One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2)

by Alexandra Warren

  Shaking my head, I defended, “I’m not judging her at all. I’m just thinking with a business mindset. I mean, most recording contracts are lousy as hell these days anyway. Might as well become an entrepreneur.”

  Again, my serious observation made Dre laugh as he scrolled to the next entry and said, “Well she ain’t the only one playing the game. Check out what your boy @Okin4thegram just posted.”

  With one glance, I could already tell the video was a much different vibe than the stuff he’d previously posted, the fact that he was shirtless enough for me to sit up in the bed. And as I watched the video show off his body while he sang, I found myself groaning, “Well damn” Dre trying to snap me out of it when he pulled the screen from my view and scolded, “Nah, keep that same energy you had with Melina.”

  “Dre, quit playin’! Let me see the video,” I whined, reaching for his phone as he did his best to block me.

  “Nah, you gotta watch this shit with your eyes closed or somethin’.”

  “Dre, come on, ” I giggled, wrestling my way on top of him and locking his arm in a way that left him no choice but to let me see it. And now that I was viewing it for a second time, I noticed new things, my eyes squinted when I commented, “This background looks so familiar to me.”

  “Aight, aight. That’s enough,” he rattled, launching the phone towards the end of the mattress with the video still playing as I straddled his lap and laughed in his face.

  “Are you really gettin’ jealous? I don’t even know who that dude is!”

  “But if you had on panties, I bet he would’ve sung them right off,” he fired back with a scowl, only making me laugh harder as I put my finger to my chin and sang, “Hmm… I wonder how they got off in the first place…”

  “Do you need a reminder?” he asked, his hands finding their rightful place on my ass for a squeeze that had me gnawing into my lip as I battled between my wants and needs.

  Yes, I wanted a reminder. But did I need it?

  As if it was answering the question for me, my stomach growled with perfect timing, its volume borderline embarrassing as I told Dre, “No. I need some food.”

  He wasn’t giving up though, his dick already rock hard between us when he suggested, “Maybe a snack and then a reminder?”

  “A meal, and then a nap, and then a reminder,” I laid out, climbing out of his lap to let him know I was serious about my plans as I got up to stretch. And thankfully, Dre didn’t fight me on it - cause he might’ve won - going with the flow of our lazy day off that was damn near perfect until my father interrupted with a phone call about his Fourth of July cookout coming up.

  “I know you’re in the middle of the season, but you can make a little time for your father, right?”

  “The same way you make so much time for me?” I thought to myself with a sarcastic roll of my eyes, Dre watching me intently as I told my father, “Yes, Daddy. I can.”

  “I’ve been working on this new sauce recipe, even though you know my meat don’t need no damn sauce. But anyway, Darla loves it!” he exclaimed, just the mention of her making me even more annoyed when I plainly replied, “I’m sure she does, Daddy.”

  Apparently, I’d kept it a little too plain, my father picking up on my attitude enough to ask, “Everything alright Selena?”

  With a nod he couldn’t see, I sighed, “Yes, I’m fine. I just… today is one of very few days off during the season, so I’m trying to relax as much as possible.”

  That was only partially true, the other part of it a conversation I knew I wasn’t interested in having today. And I was grateful my father knew not to press me on it, offering a somber, “I understand,” before picking his voice back up to say, “Well let me get out of your hair. I’ll see you for the holiday. Love you, baby girl.”

  “Love you too, Daddy,” I replied, ending the call and releasing another sigh that had Dre quick to ask, “You good?”

  Nodding, I did my best to brush off the tension from that simple conversation as I answered, “Yeah. That was just my father calling to talk about his new BBQ sauce.”

  “Sounds like typical dad shit. I mean, at least what I saw them do on TV.”

  It was subtle. But the reminder of Dre growing up without his father made me feel like a brat for being so awkward with mine, giving me an idea that I blurted before I could change my mind. “He invited me over for the holiday coming up. You should come with me.”

  “Come with you?” he asked, clearly surprised by the invitation. And because I didn’t want things to be awkward with him too, I tried to take some of the pressure off when I responded.

  “Not like as my date. But just for support or whatever.”

  I expected him to, at least, contemplate the idea, give some thought to what being seen with me would mean, weigh the pros and cons of sharing a meal with a bunch of Nashville locals who had cheered his rise and judged his fall. But he didn’t do any of that, only kissed my cheek before telling me, “If that’s what you want, Selena.”

  As far as the cookout went, it was exactly what I wanted. But as far as my life went, it was starting to seem like Dre’s cool and calm demeanor was maybe what I needed.

  Twelve

  Some good food was exactly what I needed to balance out the bit of anxiety that came with joining Selena for her father’s Fourth of July cookout.

  As far as everyone here knew, I was just tagging along because I didn’t have any other plans for the day and Selena knew there’d be plenty of food. But that still didn’t mean I felt totally at ease; especially since I hadn’t accounted for the lingering stares I’d get from her uncles and cousins who’d all apparently been huge fans of mine before I was ousted from the league, her father being the only one willing to actually speak on it when he commented, “Man, if I was you, I’d rock that championship ring everywhere I went! You wouldn’t be able to take it off of me!”

