Bought by the Lone Cowboy

by E. Walsh

  Even now, Jonah felt an indescribable rush as he aimed for the hoop, releasing the ball from the corner beyond the three-point line. The ball hit the backboard, circled the rim a few times, then dropped through the net. As soon as it did, Jonah pumped his fists triumphantly.

  He hadn’t always been this good. When he first started playing, he couldn’t dribble the ball for more than ten seconds without losing control of it. Until high school, he couldn’t even consistently make a foul shot. It was only during his second year in high school that all his hard work started to pay off. Something just seemed to click and he went from being a just OK player, to one with true potential.

  He became a starter, then a star. In his final year of high school, he was the team captain and led them to a second-place finish in the East Coast finals, the team’s best finish on record.

  It was mostly because of this accomplishment that he was now playing college ball on a full sports scholarship. If it wasn’t for the scholarship his basketball dreams would have ended after high school. He’d be back home working with his dad, depressed as hell that he’d probably never step on a court to play a real game again.

  His folks had never been financially secure; quite the opposite, in fact. Life had always been a struggle for the family of six. His dad worked as a handy man and his mom was an elementary school teacher. The family had always struggled to make ends meet and all the kids had to pitch in to help pay the bills. He had no idea how many cars he’d washed and how many yards he’d cut over the years, with all of the money earned going into the family fund.

  He considered himself bless to have the opportunity to play college ball and get a good education. He hoped those blessings might continue and take him to the NBA someday.

  Jonah had thought he’d immediately be a star on his college team, but he was wrong. College was a whole new ball game and he was back to square one, back on the bench. His first year he’d only played about fifty minutes in total for the entire season.

  He was frustrated. Still, he told himself he would be patient and wait for an opportunity to show his skills and prove his worth. That opportunity might well come this year, since the team had a new coach, the top players had graduated, and last year’s top rookie got injured over summer break.

  In short, no one was standing in his way. The limelight was his for the taking.

  “Hey, West!” a voice suddenly called from the other side of the court, jolting him out of his reverie.

  Jonah stopped dribbling and turned his head, smiling at the guy who was likely going to be the new team captain, Duncan Brown.

  “You’re late.” Jonah threw the ball at him.

  Duncan caught it. “Nah. You’re just early as usual.”

  “Well, you can never have too much practice,” he said, then furrowed his eyebrows as he looked around. “Where are the others?”

  “Actually, I came to tell you that practice has been cancelled.”

  “What?” Jonah couldn’t hide his disappointment.

  “The new coach is still out of town,” Duncan explained.

  “I see. But can’t we practice once without him?”

  “The guys are busy, too. Parker’s got a new girlfriend. Xavier’s looking for an apartment. Johnson’s car is at the garage. I actually have stuff to do, as well. But hey, cheer up. Someone should be coming to play with you soon.”

  Jonah gave him a wary frown. “Who?”

  Duncan looked toward the door and smiled when a guy Jonah had never seen before walked onto the court, a freshman by the looks of him. He was tall and lean, like Jonah and most of his teammates, but more muscular, like a swimmer. As he walked, his long, brown hair bounced off his shoulders.

  “Steve McDaniel, meet Jonah West.” Duncan introduced them with a hand on each of their shoulders, like a referee instructing boxers before a match. “Jonah, meet Steve McDaniel, our new teammate.”

  “Teammate?” Jonah asked, giving Duncan a frown.

  “Yep,” Duncan said proudly, slapping the new guy on the shoulder. “Steve’s a power forward out of Chicago, star of his high school team.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Steve said, holding out his hand.

  Jonah stared at the hand, but didn’t shake it. He gestured for Duncan to follow and they stepped a few feet away. Jonah said, “I thought tryouts weren’t until next week.”

  “Well, Steve doesn’t have to try out.” Duncan placed an arm around Jonah’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Like I said, he was a star player on his high school team, so he has mad skills. Plus, his dad is Malcolm McDaniel, the famous alumni who just gave a large donation to the school.”

