“You came here with my sister; I don’t know this guy from the doorman at my building,” I lied. I knew Thomas, the doorman at my condo, and his wife and three kids, but she didn’t know that.
“I’m a grown woman who can take care of herself,” Kamara snapped back.
I wanted to reply that I could see she was a grown woman, with her full curves covered in her oversized sweater, and her tights that she wore with her boots, and her long hair, layered over her large breasts. I bit my lip, trying to control my thoughts from coming out of my mouth. “Kamara, why do you have to fight me on everything? Just get in the car.”
“Kamara please get in the car before he acts like an ass out here,'' Luna pleaded, knowing how I got if I didn’t get my way. I wouldn’t call myself an asshole, but I do have my ways to get what I want.
“Fine. Only because it’s you, Luna. Doug, I’ll call you later,” Kamara said, waving bye to him.
“Not if I can help it,” I muttered to myself.
“What did you say?” Kamara asked.
“Nothing,” I replied, holding the door open for her and my sister.
I went to the driver’s side of my Jeep and jumped in. I glanced through the rearview mirror at Kamara, biting on her fingernails nervously. I thought it was cute. I turned the radio up and backed out of the parking space, then drove out of the stadium before it could get too crowded with people leaving. I headed to the red light that led out to the street traffic.
Luna turned around in her seat.
“Are you coming to my place or going home?” she asked Kamara.
“Home,” Kamara said.
We made eye contact in the mirror and she rolled her eyes and I chuckled. Luna hit me in the chest.
“What’s so funny?” Luna had a sneaky look on her face.
“Nothing, put Kamara’s address in the navigation center.”
She typed in her address, and I hit the freeway from downtown Los Angeles, heading toward Glendale on the 101. Our parents lived in Calabasas and came down for my games often. Luna stayed in North Hollywood. So, family gatherings were few and far between with my schedule.
I took another glance in the mirror, and Kamara’s head was leaned back against the seat, staring out the window. I tried to think of something to get her interested in having a conversation with me and decided that I would pick her brain about that Doug character.
“Who’ s Doug?” I said out loud to no one in particular.
Luna and Kamara looked at me. “A friend from the office,” Luna answered.
I nodded, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel to Coldplay’s latest song. “Is he your boyfriend?” I asked Luna. Hopefully, she’d answer yes, and my curiosity would be fulfilled for the day.
“Nope. I’m single and not looking for anything,” Luna replied.
“What about you, Kamara?” I switched lanes, getting off the freeway ramp.
“I don’t date,” Kamara replied.
“What? Why?”
“Here we go,” Luna groaned, covered her face with her hand and lowered herself in the seat.
“Men unfortunately aren’t to my level of being able to handle me,” Kamara said, shrugging her shoulders.
“What level?”
“Please don’t start her on this conversation Donovan,” Luna begged right when I pulled up out front of her apartment building.
“The level that you’ll never learn about. Call me when you get home, Luna.” Kamara rushed out, opened then closed the door, walked up to her apartment, and stepped inside a few minutes later.
“Just tell her you're in love with her already,” Luna commented and I grunted, nudging her in the shoulder.
“I don’t love her.”
“Donovan you're always pissing her off and then get mad when you see any guy talking to her or in her space.”
“I do that with you too. As a big brother I need to make sure you're protected.”
Luna waved me off and turned the radio to a different station. I shook my head, got back on the freeway, and headed to her place.
A little while later, I pulled into my garage and turned my Jeep off. I stepped out with my gym bag and headed inside to the elevator. I wasn’t ready to purchase a house—even though I had the money to do so—because I wanted to do that with someone once I found the girl who I would spend the rest of my life with. Until then, the expensive Beverly Hills condo would have to be my place of residence. They had all the great amenities, like a pool, gym, media center, and private balconies. I even had the top floor, which held a second level, where my bedroom was, and there was a second bedroom and bathroom downstairs.
I slid my key into the lock and dropped the bag near the door, then fell face-first onto the couch and released a long-held yawn. I was beyond exhausted and would have to take the next few days off to relax and catch up on my sleep before we had to practice for the big game.
I could feel myself drifting off to sleep when my phone buzzed. I lifted it out of my pocket and saw that Luna was texting me.
Luna: Congrats again. Love you!
Me: Thanks, bighead.
Luna: Fuck you.
Me: Telling Mom you cursed.
Luna: Telling Kamara you slept with our friend Kingsley from college.
I wiped my eyes to make sure I read her message correctly. That was a secret I didn’t think anyone knew about, but me and Kingsley. We slept together once and that was because she and I ended up at a party together and I didn’t know she and my sister were friends at the time.
Me: Don’t get your ass kicked, little girl.
Luna: LOL! Love you, too, big bro.
I started to respond but decided to leave it alone for now and close the message thread. I rose from the couch and sauntered to the bedroom to kick off my shoes and drop my pants and shirt in the hamper. I headed into the bathroom for a shower, and then bed.
Donovan
The doorbell was driving me crazy and pulling me out of the best dream I’d had in a long time. I threw the covers off my head and checked the time on my Apex watch.