  With a chuckle, I wiped my BBQ sauce-covered fingers on a napkin and told him, “To be honest, I’ve barely even worn it.

  “What? Why not?!” he asked hysterically, damn near flying out of his patio chair as Selena reached over to calm him down with a hand to his forearm and quietly scolded, “Daddy, mind your business.”

  While I appreciated her trying to be protective of my complicated story, I was quick to tell her, “Nah, it’s cool, Selena,” releasing a heavy sigh before I finally answered, “After the last game of the finals, I found out my grandmother passed. And by the time the ring ceremony rolled around the following season, I was barely present enough to appreciate it since it represented something I still wasn’t quite ready to accept; that while I was bustin’ my ass for that ring, she was taking her last breaths.”

  Now that the information was out there, I could see the uncomfortable look on everyone’s faces, Darla being the first one to break the tension when she stood up with Selena’s brother in her arms and announced, “I’m... gonna go put the baby down for his nap.”

  “Let me come with you, babe. Tell my boy sweet dreams,” Selena’s father followed, pushing out of his chair to excuse himself for what I knew was less about the baby’s nap and more about taking a break from the heaviness of my response.

  Honestly, I was fine with that, glad to have it out instead of always keeping it bottled in. Though that didn’t stop Selena from leaning over my way to say, “Dre, I’m so sorry about that.”

  Shaking my head, I told her, “Don’t be. I’m good, really. People seem to understand me better when they know the full truth.”

  Nodding to agree, she added a little smirk when she asked, “Well you know you’re like his best friend now, right? I mean, I’m gettin’ all the cool points around here for bringing a Trojans legend to the cookout.”

  Because she was so obviously trying to lighten the mood, I joined in, cocking my head to tease, “Damn. So I’m the first? Your boy Kage might feel a way that I beat him to it.”

  “Oh, shut up!” she squealed with a smack to my arm that didn’t slow me down. />
  “I’m just sayin’. He’s probably warming up his Twitter fingers as we speak.”

  “Will you stop?” she half-giggled half-whined, making me chuckle too as I told her, “Nah, I’m just fuckin’ with you. Ain’t nobody worried about that lil’ nigga with the pornstar name.”

  Snapping her head back, she repeated, “Pornstar name? Kage Steele is… oh my God, it does kinda sound like a pornstar name!”

  Of course she’d yelled it just loud enough to draw a few eyes from her other family members congregated in the backyard. But thankfully, they were also in the middle of an intense game of dominoes which meant the attention didn’t last long, a frown on my lips as I groaned, “I still can’t believe his ass put my mugshot on a t-shirt. Like, what would make him even think to do some stupid shit like that?”

  “I don’t know, but I kinda want one now,” Selena admitted, waiting until I snapped my eyes her way to add, “Not from him, and not to wear in public. But just to have, as a keepsake.”

  “You better not,” I warned, catching the challenging look of, “What are you gonna do about it” already brewing in Selena’s eyes as her father returned to his seat and changed the subject.

  “So when’s your next game, baby girl?”

  Averting her eyes like she had to think about it, she used her fingers to list, “We fly to Atlanta tomorrow for a game the day after. And then we go to Chicago for a game before coming back to play Phoenix here at home.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll be at the Phoenix game then,” her father replied as he pulled out a damn pocket calendar, tempting me to laugh until I saw the legitimately shocked expression on Selena’s face when she asked, “You will?”

  With an easy nod, he was already flipping to this month when he answered, “Yeah. I know I haven’t been able to make it to any so far this season, but I miss watching you play in person.”

  “And I miss seeing you in the crowd, Daddy,” Selena gushed, her grin wide and her doe eyes looking even bigger than usual as she looked on the verge of happy tears.

  Because of who Selena was, she didn’t let them fall though, just smiling on as her father shared, “I remember when Selena couldn’t stand having me at her games. “Stop yelling, Daddy!”, “You aren’t the coach, Daddy!”, “I can’t shoot every shot, Daddy!” Now look at you. My have the tides turned.”

  With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Selena groaned, “Anyway. I’ll be sure to leave some tickets at Will Call for you and your family.”

  “Our family, Selena,” her father corrected, reaching to give her hand a squeeze that Selena seemed to appreciate once she quietly agreed.

  “Yeah, that too.”

  The whole thing was touching as hell to witness; especially knowing the backstory of their relationship since, according to Selena, this was who they’d been before when it was just the two of them. So to see them making baby steps in the right direction was inspiring to say the least; though that inspiration was destroyed almost instantly when I checked my phone to find a text I’d received over an hour ago from an old friend and neighbor back in St. Louis.

  “Your mother is having another episode outside of the house.” - Porscha

  “Did you try to talk to her?” - Dre

  Doing my best to rejoin the conversation with Selena and her father, I gave nods when appropriate in regard to how the season had been going so far. But it was still hard to focus, even more so when I finally received a response.

  “Of course I did, but she’s on one.” - Porscha

  “No surprise,” I thought, keying out the only response that made sense since there was really nothing else I could do about it from here in Nashville.