  Jonah frowned. He had no problem with a talented player walking on before try outs, but now that Duncan had added that little detail, he felt disgusted. Having grown up poor, there was nothing he hated more than rich kids who thought they could buy anything, even a spot on the basketball team. Who did this guy think he was?

  “Well, I’ll leave the two of you.” Duncan said, giving him a pat on the back. “See what he's got, will ya?”

  “Welcome to the team.” Duncan plucked the ball from Jonah’s hands and threw it at Steve. He chuckled under his breath as he left.

  For a moment, Jonah and Steve didn’t say anything. They simply stood and looked at each other. Then Steve started dribbling.

  “So, what now?” he asked.

  “Do you even know how to shoot that ball or are you relying on your family name to keep you on the floor?” Jonah asked brashly, unable to suppress his resentment.

  Steve stopped dribbling and frowned. “What’s wrong with you, man?”

  “Oh, nothing’s wrong with me. In fact, I made the team the right way, through hard work and talent.”

  Steve narrowed his dark eyes at Jonah. There was a slight smile on his lips. He bounced the ball to Jonah. “Are you saying I don’t have talent?”

  Jonah caught the ball and cradled it against his hip. “Talent’s the one thing your old man’s money can’t buy.”

  Steve was wearing a warm-up jacket. He unzipped it and shook it off his shoulders. He tossed the jacket aside and crossed his arms over his chest. He said, “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble. I’m just here to play ball. Why don’t we play a little one-on-one? If I win, you’ll cut the bullshit and accept me as your teammate. If I lose, I’ll quit the team.”

  Cocky bastard, Jonah thought. Still, he was never one to back down from a challenge, especially one issued on the court by some rich kid who probably couldn’t hit the backboard. He pushed the ball into Steve’s belly and took a step back. He wiped the soles of his shoes with his hands and assumed a defensive position, his eyes on the ball in Steve’s hand.

  “Bring it.”

  *

  For the next ten minutes, they played, exchanging baskets on one side of the court. It was a simple one-on-one challenge. No referee. No scoreboard. No audience. Yet, it might as well have been a championship do-or-die game, both players serious and intent on winning, giving their all.

  Steve was good, Jonah had to admit. His defense was lacking and sometimes he got impatient—the mark of an inexperienced player—but he had quick legs for his size and a good wrist, converting most of his shots. His favorite move was a floater off a crossover, though he could also shoot from further out. No threes. Still, his outside shooting was remarkable enough for a power forward.

  Show-off.

  So he wasn’t just a pretty face, after all. Not just a rich brat.

  Steve McDaniels was a talented player. And a formidable opponent, maybe one of the toughest Jonah had ever gone up against.

  Even so, he didn’t allow himself to be left behind or outdone by the rookie, using his experience, quick thinking and agility to score one basket after another. With each shot he made, adrenaline buzzed through his veins. It had been a long time since he had been challenged single-handedly and now, he was in the zone, motivated to show his mettle and put the greenhorn in his place. He did his best. B
ut in the end, he fell short.

  At the end of ten minutes, Steve was up by a point. A single point, but in basketball as with any other sport, it made all the difference.

  Steve had won.

  “I guess I’m staying on the team,” Steve said, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm before raising his hand to offer Jonah a high-five. “I’m looking forward to playing great games with you, partner.”

  Jonah frowned. Yes, Steve was skillful, and yes, he had won the game, but that didn’t mean Jonah liked him. In fact, he liked Steve even less now that he had beaten him.

  “Don’t call me by my first name,” he told Steve, walking past him. “We might be teammates, but we’re not friends and we’re definitely not partners.”

  “Oh, come on,” Steve whined. “It’s not like I’m going to steal your spotlight or your court time or something. I just want to play.”

  Jonah wanted to punch the guy. He’d been beaten by a freshman, a rookie who didn’t even love basketball as much as he did. He found himself hating Steve more and more by the second.

  “Come on, man. I just—”

  “Just shut it, will you?” Jonah walked away.

