Pass Interference (Connecticut Kings Book 6)

by Christina C Jones

  “Wow. Biology?”

  “Yep,” she grinned. “Everybody says your major doesn’t really matter for medical school, as long as you have the grades to get in. But I just think it makes the most sense. I want to complete as much of my general coursework as I can before I even get to college, that way I can jump right into my courses for my major.”

  “That sounds like a very solid plan – especially at sixteen. You already know where you’re going?”

  She sighed. “I did, but then…”

  “Then what?”

  “It’s stupid.”

  I knew better than to press this issue, especially with a teenager, especially with a teenaged girl, but this was the second time she’d dismissed something as “stupid”. Usually, it wouldn’t have even registered to me, but because this directly involved her college plans…

  Shit.

  My conscience wouldn’t allow me to just let it ride.

  “What school was it?” I asked, trying to ease into it.

  “BSU. Blakewood,” she clarified, unnecessarily.

  “That’s my alma mater. Blakewood is a great school, with a great pre-med program, medical school, University Hospital, all of that. Why would you have second thoughts about them?”

  She tipped her head back, staring up at the ceiling for a bit. “Because… by the time I get there, Langston will be there too.”

  My eyebrow lifted. “And Langston is…?”

  “My ex-boyfriend.”

  Ah, hell.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I asked, before I could catch myself. “You’re going to make a major decision based around some knuckle-head ass little boy?”

  Any ground I’d gained with her disappeared as her face settled into a scowl. “Of course you don’t understand. You’re… old.”

  The fuck??

  She adjusted the laptop more towards herself, effectively dismissing me as she tapped away with renewed vigor – or maybe anger. Instead of saying anything, I slipped my cell phone out of my pocket and typed out a message to the one person who could probably help me.

  “Hey… what do I say to a sixteen-year-old girl thinking about passing up BSU because her ex-boyfriend is going to be there?”

  “Nigga… where are you, first of all. – OKC”

  “Cole, focus. Time crunch.”

  “I’m just making sure you aren’t on any Pied Piper shit. I mean I don’t think you would be, but these days you gotta ask straight up. – OKC”

  “IT’S MY FRIEND’S DAUGHTER.”

  “I SAID I WAS JUST MAKING SURE. – OKC”

  I stifled a groan over Cole’s derailment of the conversation, and was getting ready to let her know when another text came through.”

  “Tell her… I dunno. Books before boys. Degrees before her little fee-fees. Catch footballs, not feelings? Nooo, catch frat, not feelings! – OKC”

  “Can you be serious?”

  “Fiiiine. Remind her that no man – or boy, or whatever – is worth sacrificing her best chances for her future. Are there other schools? Sure. But she doesn’t want to be thirty years old wondering if she made a mistake based on a boy that she – trust me – is not even going to be thinking about in two years. Especially once she gets to the BSU campus. Fine ass higher educated buffet of boys… that she shouldn’t be concerned with. Book before boys. – OKC”

  I let out a quiet chuckle over the content of Cole’s text, then looked up to find Madison glaring at me, probably because I was making noise.

  “Hey,” I told her, attempting to break the ice. “My bad for responding the way I did. I probably could’ve been more tactful, but… the sentiment remains, Madison. I know your feelings are probably still hurt over this Langston dude, but we’re talking about your future here.” Her glare melted a bit, and that warmth gave me a little more confidence to just say what was on my mind. “You’ll probably start applying for pre-acceptance around what… October? By then you won’t even be thinking about him, you’ll be on to new booty!”

  Her eyes went wide, and she shook her head. “I… there’s no booty. I’m a virgin!”

  What the fuck did I just walk into??

  “My bad,” I insisted, shaking my head. “I’m… used to talking this motivational stuff to pro football players, which you are not, because you’re sixteen. You’re right – there’s no booty and shouldn’t be any booty… I think? Good job?”

  “Can we stop talking about booty?”

  I answered her with a vigorous nod. “Please.”