“8 AM,” I grunted, tossing the covers to the side. I ran a hand over my hair and stretched. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time, and someone had decided to show up at my place early in the morning to ruin what little moments I had to myself before I had to show up at practice. My stomach grumbled, and I adjusted my shaft in my boxers, then picked up my shirt and sweats from the dresser to answer the door. Whoever was knocking was pissing me off. I was glad to not have a lot of neighbors near me on the top floor, with the way they kept ringing the doorbell.
I yanked the door open and glared at Savion, Reuben, and Paolo, our other friend from college. He didn’t take the football route like us and pursued a business degree instead. Now, he was my agent.
“Someone looks grumpy.” Savion held up a bag of food and lifted his brows, pushed the door wider and stepped inside.
“Blame Savion. I needed to talk about a business opportunity,” Paolo said. He was wearing his usual suit and tie.
“Do you not believe in calling first?”
Savion flopped down on the couch, kicked his legs up and passed the boxes of food around.
I shut the door and went to the back to brush my teeth and wash my face before I kicked him out. I checked my phone and saw missed calls from Paolo, Savion, and Reuben discussing something. I saw notification alerts and clicked on one of the articles with my name as the headline.
“Football star signing boobs like a rock star. Give me a break,” Ben Simmons said.
“Can big game come to the Los Angeles Hawks once again?” The news article mentioned. I mumbled to myself.
“After ten years in the league, is he washed up?” I repeated the third headline that was talking about me.
I threw my phone on the bed and headed to the bathroom. I stared in the mirror. I’d turned thirty-two not long ago, and I had plans to possibly retire when I hit thirty-five if I didn’t love the game anymore. I was starting to
think that might come sooner if I had to deal with that bullshit.
Finally dressed, I went back to the living room and kicked Savion’s feet off the table. He flipped me off. I grabbed the extra box of food that was left for me and took a bite of the omelet and pancakes.
Savion was the joker of the group and didn’t take things too seriously—unless it involved football. We’d been best friends since high school, and our families had stayed in touch over the years after his parents divorced while he was in college.
Reuben was the baby of the bunch, with his long hair always up in a bun on top of his head. He had a knack for getting us caught up into trouble. No matter where we went, he’d either be flirting with some girl, making her boyfriend jealous, or possibly having girls fight over him.
Then we had Paolo, the serious one out of all four of us, and we liked to call him “Preacher” since he was always the go-to person for advice and was always preaching about how we should be living our lives without multiple women and sticking to one woman instead.
Me, I was a mixture of all of them, and they called me “Champ” because I was always scoring in some way.
“You see the article?” Paola asked.
I nodded with my mouth full of food. Paolo knew I didn’t do interviews or kiss ass. So, he was trying to test the waters to see if I’ll respond. I won’t, especially knowing Simmons will just keep poking.
“He’s trying to piss me off.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t help that you buy into his ways,” Savion replied, sipping on his orange juice. I grabbed one out of the box on the floor, twisted the top and gulped it down.
“He has it out for you, D. What did you do? Sleep with his girl or something?” Reuben questioned, then stole a piece of bacon off Savion’s plate and tossed it in his mouth.
I leaned back in the chair and thought about what I could have done to cause him so much aggravation, but nothing came to mind. I stuck to my friends and family, played ball, and lived my life. Was I perfect? Hell no, but no one could say I’d done anything majorly wrong, besides a few fights here and there—which weren’t started by me. People liked to test me, and they ended up finding out that I was more than just a jock who played ball.
“If I did sleep with one of his girls, it shouldn’t cause this many problems. He should be thanking me.” I wiggled my brows and they burst into laughter.
“Well, I’m glad you can say that, but I have to deal with the backlash. I think you should put out a statement,” Paolo said.
“No.”
He groaned and threw his hands up.
“How can I be your agent if you don’t listen to me, D?”
“I do listen to you.”
“60% of the time,” Paolo replied.
Reuben and Savion giggled like two little high school kids.
“Which means 60% of the time, you’re right,” I retorted.
They cackled at my reply. Paolo flipped me off, but he knew I was just kidding. Without him, I wouldn’t have been in the best position of my career. Every decision I’d made was alongside him, and I was grateful because I’d just signed a new contract last year for three years at $200M. The endorsement deals were pouring in, and Sutton wanted me to hire an assistant, but I didn’t feel like I needed one. She had one, though, so I tended to push everything off on her assistant whenever I could since she was always trying to flirt with me whenever Sutton was not around. She was good at helping me keep on track with everything. Plus, she’d been working with Sutton for the last six months and so far, she’d been on point—besides being a little starstruck at times. I had to remind her that she worked for Sutton, and what she did represented my brand in public.
“Listen to me, Donovan. The only way this can blow over is if you handle it head on,” Paolo explained and I grunted, running a hand down my face.
“I need to get to the gym. We have practice tomorrow try not to get into trouble in between time,” Savion mentioned, stood, grabbed his stuff, and took it to the trash.
“Let me ride with you.” I went to my bedroom and grabbed fresh gym clothes, my cell phone, keys, and wallet.