  Damn. Steve McDaniels was annoying. Jonah couldn’t imagine how he’d be able to survive being in the same locker room with him for the next three years, let alone sitting next to him on the bench or playing alongside him on the floor.

  It was going to be a long three years.

  He sighed. Well, at least, he didn’t have to see him outside of practice and games.

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  “Starting tomorrow, we’ll all be living under the same roof,” Coach Zack Henson announced the next day after team practice. “At least, you guys will be.”

  Jonah dropped his towel as he looked at his coach with wide eyes, the sweaty piece of fabric falling between his feet. What on earth was Coach Henson talking about?

  “Mr. McDaniel has kindly purchased the old Sigma Phi Beta fraternity house,” Coach Henson explained. “He thought it would be a great idea for the team to live together, you know, develop a real sense of camaraderie and gel together. The Dean, and I, think it’s an awesome idea.”

  It took Jonah a moment to realize that Mr. McDaniel was Malcolm McDaniel, Steve’s rich dad. When the realization hit, he felt the blood rushing to his brain. That son of a bitch...

  “So, a big thanks to Mr. McDaniel,” Coach Henson continued, spurring a round of applause. “So tonight, we’re moving into The Lair.”

  “The what?” Jonah asked.

  “The Lair,” the coach said with a broad grin.

  “Because we’re the Jackals, stupid,” Nate Parker, the assistant team captain, answered.

  “Right,” Coach Henson confirmed. “Jackals live in lairs.”

  “Do we really have to?” Jonah was unable to keep quiet any longer. “Live together, I mean. Even professional players don’t have to live together.”

  “They do when they go out of town,” Nate said.

  Jonah glared at him. “We’re not out of town.”

  “Well, professional basketball players aren’t bound to a team,” the coach said. “They can always switch to another. They just have to sign a new contract, move to a new city, and put on a different jersey. But we’re not like that. We’re all stuck with each other. We’re a real team.” He looked directly at Jonah. “Whether you like it or not.”

  “Plus we fight for honor, for school pride, not for money,” Duncan added. “We have a single goal, so we have to be united.”

  Jonah frowned. Not Duncan, too.

  “Nate and Duncan are both right,” Coach Henson said. “Look at the pros, the so-called superstars. They fight left and right, on and off the court. We shouldn’t try to be like them. I mean, we should aspire to be as skillful, but we shouldn’t behave the same way, right?”

  Every player except Jonah nodded.

  “Anyway, you’re all moving into The Lair and that’s final,” the coach said, rubbing his hands together. Again, he looked directly at Jonah. “Unless you don’t want to be a Jackal anymore.”

  Jonah looked away, registering the threat. Obviously Steve’s dad’s money trumped his skill and ability. He’d either fall in line or be off the team. He could barely contain his anger.

  “Chill, guys.” Steve stood up. “I’m sure you’ll love the place. Coach said it’s old, but by that, he meant ‘former’. The building’s fairly new, actually.”

  “Why didn’t Sigma want it anymore?” Dennis Xavier, one of the juniors, asked.

  “Because they got too many new members and the house was too small for them,” Steve answered. “But I think it’s just the perfect size for us. There’ll be two, three at most, in a room and some rooms even have their own showers.”

  “Cool,” Eli Jones, who was sitting next to Jonah, said.

  “Does it have a hot tub?” Ben asked.

  “No,” said Steve. “But it’s got a pool, a gym, and a snack bar.”

  “Yes!” Ben threw his fist in the air.

  “No gaming room?” Garth Lawrence, center for The Jackals, asked, disappointed.

  Steve shook his head. “Sorry, Garth.”

  “You’re supposed to get plenty of sleep,” Coach Henson reminded. “You might be staying at a former Greek house, but you’re athletes. Don’t you forget. No staying up late and no drinking.”

  “And no girls,” Duncan added.

  “What?” A few players protested.

