That seemed to lock her right back in, one single nod being the only thing she responded with before leaving to join the team. And because this was my last go-round, I took my time following her, savoring every moment on my way out to the court that was rocking with noise thanks to the packed-out crowd decked in cardinal red and silver.
I wasn’t sure what kind of fandemonium the Trojans were bringing in these days, but I knew it was nothing like this, the enthusiasm reminding me more of a college atmosphere than a professional. And this time with it being our home crowd instead of Seattle’s, the squad was able to use the excitement as fuel, giving us a comfortable ten-point lead that allowed Selena to get a little rest on the bench going into the second quarter.
Unfortunately, with her out of the game, that lead dwindled from ten to two in no time. But once Selena got back in, everything changed, lil’ baby taking that message of showing them what she was made of to heart with every bucket she scored on offense, every steal she got on defense, and all the little things she did in between to give us the advantage going into halftime.
“Two more quarters, ladies. Two more quarters and that title is ours,” was the base of Sugar’s message; a simple yet effective approach according to the fire we came into the second half with. But Seattle came with a little fire of their own, causing us to trade baskets back and forth until we found ourselves all tied up going into the final quarter of the game.
It was intense, with neither team going away easy. And with so much at stake, that was expected. Everybody was playing their asses off and everybody was tired, but no one was giving up. And of course that included Selena who was all sweat, a little bit of blood thanks to a few random scratches on her arms, and tears I assumed she was holding back since she wouldn’t dare shed them on a stage like this.
Not until she finished the job.
With twelve seconds left on the clock and possession of the ball after Seattle threw it out of bounds, we found ourselves with an opportunity to do just that, Sugar calling a timeout to draw up a play that would break the tied score and give us the win. But when she charged “Sharpie” with the task of taking the last shot, I saw Selena visibly panic, shaking her head as she insisted, “It doesn’t have to be me. It can be someone else.”
“No, Sharpie. I trust you,” Sugar pressed, moving on to recap everyone else’s job on the play. But my focus was on Selena who still didn’t look quite sure of herself, only halfway listening as another assistant coach went on some pseudo-motivational spiel before the buzzer sounded signaling the end of the timeout.
Before she could hit the court, I caught Selena by the arm to remind her, “It’s already in you.” And even though she nodded to let me know she’d heard me, I still wasn’t sure how well she’d actually absorbed my message, my heart pounding as I watched the Nymphs set up exactly what Sugar had drawn up before inbounding the ball.
It looked like Mikayla was wasting time as she dribbled at the top of the key. But really, she was just patiently waiting for everything to play out the way Sugar had written up. And with five seconds left, Selena popped open off a screen from Talia, Mikayla throwing the pass with perfect timing and giving Selena a clean look at the rim for a shot that soared through the air in slow motion before nicking the inside of the hoop and popping back out.
Shit.
Even though it wasn’t the end of the world since it only meant we were headed into overtime, I could tell it felt that way to Selena, her head down as she stood in the same spot she’d taken the shot from with her hands on her hips in defeat until Mikayla threw her arm over her shoulder to guide her off the court. But even when she returned to the bench, her jersey was pulled over her mouth as she looked to be fighting back tears, Sugar giving her a bit of tough love when she advised, “Save the waterworks, Sharpie. This game is far from over.”
Just like with me, Selena gave Sugar one of those empty nods as Coach went on to explain our approach for the extra period. And with the sound of the buzzer, Selena was forced to either go big or go home, lowkey doing a combination of both as she shared the load of the overtime fight with her teammates who were all playing their best ball leading into yet another tied game going into the final moments.
This time around, Seattle had possession of the ball, giving them an opportunity to burn the shot clock and win the game on a last second shot. But with no timeouts left, they had to play it out without being able to draw up a specific plan, giving us a bit of an advantage on defense as our girls stayed in their faces with Sugar yelling out a reminder, “No fouls! No fouls!”
The clock was ticking down and Seattle had yet to get a clean look at anything, giving me the assumption that they were okay with going into a second overtime. But when one of their players went for a slick backdoor cut towards the rim late in the shot clock, I thought they’d gotten us until Mikayla stepped in to intercept the pass, securing the ball and throwing it up court to Selena who must’ve predicted the steal considering how open she already was.