  The amused giggle she let out made my shoulders sink with relief as she turned the computer back so that I could see it too. “You don’t have to tell me any of this anyway. I led with the fact that it was stupid, didn’t I?”

  My gaze followed where she pointed, to see that she’d listed BSU as her first choice. I nodded lifting my fist to bump hers as a grin spread over her face.

  “Hey – since we’re cool now,” I started, as she moved on to answer the next question. “You want to tell me why you waited last minute on this application?”

  She glanced up, nose wrinkled, but didn’t say anything.

  “Ah, hell. Because of him?”

  “I said it was stupid!” she defended herself. “But with this, we’re not talking about two years from now – we’re talking about seeing him on campus with his girlfriend next month. I don’t know if I’m ready to handle that, but Isabella got her acceptance email today, so I… I don’t know. I wasn’t going to do it, but I can’t let him derail me.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Exactly that. You know what, show me this dude.”

  She looked surprised by my question, but pulled out her cell phone, navigating to the Instagram page of some little wack ass little boy. I took the phone from her.

  “Come on, Madison – him? What is this hairline? Why is his head shaped like this? And this little mustache… did he fill it with eyeliner or something?”

  “I told him that was a bad idea,” Madison sighed. For a few seconds, neither of us said anything, and then we both busted out laughing. “He was really nice,” Madison defended herself, because that Instagram feed was indefensible.

  “Looking like that, he had to be.”

  We shared a few more laughs at Langston’s expense, then went back to her application, breezing through the essay questions and finishing it in much less time than expected. She’d just hit submit when her phone rang, and I gathered from her side of the conversation that it was the friend she’d mentioned earlier, Isabella. They went back and forth for a few minutes, excitedly giggling about the finished application before Madison hung up.

  “Thank you,” she told me, wearing a big smile as she held up her fist to tap mine again. “I’m going to Isabella’s. I’ll text my mom. Bye!”

  If I was babysitting, I would’ve gotten fired, because she was gone before I could even register that she’d told me where she was going, instead of asking. And how the hell did I know if she was going to text her mother?!

  “Don’t panic,” I heard from behind me, and turned to see Sloane standing in the other exit to the kitchen, partially hidden by the fridge. It was only because she’d said something that I even knew she was there. “Her permission to go to Isabella’s is constant. During the summer, she doesn’t have to ask.”

  My shoulders relaxed. “How did you know what I was thinking, and what are you doing out of the bath?”

  “I could see the anxiety in your body language, and I’ve been out of the bath since I overheard you offering to help my teenage daughter. Not that I don’t trust you, but… she’s my daughter. I had to make sure everything was on the up and up.”

  I nodded. “I understand that. So… did I pass?”

  “With flying colors,” she purred, finally approaching and pressing her body to mine. She’d at least undressed for the bath, and I could clearly feel that there was nothing underneath the robe she wore now. “It was pretty sexy, actually. And funny. You were trying so hard.”

  “Wel
l,” I groaned, as her hands slipped into the waist of my shorts and boxers. “Just for transparency, I did reach out to Cole for a little help.”

  She squeezed me. “Mmm – a man who isn’t afraid to ask for assistance when he needs it. I’m a fan.”

  “How much of a fan?” I asked her, dropping my hands to grip her ass, pulling her closer.

  She drew away from me, wearing a sexy smirk as she unbelted her robe.

  “Come upstairs and find out.”

  Twelve

  “I. Am. Exhausted.”

  I pushed out a deep sigh, then accepted the margarita Joan was holding out. The time that I’d be able to enjoy my little backyard oasis was winding down, so with my drink in hand, I sank into the cushions of my chaise, closing my eyes.

  “But you’re an exhausted winner,” Zora hummed, and I opened my eyes to find her accepting a drink too before Joan took a seat with her own margarita. “So, cheers to you.”

