry too. For… blowing up on you like that the other day. It wasn’t totally your fault that that guy was being an ass. It’s just we catch shit like that all the time, for no reason other than people seeing us as an easy target for disrespect. Trolls on the internet telling us to get back in the kitchen, talking about our style of play, talking about what we should and shouldn’t do like they’d care about our game either way. I guess I’m just... sick of it.”

  Nodding, I gave her hand a squeeze. “I get it, lil’ baby. No explanation needed.” And she seemed to be pleased with that, licking her lips before bringing back up our other order of business.

  “So these plans you speak of…”

  “We’ll talk after the game. Right now, I need you focused,” I insisted, earning myself an annoyed grunt as she turned back towards her locker to complain.

  “Shouldn’t have come in here lookin’ all good and smellin’ even better if you really expected me to stay focused on the game, Dre.”

  “Shit, I had to come correct since you ain’t been wantin’ to talk to ya boy lately,” I reminded her, surely sounding pitiful as hell even though it was the truth.

  A truth that Selena took full advantage of when she sang, “Aww, you missed me?”

  “Yeah. Actually, I did,” I admitted, pulling her into a hug that she only halfway resisted. And when I started kissing on her neck, that halfway turned into not at all, a moan slipping from the back of her throat that only made me go harder since I really did miss her.

  Well, missed being like this with her, that one night together not being nearly enough as I grabbed a handful of her ass to pull her closer while she groaned, “You better stop before somebody comes in here and sees us.”

  “Just give me a lil’ somethin’ to hold me over until tonight,” I pleaded, nibbling at her ear before I whispered, “I’ve been starved.”

  That really made her crumble, her hands wrapped around the back of my head to keep me close as I licked and kissed her skin until she gulped in response to Mikayla walking in singing, “Anything for Selenaaaaoh my God.”

 

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