“Me too and drop me off at my friend's place on the way,” Reuben remarked, followed by Savion.
“Donovan, I’m serious. Get with your publicist and come up with something,” Paolo continued to complain as he walked out, with us behind him.
I was going to get a little workout in and stop at my parents’ house to hang out for a little bit. I slid into the passenger side of Savion’s BMW and pushed my seat back, then threw my shades on as the car left the parking structure.
“Normally I agree with you, D. But Paolo might be right about you doing some type of interview to control the narrative.” Savion talked over the music.
“Can we have one day without talking about what I need to do for my image?” I muttered, exhausted at the same conversation people kept having about me. Ben will write and talk about me nonstop and nothing I do will change his mind. Savion raised his hand in surrender and my phone buzzed and I lifted it out of my pocket.
“How are you getting to your parents?” Savion changed the subject.
“I’ll call a cab to take me there.”
“Cool,” Savion said.
I have a car at my parents’ place in Calabasas that I use whenever I stay. It’s my childhood home and I’ve tried multiple times to get them to move into a bigger place, but they refuse and never let me spoil them. In my father’s eyes he loves to keep working at the store, so I stop fighting, besides sending them on trips every year.
“Hello,” I answered the call.
“Donovan, why do I have to call you to find out your side of things?” Sutton, my publicist, said.
“What did I do now?” The car pulled in front of the private gym and I got out and grabbed my bag. Reuben took the keys from Savion and backed out of the parking lot, turned and drove off.
“You won’t see your car for a few days,” I said to him.
“Are you listening to me?” Sutton fussed.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“Donovan, you pay me a lot of money to keep shit from you. But you're making it harder on me,” Sutton responded.
“I’m at the gym, Sutton, sorry I can’t hear...Sorry...call.” I hung up the call and Savion chortled, and I shrugged. She’ll curse me out later so I might as well get a workout in before shit hits the fan even more. We walked through the front entrance of the team’s private gym and headed to the locker room and changed clothes.
“You think we got a chance at the ring?” Savion questioned, dumping his bag inside his locker and changing his shirt.
We had a few weeks before the big game, and my nerves were high in anticipation. We were going against our rivals, the New York Stingers, and it would be the most-watched game in history. My rival quarterback, Julian Anderson, was known to talk shit but could barely follow up. That wasn’t me being cocky; Julian took the cake as the most egotistical person I’d ever met. Our rivalry went back to us both vying for the position of team captain in college, and a few times, it ended in blows.
“Yep. If we just stay focused, we’ll bring another ring home.” I shut the locker door and headed out of the room. I went to the weight benches. I lay on my back, adjusted the weights, and started counting in my head.
Savion came in with two towels and bottles of water and stood at the next weight machine. The quietness in the gym helped calm the craziness of the upcoming game, and what I needed to do to get us to the finish line. This would be my second time taking us to the big game in seven years, and I was hopeful to bring the city another win.
“Shit!” Savion blurted out and my eyes popped open.
“What?”
He pointed at the TV screen and I glanced over to see Julian talking with Ben and the message scrolling at the bottom had me ready to kick his ass again. Donovan Hunt is scared to face me. In college he tried to cheat to win.
“That motherfucker is lying.” I sat
up not believing what was happening. I knew Julian and I didn’t like each other, but this jackass was trying to take me down.
“Call Sutton so she can get ahead of this, and I’ll talk with Coach,” Savion said, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
I bent down to grab my phone, and it was already blowing up with missed calls and text messages.
Dad: Call me.
Luna: Donovan call me now. Reporters want a statement.
Paolo: Get your ass on a call now with me.
I closed out of the messages, hit the contact for Sutton, and listened as she picked up on the first ring.
“I already saw it.” Sutton blew out a frustrated breath.
“How can he get away with this?”
“You never want to talk, and he got in first. It’s a setup, Donovan.”
“I’ve never cheated in my life.”
“I know that, but the public doesn’t care. It’s about the perception.” I heard rustling on the other end of the call with Sutton talking to somebody else.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, knowing Sutton could fix it before it went any further. Sutton was the smartest person I knew. She was like a little sister to me, and we constantly butted heads, but she meant well. We’d met through Paolo, when she was looking to start her own business as a publicist and needed clients. Funny, because Savion had a huge crush on her, but she didn’t take him seriously when it came to dating; he was like me, and she didn’t play about her heart. She and Savion reminded me of the situation with me and Kamara. Both women were beautiful, with their glowing, chestnut skin tone, perfectly arched brows, soft, small hands, and thick, wide curves. The only difference was that I saw Sutton Parks as more of a friend, and nothing sexual.
“I know you won’t like this, but I had an idea to do an interview to squash all the nonsense.”
“No.”
“Donovan you pay me to fix things and this will do that. You need to be open and let people know you're not just the jerk they think you are.”
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Fine, but who am I doing the interview with?”
“I’ll let you know later, because you’ll fight me on this, and I’ve had enough of your mouth today.” Sutton huffed and ended the call on me like I did earlier.
She's All I Need(A Sports Romance) Page 2