  I grinned, and joined them in raising my glass to toast Thursday’s win – the first game of the official season. I’d been occupied with the season kick-off barbecue on Saturday, which had been even more of an event since the Kings won. That meant my much-needed get together with my homegirls had been pushed to Sunday, which was fine, as long as it happened.

  It had been way too long.

  Joan had always been the best mixologist in our little group, so my taste buds were excited about her fresh pineapple margarita. I raised the glass to my lips, nearly bouncing in my seat over the vibrant flavors until I quickly realized…

  “Wait… bitch is this a damn virgin margarita?!”

  Zora and Joan burst out laughing, and Joan nodded. “Uh, yeah. You had a shot with us when Zora first got here, so you’re at your limit. You can’t drink yourself into a heart attack around me sweetie – I can’t keep your ass alive!”

  “We’ll just call Nate – I’m sure he’s close by, since we can’t ever get ahold of this bitch cause she’s laid up somewhere with her young tender.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Wow, this is the first time all three of us make it to get together in like a year, and this is how you’re going to do me?”

  “Sure is,” Joan laughed. “It took you four months to tell us about your lil heart attack, and three months to tell us about your lil man, so yeah… you’re going to have to just take these jokes, ma’am.”

  “But you knew about Nate!”

  “Not that you were catching feelings for him!” Zora argued. “For the last…however long you’d been fucking him, I admired the masterful way you kept him at a distance and kept everybody from finding your business out—”

  “That wasn’t that hard, when nobody would’ve expected it anyway, and it’s not like we were around each other all the time. I was at BSU months at a time, coaching, while he was up here!”

  Joan smirked. “Yeah, and he had his ass at every alumni event to uh… make donations.”

  “He was… Very passionate about his alma mater,” I argued, barely able to keep a straight face as I did.

  “What he was passionate about was Coach Brooks.” Zora shook her head. “And to think, your ass wasn’t even going to “go there” with him. You ought to thank me, honestly.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thank you, Zoraya Whitfield, for encouraging me to corrupt that young man. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.”

  “Literally,” Joan chimed. “Since he saved your ass.”

  Zora gasped. “That’s right, isn’t it?! Girl you owe me,” she teased, sipping her – definitely not virgin – margarita. “You want to know something though… I think I’m more offended by you not telling us you were getting serious with him than I am about the heart attack. The heart attack, I get. I mean… you see what I did when you did tell me.”

  “Hopped your ass right on the family jet,” I answered, nodding.

  She was right – I had known exactly what she was going to do, which is why I’d kept it to myself. I loved my friends, and didn’t want to keep anything from them – especially when these were two women I trusted with my life. Still though, after not telling them immediately afterward, it never felt like the right time. I didn’t want them uprooting their lives to help manage mine, which I knew they would do because I’d do the same. Somehow, it became much easier to just not tell them.

  So I hadn’t.

  Until it occurred to me that I couldn’t keep counting on Nate to bear the burden of knowing alone.

  He said it was no load for him, and I believed that, but that didn’t make it fair. He used so much energy checking on and caring for me because he knew he was the only one doing so, as it related to my health. And not just that – he worried for me, because keeping secrets took a toll. Once I told Madison, it was a such a relief that I knew I wouldn’t be holding on to it much longer.

  After my daughter, the obvious choice of who to tell next was my friends. If this had happened to either of them, I would want to know. And they had wanted to know. It had been a conversation of tears and cursing me out, as I unloaded that burden the night before the Kings first game.

  In the process, I kinda had to tell them about Nate too.

  Which, as Zora said, they’d found more offensive.

  Joan shook her head. “I still can’t believe your ass was out here with a whole boyfriend and hadn’t said nothing. Taking advantage of the fact that Miles trapped me with those two youngest kids I’ve had to entertain all summer!”

  “While I’m over in Vegas clueless,” Zora chimed in. “This man done saved your heart, made sure it was healed, then took it. Wow. A real man.”

  I laughed at her delivery, but couldn’t deny it, and I couldn’t deny their accusations either. I had taken advantage of their busyness and proximity, choosing to stay in my stressful little bubble. And now that I was out, I just felt… lighter.

