She's All I Need(A Sports Romance)

by Chiquita Dennie

  “Ridiculous,” I mumbled to myself, started the car, turned the lights on and pulled off from the back alley way toward home. It was around nine at night, so traffic wasn’t as heavy on the main streets.

  Thirty minutes later, I pulled into my private parking space in the garage. I eased out of the car and shut the door. I looked up at the security guard and marched through the side door of the private entrance, then went to the elevator doors. They opened, and I stepped on, leaning back in the corner and thinking about the long week I had coming up before the big game.

  Less than five minutes later, I made it inside and stripped off my shirt and jacket. I dropped the keys on the hook and went to shower and head to bed. Hopefully, Tabitha had gotten the message and wouldn’t bug me again.

  Kamara

  Wishful thinking would be getting through this interview without having to get out of character. Today, of all days, I’d ended up oversleeping, and then I got a ticket on my car for not moving it on one of the cleanup days. To me, the city was ripping people off with the high costs of street cleaning. Yes, I had a parking space, but I was too tired from work yesterday to even park in my garage. On top of that, I had to deal with Donovan’s antics at his parents’ house and him taking my phone.

  “Asshole,” I muttered to myself.

  I decided to wear black pants with a white button-up shirt and heels for once since it was a professional setting with photographers around, and possibly TV cameras. What I didn’t expect was to spill coffee on myself after picking it up from Cafe Sin. Plus, I had no time to go back home and change, and Sutton had been calling and texting me all morning.

  I finally arrived at his condo and waited to be let up to his place. The receptionist was looking at me like I’d stolen something from her.

  “What are you doing here again?” the receptionist with fiery red hair and pink lipstick asked.

  I needed to remember to stay calm and not let myself be taken out of character. This was the third time she’s asked me that question and I politely said what I had to do today.

  “Is Sutton on her way down?” I ignored her questions and asked my own.

  “I tried calling upstairs but didn’t get an answer.”

  If she didn’t wear all that makeup and changed her attitude she would come across as a likeable person.

  “There you are!” Sutton called out and I glanced her way and smiled.

  “Finally. Waiting forever,” I lied. It had only been 10 minutes.

  “I tried calling upstairs but didn’t get an answer,” the receptionist told her.

  “Didn’t we say to let her up automatically and I left her name with you,” Sutton remarked, and my eyes drew into slits.

  “Wow.” I was speechless after hearing that.

  “Sorry, but we run tight security around here,” she replied.

  “What’s your name again?” Sutton asked. She looked at me for help. I kept my mouth closed and headed for the elevator door, then waited for Sutton.

  “Lindsey,” I heard her say.

  “Lindsey, I suggest you do your job and not get on my shit list. I promise it’s not a good place to be,” Sutton said and sauntered back to the elevator and we got on together when the door buzzed allowing entry.

  “Sorry about that,” Sutton said.

  “No worries, I figured you guys were busy.”

  “He’s still in the shower actually. Early morning practice,” Sutton explained, and I nodded.

  “Is the photographer here?”

  “Yep, and the videographer.”

  “Do you think the stylist will let me borrow a jacket to cover up?”

  I lifted my bag, showing the spilled coffee stain.

  “I have my wrap with me you could wear.”

  The doors opened, and I followed her toward his place. I’d never been to his house, but from Luna’s statement, I knew it would be a huge, fancy condo with two floors and high ceilings. Sutton pushed the door open, and my breath caught in a hitch. It was a massive, luxurious, surprisingly open space with photos of his family and football career on the walls. I hadn’t expected it to look so cozy and not like a bachelor pad.

  I noticed Kaci sitting next to the stylist, looking at the wardrobe. Over in the corner, a photographer was setting up lights. They pushed the glass table back to make space, left the black rug, and put two chairs up—probably for us to sit down and talk.

  “Here, you can wear this and do you mind letting the makeup artist touch you up?” Sutton asked.

  “Not too much, Sutton. I’m not doing a music video here,” I kidded, placed my bag on the couch and sifted through to grab what I needed for the interview.

  “I promise.” Sutton left me alone to head toward Kaci and I watched her direct everything around me from the food coming out of the kitchen I assume by the chef. They had everything laid out and my stomach started to growl.

  “Somebody’s hungry,” I heard from behind me.

  I twisted around, looking at Donovan Hunt’s mischievous smile. He smelled fresh and clean, with a hint of cologne. He was wearing a black V-neck shirt, black jeans, and socks.

  “D, nice to see you again.”

  The smile dropped from his face. He pressed his chest against me and dropped his hands to the back of the couch, locking me in place.

  He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “What did you call me?”

  “D... D... your nickname,” I stuttered.

  He pushed the piece of hair away from my face and our eyes locked in place. I felt a lump in my throat.

  “I told you to call me Donovan.”

  “I like D.”

  “Really?” He started to reach for his pants and unbuckle, I gasped.

  “Are you crazy?” I gritted my teeth and tried to push him away.

  “You just said you like D.”

  “Not like that, asshole,” I hissed, smacking his hands from my shoulders.