  That Jonah didn’t have a problem with. He hadn’t dated in years. Not that the girls weren’t interested in him. A sports jersey always attracted girls like bees to honey. It was he who wasn’t interested. How would he be when all the girls who were after him were self-centered and only liked him because he was popular? They would only demand attention and get in his way.

  “Does it have a flat screen TV at least?” Garth asked. “You know, for watching the NBA.”

  “And porn,” Ben joked.

  “Oh, shut up,” Nate scolded.

  Those two always ended up arguing, though they were best friends.

  “There’s a TV,” Steve answered. “60 incher.”

  Someone whistled.

  Steve grinned. “Like I said, I’m sure you guys are gonna love the place.”

  *

  Jonah wasn’t so sure. The Lair was great, yes, especially compared to his old dorm. The rooms more spacious and better furnished. It had even been decorated just for them.

  Pictures of current and previous Jackals hung on the walls, as well as the team’s banners and posters of NBA legends. There was a wood-carved jackal in the living room, too, and a basketball signed by Michael Jordan inside a glass case.

  There was no mistaking it for a fraternity house now. Plus, the place was closer to the basketball court. Still, Jonah couldn’t bring himself to believe that this change of residence was for the best.

  “Need help with those bags?” Steve asked, standing at the top of the stairs.

  That guy was probably the main reason.

  “What do you think I am? A lady?” Jonah went up the stairs and past him.

  “Trust me. If you were a lady, I would be much nicer.”

  “Yeah. If I were a lady, you’d be having a nice time inside my panties.”

  “Chicks dig me. I don’t dig them.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Man, you need to get laid. You’re so stiff.”

  “You know what? Just because your rich daddy can tell me where I’m supposed to live doesn’t mean you can tell me how I’m supposed to live my life.”

  “See what I mean? I was only giving a suggestion.”

  “Rich people don’t give suggestions.” Jonah paused at the end of the hall, none of the doors he had passed having his name on them. Where was his room supposed to be?

  “Ah. You might want to go here.” Steve pointed to the opposite hall.

  Jonah slowly turned around.

  “Oh, by th
e way, that’s not a suggestion.”

  Jonah walked in the opposite direction, frowning.

  Unbelievable? Didn’t Steve know where to stop? How much more did he have to endure from this rich asshole?

  He stopped at the end of the other hall, his name on the door right next to Steve’s.

  Holy shit.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jonah whirled. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “What are you talking about? It’s only normal for a new player to rely on one of the older ones to show him the ropes.”

  “Don’t give me that look,” Jonah told him, angry now. “You’re anything but innocent, and there’s no way in hell I’m bunking with you.”

  “Don’t worry. I promise not to touch you.”

  “Very funny.”

  Jonah started walking down the hall.

  “Where are you going?” Steve asked him.

  “To see if there’s anywhere else I can stay.”

  “Nope. All the other rooms are taken.”

  “Then I’ll sleep in the living room.”

  “I’m afraid the couch isn’t that comfy. Do you really want to get a bad back?”

  Jonah stopped, sighing. It seemed like he was cornered. Again.

  “Fine. I’ll share a room with you.” He headed back towards the end of the hall. “But you better not set foot in my half of the room.”

  “We can even draw a line if you want.” Steve followed him. “We’ll have to share the bathroom, though.”

  Jonah glared at him.

  “I mean, we’ll take turns,” Steve said. “Though of course, if you want to take a shower with me, I—”

  “You never shut up, do you?”

  Jonah entered the room, setting his bags down on the floor as he sat on the edge of his bed, which was opposite Steve’s.

  Great. Just great. Of all the guys on the team, he was stuck with the spoiled brat.

  He could only hope Steve didn’t snore.

  * * *

  Chapter Three

  Thankfully, Steve didn’t snore. He wasn’t messy, either, or noisy. He always used his headphones when he played music and took his calls outside. Apart from asking for some toothpaste once, he never asked Jonah for anything or borrowed any of his things like most roommates did. In fact, for someone annoying, he didn’t seem to have any bad roommate habits.