  “Guys, I… I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  Joan lifted an eyebrow. “With regard to…?”

  “Nate. I mean… our role in each other’s lives was clear, and we were firm in what we wanted – we knew that beyond our little affair, we didn’t mesh. But then it all just changed, and it is confusing, and scary, and… wonderful. And I don’t even know what that is.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re in love,” Zora answered, shrugging. “You’re not surprised, are you?”

  I bit down on my lip. “Yes and no?”

  “Because of the age thing?” Joan asked, and I shook my head.

  “Nah. I mean, it was a sticking point when we were just sleeping together, and my mind would wander. Everybody’s gonna call me a cougar, and blah, blah, blah. But now that we’re… whatever we are… I don’t even think about it now. I don’t feel like I’m a forty-three-year-old with a thirty-year-old, I just feel like… a woman with a man. He just makes me feel like that.”

  Zora leaned in. “So then what?”

  “I just… didn’t expect it. He was talking about not even wanting to be tied down, which was fine by me, because I wasn’t looking for that from him. Now am I really sitting here falling in love with him? I mean, I know people can change their minds, they grow, and evolve, but… I was married to a man who didn’t really want to be tied down. Garrett talked a great game about being together forever, and me being the only woman he wanted, and I believed him, because I loved him. Trusted him because I loved him.”

  “But Nate isn’t Garrett. You can’t hold another man’s mistakes against him,” Joan urged.

  Zora shook her head. “She shouldn’t ignore her experience either though. We see it all the time, right? Woman gets screwed over by a “good man”, then gets called bitter or indecisive or whatever when the next “good” one comes along, as if they don’t all look the same until they show their true nature.” She pointed to the scar that ran up the side of her face to prove her point. “Done to me by what looked like, to me and everybody else, a “good” man. I’m not saying I think Nate is like that, or even that I think he’s just pretending
to be good. I am saying that there isn’t a damn thing wrong with you questioning whether this is what you want, and not rushing to figure it out.”

  “So it’s fair for her to hold this man who has been at her side since her heart attack, been nothing but kind, and caring, and supportive at arm’s length while she waffles over what she wants?” Joan countered.

  “Is it fair that women are expected to be goddamn clairvoyants when it comes to these manipulative, gaslighting ass men?” Zora shot back, her face pulled into a scowl. “If she dives in headfirst and he fucks her over, guess who gets the blame? Her. She should’ve known better. If she takes her time figuring out “what he is to her” and where they stand and what their future might be, all the shit we’re not supposed to ask them, and he decides not to wait anymore, who gets the blame? Her. Shouldn’t have taken so long. She’s damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t, so might as well work at her pace. If it’s meant to be it’s going to be, one way or another, but I’m damn sure not going to expect the woman who got screwed over by a man she was married to for seventeen years to not be a little skittish about giving another man her heart.”

  Joan held up her hands. “Whoa, it seems like you are taking this really personal.”

  “Because I am,” Zora admitted, sipping from her drink before she laughed. “I’m just saying – I get where Sloane is coming from. Just because it walks, talks, and even acts like a good man doesn’t mean he is. And when you’ve been burned before, it’s scary trying to figure out the difference. Take your time,” she said to me, with a nod. “If Nate is who he’s portraying, he’s not going anywhere, and he’ll give you space to figure it out.”

  “Thank you,” I nodded. “Both of you. I don’t want to make him wait, but I also don’t want to go all in, only to have him change his mind again, and decide he doesn’t want to be with one woman. Or maybe he does, and that woman just… isn’t me. Like I said, it’s scary, but… I do trust him. I mean, I couldn’t even tell you the last time we used protection, even before this shift happened, so…”

  “Yeah, that’s trust for that ass,” Zora laughed. “But I knew that boy didn’t want any pussy but yours when you told me he flew to goddamn Texas just to meet you in a hotel during a long layover.”