  “Then show me what you like. I aim to please.”

  “Donny stop messing with her and come over here,” Sutton said and I giggled at his expression. Sutton and his mom were the only ones that I know of who would call him Donny to fuck with him as a nickname.

  “Sutton, you’re blocking true love over here,” Donovan said.

  “I doubt that,” I mumbled and went under his arm and stood to the side of him with my notepad in my hand and tape recorder.

  “We’ll continue this later, Kam,” Donovan said.

  I ignored his comment, went to the food table, and picked up a few pieces of fruit to eat while they continued to set up.

  “Kamara, you're really close to Donovan right?” Kaci asked.

  “Not really, I’m friends with his sister.”

  “Oh.” Kaci looked back at Donovan then toward me.

  “So, you aren't sleeping together?”

  I nearly choked on the grape I just threw in my mouth and she reached around to pat me on the back. I raised my hand up to let her know I was fine.

  “I’m not sleeping with Donovan Hunt!” I screeched loudly, not realizing we weren’t alone.

  Sutton looked at us curiously.

  “Sorry, a blog post just came up on my phone.” I pretended my tape recorder was my phone.

  “Sorry, it just seemed like you two were very close over there.”

  “I’m friends with his sister and nothing more.”

  “Perfect! So, I have a chance with him.” Kaci smiled, and twirled a lock of her hair around and went back to helping Sutton.

  “We're ready, Kamara,” Sutton said.

  I picked up a bottle of water and headed over to the makeup artist’s chair. I let her place a little foundation on me.

  “You really don’t need much. Your skin is beautiful,” she said, lifting the bronzer and brush.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re all set. It didn’t take much.”

  I stood and checked myself out in the mirror and smiled. The makeup was light and fresh against my skin and gave me a
little pop.

  “I’m ready, Sutton,” Donovan said and I walked over to the middle of the living room and sat across from him and crossed my leg on top of the other, they checked the lighting and backdrop.

  “Anytime you're ready, Mara,” Sutton said and I nodded, clearing my throat.

  “Mr. Hunt, thank you for being here today to talk about the allegations against you.”

  “Not allegations. They are lies,” he replied, staring at me with his hands clasped together in his lap. His legs were wide open, showing off what all the women fell all over themselves about.

  “You say lies, Ben and Julian made it seem more like allegations you should be trying to clear up.”

  He shifted in his seat.

  “Tell me this, did you take drugs in college?”

  “No.”

  “So why do you think Julian made that statement?”

  “Simple, he’s jealous and scared to lose in the big game.”

  “What about Ben Simmons?”

  “He’s upset I don’t kiss his ass like other people do.”

  “Do you think your reputation as a lady’s man is partially to blame?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation.

  “My reputation?”

  “Yes. I mean, the women throw themselves at you. Every other day, you're out with another woman.”

  “I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me, Kam,” Donovan responded.

  My brows shot up in alarm.

  “D, it’s hard to avoid when it’s on every social website. I mean they even have a page for Donovan's girls.”

  “You sound jealous.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, if you feel there’s something to explore…” Donovan said, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

  I felt warm all of a sudden, hands clammy, throat dry. He was challenging me in front of everyone.

  “Let’s stay on topic, Mr. Hunt. Are you prepared for the big game?” I asked a simple question to cool the tension.

  “I am. Are you going to be there? I know football’s not your thing and all. But maybe I could change your mind.”

  I glanced at Sutton. She was annoyed with the entire thing; I could tell by her posture. She was probably going to hate it after this.

  “What do you think your weakness and strength is going into the big day?”

  “Can’t give away any secrets, sweetheart.”

  “That means you’re holding back.”

  “It means I let my opponents know I’m ready whenever. Los Angeles Hawks are the team to beat,” Donovan bragged.

  “Cut!” Sutton yelled and the cameras stopped rolling.

  “How’d I do?” Donovan asked.

  “D, cut the shit and be professional. We’ll probably only have five minutes of this interview that we can use.” Sutton rolled her eyes at him.

  “I told you I didn’t want to do this,” Donovan complained as the makeup artist touched him up again.

  “I don’t care what you don’t want to do. Get through this, so I can take a vacation, please,” Sutton huffed, throwing her hands in the air and stomping back over to the other side of the camera.

  I laughed as Donovan mocked her tantrum.

  “Kamara!” Sutton yelled.

  I froze.

  “Huh?”

  “Focus please,” Sutton said.

  “Sorry,” I replied. We went on with more questions and then I watched in the background as he took photos for the Los Angeles Life newspaper and a sports magazine Sutton told me he was getting on the cover of. He was a natural with the camera. I could give him that for sure.

  Four hours later I was done and heading home on the freeway and stopped for takeout as my phone rang.

  “Hello?” I put my change back in my purse as I juggled the phone and food in my right hand, and purse in my left.

  “I was wondering when my child would call her mother.”

  I chuckled, opened the passenger door, and placed the food down.

  “Hi mommy.”

  “Don’t hi mommy me.”

  “Sorry for not calling you.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Stop being grumpy.”

  “I can be grumpy when my only child hasn’t called her mother in forever.”