I mean, there was literally no one within a few steps of her as she dribbled on a fastbreak towards our hoop. And with the clock running out, she went up for an easy lay-up that bounced into the rim just as the buzzer sounded, the arena going up as the bench cleared out to storm the court in celebration.
As coaches, we stayed back to hug each other as the team created a dog pile on top of Selena in the middle of the floor. But the second she could make it out, she did, dashing over to me to jump into my arms and plant the biggest kiss on my lips like she didn’t give a fuck who was watching.
I for sure didn’t give a fuck, savoring the salty taste of her lips as she pecked me over and over again before whispering against them, “We did it, Dre.”
“You did it, Selena. This was all you. So fuckin’ proud of you.”
My face was wet with a combination of her tears, her sweat, and shit, a little bit of my tears too. But I wasn’t ashamed to cry happy tears for my woman, understanding what this moment meant to her now and would mean to her forever.
No matter what happened with the rest of her career, with the baby, with us, she would always have this to call her own. And that deserved to be celebrated, though I still found room to tease, “I think you might’ve broken the curse from that shit I did back in high school with that lay-up you just made to win the game. Think you might’ve redeemed our family.”
I was really only messing around since that miss way back when had nothing to do with her. But in this moment, she could do nothing but smile, licking her lips to repeat, “Our family. I like the sound of that.”
Epilogue
three months later.
It was Christmas day.
And instead of spending my time playing in some meaningless game overseas or lounging at home alone in comfy pajamas, I was sitting in the family and friends’ section at the Trojans game, happily cheering my man on as he did nothing but hold a clipboard.
He looked good as hell holding that clipboard though. The best clipboard holder in the whole NBA, making a ridiculous amount of money to do just that which meant I was going to support him every step of the way.
But really, it was about a lot more than just him holding the clipboard. It was about him doing what was necessary to provide for our growing family. It was about him finally being welcomed back into the league even if it wasn’t as the player he once was; a comeback that a lot of people didn’t see for him considering the way he’d left the game. And it was about him making the most of his opportunity with the Nymphs that had turned into this opportunity with the Trojans; one of my favorite things to tease him about since that meant I’d successfully kicked him out of our league.
Bottomline, I was proud of him. And I was proud of us. And I was happy to be showing off my cute little baby bump that we’d just gone public about with a cheesy holiday-themed post on Instagram; a post that had been picked up by ESPN, Spilling That Hot Tea, and every page in between.
Surprisingly, the response had bee
n all positive, the media speaking on it for the love story that it was instead of the scandalous shit it could’ve gotten filed under. But even if they had gone that route, I was too enamored to care, still riding the high of the championship to let any internet troll kill my joy.
The championship.
Somehow, it still didn’t feel real; like that game five had been a dream instead of the very hard-fought victory that it was. But honestly, I wouldn’t have had it any other way, happy to have shared such a special moment with the two people I loved most; Jordan DeAndre Leonard and our big head baby who seemed to be growing by the hour.
With that growth came an appetite out of this world, so I was thrilled when I saw Jayde finally returning from the concession stand with another source of joy - food. A while back, we’d made plans to have wine and catch up. But since I obviously couldn’t do that anymore and Jayde had her own reasons to be at the game, this worked out perfectly, Jayde handing a tray my way as she said, “Alright, Champ. Here’s the nachos you said you wanted; jalapenos on the side cause I wasn’t sure if baby Leonard liked it spicy or not.”
With a giggle, I thanked her as we both settled in for the second half, a smile on my face as I watched her watch her favorite player do his thing. And because I knew how happy they were together, I couldn’t help rubbing my stomach and teasing, “You know y’all got next, right?”
“Girl. Do you see how big that man is? I already hurt from hole to hole just thinking about it,” she joked, the both of us cracking up laughing as we tuned in to the rest of the game.
Thankfully, the Trojans pulled off an easy win, keeping the holiday spirit flourishing as Jayde and I made our way down to the court to catch up with our men. But before Dre could even get to me, Kage stepped up to tease, “You know that baby should’ve been mine, right?” making me chuckle as Dre teasingly pushed him out of the way from behind.