  “Call the police.” - Dre

  “In this climate?! Are you crazy?!” - Porscha

  I hated how right she was, knowing just how easily a simple trespassing call involving my unstable mother could turn into the unthinkable with the police involved. And because I really had no other choice since there was no one I trusted to handle the situation, I decided I’d just have to make the trip, letting Porscha know that when I replied, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” before breaking the news to the Samuels.

  Clearing my throat, I interrupted their conversation to announce, “I hate to dash early, but I have somethin’ I need to go handle.”

  While Selena was already giving me a look of concern in response, her father was completely chill when he offered, “No worries, son. It was great having you over.” Then he pulled out his phone to say, “Baby girl, get a picture of me and DeAndre so I can show all my Facebook friends,” standing up and moving to my side of the table to pose before requesting, “Okay, okay. Now let me get one of you two together.”

  “Daddy, don’t post this one on Facebook. I don’t wanna start any rumors,” Selena insisted as she moved to my side, my arm already tossed over her shoulder when I bent to whisper in her ear, “Are they really rumors though?”

  “Shut up, Dre,” she replied through her smile, her father taking enough pictures to make an album of before sending me to say goodbye to everyone else which turned into even more pictures.

  Because it was better than the stares they’d given me earlier, I rolled with it, saving my most important goodbye for last after Selena volunteered to walk me to my car. And though I could still feel the concern surrounding my abrupt exit in her demeanor, I did my best to put her at ease when I smiled to say, “I’ll see you later, Ms. Samuels. Thanks again for the invite.”

  “You sure you don’t wanna take a plate to-go?” she asked, catching my car door once I opened it to climb in.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m not going straight home, and I don’t want my whip smelling like BBQ.”

  “Well be safe. Wherever you’re headed,” she said with a sigh that told me she was struggling not to bombard me with questions.

  I appreciated her efforts, but I also knew there was nothing I really wanted her to worry about. So instead of even putting anything specific in her mind to be concerned with, I simply replied, “I’ll explain everything later, okay?”

  “Yeah, aight,” she muttered with a subtle roll of her eyes that had me groaning her name. And this time, she seemed to mean it when she said, “Okay, okay. I heard you, Dre. Later,” heading back to the house and leaving me to figure out my exact move.

  Flying would’ve been the smart thing to do, but it was also the thing I hated most. And since I really wasn’t interested in handling the logistics of that anyway, I decided to hit the road for the almost five-hour drive that I’d done more times than I cared to count.

  It was almost midnight when I pulled up to my grandmother’s house to find my mother passed out in the chair on the front porch. It was the same chair my grandmother used to watch over the entire block from and the chair I refused to move even after all these years as if she’d ever be back to sit in it.

  “I’d do anything to see her sitting in this chair again,” I thought to myself with a heavy sigh, staring hard at the person who was sitting in it with a mix of emotions.

  Anger, disappointment, and annoyance were just a few. But instead of letting my feelings get involved, I decided to be tactical when I gave her shoulder a shake and demanded, “Jeri, get up.”

  Because of whatever substance that had brought her here in the first place, it took a minute for her to really respond, her eyes bloodshot red when they finally cracked open to see who was disturbing her. And once she realized it was me, she gave a smile that was missing a few more teeth than the last time we spoke, her voice especially raspy when she said, “Oh hey, baby. I didn’t know you were in town.”

  Instead of letting her take the conversation somewhere else, I stayed on the topic at hand when I reminded her, “Jeri, you know you ain’t supposed to be anywhere near here, so what are you doin’?”

  Frowning, she sat up a little straighter - and wobbled in the process - before wagging her finger my way to respond, “What do you mean, what am I doin’? This is my mother’s house! Th
is is where I grew up! I can be here!”

  Now that she called herself getting loud with me, I knew I didn’t have much time before she caused another scene, keeping my voice as leveled as possible when I told her, “You gotta go, man.”

  Of course that only seemed to rile her up even more as she popped up from her seat and stumbled while shouting, “She was my mother! Not yours, Dre! Mine!”

  “Well she was more of a mother to me than you could’ve ever been!” I snapped, more mad at myself for letting this situation take me there than I was at her for being, well, her.

  I mean, I really hadn’t even come here to fight with her; just to make sure that she didn’t do anything crazy and that my grandmother’s house remained in the same condition. But I shouldn’t have been surprised that it turned into this, my mother bursting into tears as she confessed, “Dre baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I just miss her. I miss her so much. I miss her every day.”

  “Yeah, I do too,” I replied quietly, my heart growing heavy as I stared at the now empty chair wondering how different things could’ve been if she hadn’t left us all those years ago.

  Would my mother have eventually gotten the help she needed?

  Would I still be in the league?

  Would we finally be functioning like a normal family instead of this shit show I was dealing with now?

  As if she could read my mind, my mother started reminiscing on one of our few “normal” moments from the past, leaning against one of the porch’s posts to ask, “Remember on the fourth when she’d always yell at me for bringing you a round of black cats to set off?”

  Because it was one of very few fond memories I had with my mother from my childhood and one of the few things I knew I could always look forward to as far as her inconsistent visits went throughout the year, it was hard not to grin a little when I answered, “Yeah, I remember.”