  “See, you're getting dramatic; it’s only been two weeks.”

  “Two weeks too long.”

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “I’m not.” I started the ignition and checked my mirror before driving off back home on the freeway. The Chinese food smelled good and I couldn't wait to scarf it down while catching up on my reality TV shows.

  “Tell me anything. I want you to come for dinner, little lady.”

  “I will. I promise. This weekend.”

  “Good, now are you dating?”

  “We are not having this conversation.”

  “Now, you're keeping secrets from your parents.”

  “Momma, you are getting dramatic again. Stop watching those soap operas and put down your martinis,” I teased.

  “I’m not the only dramatic one in this family.”

  “Who Daddy?”

  “No, your cousin Kera. She divorced her second husband and moved back here,” Mom explained.

  As I drove home, she caught me up on all the juicy gossip about my cousin, who was around the same age as me. We hadn't seen each other in two or three years because she’d gotten married again and moved to Atlanta. Her mom and my mom were sisters, and we were close growing up, but as we got older, she became more interested in money and less in school and her career. I gave up on trying to hang out with her and live her unrealistic dream. Hopefully, she’d come back with a new attitude, and less opinions on my life choices.

  Kamara

  Two days later, I let Luna and Sutton talk me into going to a club since it was the weekend, and the interview had aired and made headlines. My social media and newspaper column blew up with notifications, shares, and people wanting me to come on the national circuit and talk about Donovan. I declined for the simple fact that I was a journalist before my interview with Donovan, and I would continue to be one after it. To me, it was a simple interview, but the news media saw more and thought we were dating and keeping it under wraps. I laughed when I read that and blew it off.

  Now, I was standing in Club Seduction and wearing the tiniest dress Luna could find and heels that I could barely stand in. I tried to get comfortable as the bottle girl came and brought our drinks.

  “I’m loving this music tonight and the men are scrumptious.” Luna giggled, sipping on her cocktail. She ordered three Get Bents a tequila martini that’s supposed to enhance your sex drive. From the looks of the hickey she tried to cover up earlier she didn’t need the drink at all. The DJ shouted over the microphone.

  “Where are my single ladies at!” the DJ repeated.

  “Over here!” Luna stood, pointing at us.

  “Luna, sit down.” Sutton laughed and pulled her by the arm.

  Sutton knew the owner of the club and got us a VIP booth to hang out and chill. I had a drink already and was taking my time with the second one.

  “I want to go dance, come on.” Luna gulped down the rest of her drink.

  “How many of those have you had?” I asked, motioning for the bottle girl that was standing near the rope of our entrance to come here.

  “You ladies need something else?” she asked.

  “Can you bring us three bottles of water please?”

  “Sure thing,” she replied, and went back to the bar.

  The base of the music strummed through the walls as Nicki Minaj’s voice came through. It hyped Luna up and she started popping her little butt in the air. Sutton and I shook our heads and laughed at her. Luna was comical more than anything and I could never get mad at her even when we lived together in college. Sutton slapped her on the ass and stood to dance with her.

  “Come on, Kam. You’re not w
orking tonight, so get loose,” Luna called me out.

  I had no choice but to get up and join them on the dance floor. She grabbed my hand and walked us out to the dance floor, and we made our own little area near the DJ booth. I planted my hands on my hips, moved around in a circle, threw one hand in the air, and popped my ass in the air, thanking my momma for giving me my confidence and my shape. I was a nice size, with thick hips, ass, and thighs, and nice, full breasts. But it was tough to find a guy who wanted me for me, and not just my body.

  “Get it, Kam!” Sutton screamed, hyping me up. I was glad to have my hair up in a ponytail and not sweating it out from the sweat dripping down my face. Luna came behind me and worked her hips in the same motion and everybody started calling and cheering us on. I changed it up and turned around to dance face to face and grabbed her hands then twirled her around.

  “Go, Luna! Go! Go!” I cheered her on as a guy came up behind her. He looked familiar, but I was still tipsy from the drink, so I couldn't make him out.

  His hands went around her waist and they looked to be doing more than dancing.

  “Really, Sutton!” a loud, masculine voice yelled.

  I turned and saw Savion Jennings getting in Sutton and some random guy’s face. That only meant one thing, and I was too afraid to move.

  “I see the moves you make on the dance floor. I wonder if they match the moves you make in the bedroom.” His hot, deep, raspy voice spoke into my ear, and he slid his hands around my waist and jerked me back against his chest.

  “D?”

  He bit the nape of my neck, then kissed the sting away.

  “What’s my name?” He trailed kisses near my ear and down to my shoulder as he eased us backwards in the corner out of the view of everyone. I wanted to turn around and curse him out but felt the throbbing in my panties had another idea.

  “Three years,” I mumbled to myself.

  “What’s that?” He pushed me gently against the wall and stood in front, pressing his body against mine.

  “Huh.”

  “What’s three years?”

  I was stuck, again trying to figure out what to say and not let my emotions take over and give in to what I’d been wanting for a while. I lowered my head. “Be strong,” I whispered.