After the drama between them during the Nymphs season, it was cool to see how they’d grown to take a liking to each other, Dre apparently seeing something in Kage that reminded him of himself coming up. But to me, they were totally different, making me grateful for my decision early on to not pursue one in favor of letting things play out with the other who was currently wrapping me in a hug to ask, “How you feelin’, lil’ baby? You good?”
“I’m excellent.”
“You look excellent,” Dre complimented with a smirk, planting a kiss on my lips before telling me to stay put while he ran to the locker room. And now that the crowd had mostly cleared out, it somehow felt eerie being on the court like I hadn’t just spent an entire season here; I suppose because my body knew it might be a while before I got back.
Maybe if we hadn’t won the title this year, I’d be more pressed about my return. But because we had, I was honestly looking forward to my break away from the game. I mean, basketball had been my world for so long, the only thing I really cared about, the only thing that ever received my undivided attention. But now I had some new things to give that same energy to, a smile on my face just thinking about it until I saw my baby daddy jogging out of the tunnel changed out of his designer coaching suit into a replica of my Nymphs uniform.
“Dre, what the hell?” I giggled, watching as he grabbed a ball from the rack to dribble my way.
“You owe me a rematch. Check up,” he answered with a hard bounce pass in my direction, the ball landing perfectly in my hands before I propped it against my hip to respond.
“Dre, I am not about to play you.”
“Why not? You scared?” he challenged, clearly trying to get under my skin.
But I wasn’t falling for it, only smirking as I told him, “Don’t test me.”
Of course, instead of accepting my request, he did the exact opposite, shaking his head while he taunted, “Get one little championship and now you runnin’ from the competition. Damn. You hate to see it.”
“Dre…”
“Nah, it’s cool,” he insisted. “If I were you, I wouldn’t wanna play me either.”
“Ah, fuck it,” I groaned, dropping the ball to my feet to remove the jacket I had on while asking, “What are we playing to?”
“Same as last time,” he answered excitedly before reminding me of our rules. “First to five, counting by ones and twos. Make it, take it.”
“Bet,” I agreed, finally checking the ball up to start our game. And for us to have been just messing around, I still broke a little bit of a sweat, quickly realizing that I was a lot further along than I had been the last time I picked up a ball as I scored point four of five.
“Game point, big baby. You better guard me,” I taunted, catching the ball he’d passed to me on a check-up before I turned around to back him down to the rim. But when I put a little umph in it on my pursuit of the hoop, Dre flopped, falling to the ground with claims of an offensive foul that had me turning around to argue the call until I discovered he was on one knee.
The ball became irrelevant since I needed a hand to cover my mouth, bouncing off to nowhere as Dre grabbed my free one to say, “Selena, I am and will forever be your biggest fan. You’ve been a bright spot in my life, a perfectly-timed gift from God, a challenge in the best way possible. And I love you for it. I am in love with you. I’m in love with what we’re becoming, and if you’ll have me, I wanna make it official.”
I was touched on so many levels, but somehow still found room to joke, “If?”
“You kinda hardheaded, so…” he teased, catching a smack to the shoulder that had him cracking up laughing before he pulled a ring box from his pocket and continued, “Nah, in all seriousness. Selena “SeSa” Samuels, will you marry me?”
Like he truly didn’t know what I was going to say once he opened the box, there was this adorable nervous glimmer in his eyes as he gave me some time to think it over. But really, there was nothing for me to think about. We were already bonded, already a team. And there was no one I wanted on my squad for life more than Dre, grinning my ass off as I answered, “Absolutely.”
With a grin of his own, he slipped the ring on my finger before hugging himself against my belly. And while the moment brought tears to my eyes, the fact that we were in the middle of playing for game point before this all happened reminded me, “But wait. We still have to finish our game.”
There was no way in hell I was letting him escape taking a loss like he did the last time, not even after his beautiful, thoughtful, pussy-wetting proposal. But when he stood up from the ground just to look down at me and lick his lips, I realized it no longer mattered, feeling so in love when he replied, “Nah. I already won.”
the end.
Extras
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Also by Alexandra Warren
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An Encore For Love
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In Spite of it All
Accidental Arrangements
Heated Harmonies
If Only for the Summer
In His Corner
The Games We Play (FWB Book 1)
The Lessons We Learn (FWB Book 2)
Wins & Losses
Building 402 Series (Book 1-3)
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Baggage Claimed
chive.
One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2) Page 21